It's a cold summer day in San Francisco. The sky's gray, and there's quite a breeze blowing, at least up here on the fourth floor. It might be more pleasant on the street, but not likely.

I knew it was coming. We can only have three or four days of good weather here, then a hard wind comes blowing one evening, and you wake up the next morning and it's like winter. I'm sure everywhere else in the bay area it's roaring hot. There was another brush fire in Palo Alto yesterday. You wouldn't know that from my window.

I have some super yummy tamales my sister brought up from Los Angeles. They're in the microwave as I'm writing this. She and her husband stopped by for a couple of hours while they started their trip to Idaho for a couple of weeks. It's their dream spot - far away from the insane crowds they live among. They were even more shocked at my neighborhood. I live a block away from the Valencia corridor, and there are dozens of restaurants up and down the street. They were shocked at the sheer number of people walking up and down the street. Combine that with the difficulty in finding a parking spot, and they couldn't understand why I would ever want to live there.

It's hard to believe we came from the same mother, since we're so different. I guess twelve years difference can do that to you. She and her husband are quite conservative, Bush supporters. I couldn't be further away from that. They can't wait to get away from urban america, I completely embrace its madness.

Speaking of that madness, I was saddened to here that a dealer friend of mine was shot to death near his home the other night. I had known him for about four years now. I have no doubt it was business related, but I never saw it coming, he seemed a rather decent fellow.

I would guess he didn't see it coming, either. I went to his memorial service last Friday, and the place was packed. I could see his young son and wife staring at the casket in sadness. It was strange seeing him in that casket, when almost exactly a week before I was standing next to him. His broad shoulders looked hunched in that casket. He looked uncomfortable.

Not that it matters, but I'd like a casket that fits me when I go.

music:

night life:

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