San Francisco, the city, was so incredible I can’t even talk about it. It was my first time there. From the lovely walkableness of the city (what can I say—I loved the hills) to the freedom of expression to the gorgeous weather we were blessed with that day to our super-cool host in the Castro who prepared us the best breakfast we had on the entire four-night trip, it was sublime. Of course, in our limited six-hour window we didn’t get a chance to do much more than walk around. And eat. And drink. But it was enough to know we will
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Well, we didn’t get "The Other Shoe," but we did get the Cramps’ "New Kind of Kick." That day we woke up in Costa Mesa, ready to make our way north for the last of the driving portion of the trip. So far I was pleased with our luck in travel. Discounting our late takeoff out of Denver and the overwhelming desire to squash the smarmy Thrifty car rental agent like a bug in San Diego, getting from place to place has been refreshingly without incident. True, we did manage to blow a red light, skip paying a toll completely,
Folks, I'm in San Francisco for the first time in my life and I'm leaving in less than 24 hours. I'll try to get yesterday's diary posted by show time tonight, but if I don't, I know you'll understand.
There was a proposal. But more on that later. First things first. Since this is about me—I mean us—I will take a moment to tell you about our day in La Jolla. It’s January, but the weather was glorious. I woke up before 7 AM, still on Central time and thinking I needed to get the kids to school. Tried to go back to sleep, but I was up for keeps. So I took to the cove. The previous night’s beer kept my head from consenting to the jostle of a run, but I walked, briskly, in shorts and a
Did we even know how to do this anymore? Yes. Yes we did. Well, pretty much. When the show got out at 11, 18 hours after I'd woken my kids up for school that morning, I was at first shocked, then relieved, then downright ecstatic to know I'd be getting home so early. I suppose I should be embarrassed by that. I'm not. The first time I bought tickets to see the Old 97s was for a show at the Paradise in Boston. But the first time I saw them was at Irving Plaza in New York City. So impatient was I