Well Met By Sunlight

[The music: "San Diego Zoo" by The 6ths (feat. Barbara Merrill), a perfect, perky-seeming tune with the barbed tail Stephin Merritt includes, concealed or not, in all of his songs.]

[It's been as sunny and warm as San Diego all weekend, and at several points of my walk about town with Matt and Steven, I did the thing where I throw my arms out in a sort of anti-crucifixion gesture and thank Apollo for the UV. San Francisco is at its best on such days, and Steven, at least, got that faraway look that means the city has claimed another acolyte. We walked by the Buena Vista Cafe at one point, but I fought the impulse to buy him a couple of Irish coffees and then make him call his mother (or academic advisor at Michigan State) to say he just wasn't coming home.]

[Matt and Steven are friends, Ph.D. candidates in the Rhetoric program at East Lansing, and they did a great job explaining to this poor intellect some of what they're up to. They're going to be ace educators one day; actually, from Steven's description of the class he's already teaching, I'd change the "going to be" to "is." Matt is the charming huzzzband of John H., who is probably reading this wondering when I'm going to mention they're celebrating their fifth anniversary. All that means to me me me is that I've been waiting over five years to meet Matt, and now I have.]

[The route? Union Square to Market Street, F Market/Wharves streetcar to Pier 39 for a contemplative glance at the sea lions; Fisherman's Wharf branch of In n' Out Burger (at John H.'s long-distance insistence); walk to the Marina District and catch the 43-Masonic bus for a ride thru the Presidio and down to the Haight; Amoeba Records, Giant Robot, the new clothing shop that replaced the Gap at Haight & Ashbury, and Booksmith; 33-Ashbury bus over Twin Peaks, thence to the Castro for cocktails on 18th Street followed by dinner at Anchor Oyster Bar. They take the Underground back downtown and I totter back over the hill and then to bed.]

[I've done variations of this tour with out-of-towners too numerous to count and too far back in time to remember, so why do I keep doing it? Well, there's a lot to criticize about San Francisco, and seeing it for the first time thru someone else's eyes, and watching someone like Steven get that faraway look, always make me fall in love a little again. It rarely fails, and certainly did not fail yesterday.]

["In every golden age, there's always someone who complains how yellow everything looks." Compared to so many eras of human history, we are in a golden one. Yes, really. Think of that as you crack a few eggs and separate a few auric yolks on Bunny Day.]

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