So, I have to tell you, I was sick sick sick after I got back from the Springsteen concerts. I guess, having been exposed to about 45,000 people, danced and yelled and jumped up and down, and stood for 8 hours on each of 3 consecutive nights, it was hardly surprising And I really wasn't that sick, just tired and stuffed up and achey and feeling sorry for myself. You know, it is never nice being sick - one really feels out of control - but it is particularly not nice being sick alone!
Anyway, that too has passed, as those things tend to do, and life proceeded along. I passed on the gym for a week, but did continue to play bridge. (say congratulations, ladies and gentlemen. I am now in possession of 1, almost two, master points - another 498 more and I will be a Life Master!)
And, of course, one doesn't stop eating, but when you're sick, the tried and true is better than the new and exotic, so we went to Billy Reed's, an old Palm Springs (and Jackson) favorite, with the tried and true - neighbor Michael and friends Art and Wally. Billy Reed's is basically an upscale diner, but, you know, I love American comfort food - liver and onions, macaroni and cheese, meat loaf, fried chicken, chicken pot pie, pork chops, etc., and noone does it better than Billy Reed! And for a very modest price, they supply enough for dinner for two nights. It is not even a matter of discipline - there is no way that even I could finish their portions!
Then, it was a matter of saying my goodbyes, getting the house ready for friends Kim, and, later, Donna and Pelham, to stay in May, and off to San Francisco.
And then, there was the US Air fiasco. It was a cheap ticket, all right, but it required flying from Palm Springs to Phoenix, then changing planes in Phoenix for the hop to San Francisco. Well, there were thunderstorms in Phoenix, the plane was late leaving there for Palm Springs, therefore the Palm Springs flight was going to be late getting in to Phoenix, and therefore I would miss the last plane out to San Francisco.
In US Air's defence, they were quite willing to rebook me the next day, but you know, once you have psyched yourself up to leave (and I had), you don't really want to go back. So, I did something I have never done before. I had heard on the intercom that the Alaska Airlines flight to San Francisco had been delayed, so I marched over to their counter, handed over my passport and a credit card, and got on the flight that was bording as my pass was being printed. So, cheap was not so cheap, but it felt really really really good to do that (extravigant as it was), and I was on my way!
In truth, considering how much I travel, these things don't happen to me all that often, and I try to remember that instead of getting really really really annoyed! And it was just another reason not ever to check luggage ( I certainly wouldn't have been able to do that switcheroo if I had).
Anyway, I arrived in San Francisco earlier than I would have otherwise, and once again felt that self-satisfied (alright, gloating), sophisticated feeling of being in one of the (now many) airports where I know exactly where to do to get to the rapid transit, had my Bart ticket in hand, and was on my way before the rest of the passengers had picked up their luggage! Hank and I arrived at the arranged pick-up spot within seconds, and within minutes we were at his place with drinks and snacks in hand!
That was Wednesday. Thursday, Hank was off to work, and I connected - by telephone at least - with lots of Bay Area friends. Jim Jackson, my husband David's brother, met me at the Embarcadero for lunch at Boutin's, an old San Francisco favorite. (The original is at Fisherman's Wharf; I always have the clam chowder in a bowl of sourdough bread!)
We wandered around the market in the rennovated Ferry Building; for those of you who haven't been to San Francisco for a while, I highly recommend it. Great shops, great food, great location, great views, and the weather was glorious, 75 degrees (by the by, it was 104 when I left Palm Springs), sunny with a slight breeze, perfect San Francisco tourist weather.
The unmistakable Golden Gate Bridge and Sausalito ferry (hence the ferry building!), which is always a bitter sweet thing for me. When I was living on a sailboat, and, later, when David and I had an apartment in Sausalito before me went off cruising, this was our commute; we walked to the ferry, got a paper and a danish and coffee on the ferry, and, when we got to the (pre-rennovation) ferry building, we would take the cable car up the hill to the Bank of America where we worked. And, really, David is everywhere in this city for me; by this time, though, it is less of an active hurt and more a comfort, and a reliving of good times.
Anyway, here's Jim, David's brother....
Unlike yours truly...
...who can't blame her bad memory on old age because it was always bad!
Anyway, I left Jim at the BART (again, for the uninitiated, it stands for Bay Area Rapid Transit), and continued on my paen to the past. It included, the "street art" that is everywhere...
....and particularly the one known as the Banker's Heart, in front of our old haunt, the Bank of America building...
and the good old Pacific Stock Exchange...
I will spare you yet another picture of Hank and Nora eating, but will tell you that we had a lovely dinner downtown at the Zuni Cafe, a San Francisco tradition - it has been there for 30 years - and its reputation is well deserved. Of particular note is their caesar salad (where you can actually taste - and see - the anchovies), their roast chicken, their hamburgers, their squab - oh, just about anything!
Well, today I am off to more adventures, and tomorrow, off to France. Since I am once again traveling, friend Peter and Camera in hand, I will be posting more often - if I don't, the pictures get out of hand. So, stay posted, and if you want to email me, please do. I love hearing from you, and to remain connected to my far flung friends.
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