No Direction Home

As much as I am loving the commonwealth* of Kentucky and the people who live here, I think that coming back to California will always feel like coming home.

I returned from my round-the-state California (+ a piece of Denver) trip this past weekend.  Whirlwind.  But in a good way.

First stop: San Francisco

My first day in San Francisco I went “swimming” (one stroke normal arm, one pathetic lame-armed follow up…but I try) at my old stomping grounds and decided to walk up to Lower Haight to meet a friend for a drink.  On my walk up Market I passed this:

The line stretched around the corner of 5th.  I was late to my drink date because I stood there for about 15 minutes debating whether or not I should ditch the beer and instead try to befriend a person near the front of the line and try to get in (tickets weren’t sold out yet.)  But, a bird in the hand is better than two in the bush…the beer won out.

Next on the list was the hike up to the top of Telegraph Hill with my parents where, to no one’s surprise, my father bared his guns.

See the resemblance to the shirtless guy on the building?

The views from Telegraph, good Indian food by UCSF, the dive bars, the angsty hipsters, the beer at Toronado, Nopalito, the man in a pink polka dot dress walking through the Financial District with a big bow in his nasty hair carrying a huge teddy bear…Walter Cronkite said it best:

“Leaving San Francisco is like saying goodbye to an old sweetheart. You want to linger as long as possible. “

Next stop: Creston, CA

*thanks colleague

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