One Night Out, Six Nights In

Something I did this week and should be doing more often was a dinner with old friends. One is a journalist living in Italy, the rest all live here in the City -- two lawyers, one retired, a retired teacher, a graphic designer, a stand-up comedian and a former anti-war hero, and a political activist in Colorado and Pennsylvania, who once ran for Mayor of Philadelphia and won a majority some neighborhoods.

Smart, engaged people in their 60s and 70s. I know most of them for nearly 40 years -- most of our adult lives. I knew none of them before moving to San Francisco.

This is a special place, even as it undergoes change that causes many long-time residents, including my friends, to complain about recent changes. The tech revolution is tranforming this place in ways that are uncomfortable to many of us.

I thought of that today as I went out to pick up my lunch. It was a glorious, sunny day -- no need for a jacket. The receptionist at KQED's front desk, a wonderful African-American woman named Ernestine who I've known for 20 years, smiled and said: "Good, you're goin' for a walk."

At the Food Truck, I waited in line for an Indian dish called Chicken Rice. Every other person at the truck was young and from over-hearing their conversations, obviously newcomers to the Bay Area. Many had accents -- Israeli, French, Korean.

How aware are they at this early stage of their careers, earning good money for the most part, that they are blamed for displacing artists, writers, seniors, poor people, "illegal" (what a terrible word) immigrants?

Not so aware, I'd bet. They are at the stage I was 43+ years ago when I arrived. This place is mesmerizing if you grew up in a place like the Midwest, or almost anywhere in the world but here, except (ever so slightly) Perth, Australia or Beirut. Even then, the comparison is only with the air and light (Perth) and the hills and waterfront (Beirut).

Oh and then there is Old Geneva.

I'll try to return to this theme in coming posts.

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3,000?

i do not know whether this blog will make it throught the 300+ posts to make it to that total. It is proving to be increasingly difficult for me to do this work, plus I doubt anyone notices or cares.

Fact is things still happen. At a slightly younger age I had the energy to tell the story. Now I just have to endure the reality.

This morning my youngest and I walked the 2 1/2 blocks to where my car was parked, at 8:15. She had to be at school by 8:45.

My ancient car (2004 Saturn Ion) would not start, thanks to GM, and my inability to get the recall parts installed to date.

Fifteen minutes later it finally started, just after Christine from USAA road service, finally connected through my cellphone. Julia, meanwhile, could not raise a cab via 333-3333 (Yellow Cab).

Long story short I got her to school ten minutes late, with a hand-signed note. No damage done. Funny thing is, unlike most days and nights, she talked to me throughout this process. I felt like we connected.

That was what made today feel special.

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Weekly Report

Met with my accountant this week to start the process of filing taxes. Amended the financial aid forms for the boys to make sure they have the option of returning to California next school year should they choose.

Drove my youngest daughter here and there all week. She's been accepted into the boarding school in Napa that she wants to attend next fall -- that will depend on some major financial aid.

A work, I am the guinea pig testing a new type of scheduling software. It always makes me feel dumb to test software -- I don't take to it easily. You must have to have  amuch more logical brain than mine to be good at these things.

I woke up this morning and decided to take my core team (4 people) to lunch. It's birthday time for two of them (aged 32 and 31) so we walked to a local hipster joint most of us had never visited.

A nice break.

Now the weekend. Gotta help my youngest son find an affordable ticket home from Missoula for spring break. Will take my daughter not once but twice to the SPCA tomorrow. A friend will drop by for tea. Julia plays futsol on Sunday.

Grandson James pitched for the first time today in Little League in San Jose. Photo above.

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Fruits, Vegetables and Jasmine

My daughter Sarah and I talked about how to introduce our kids to more vegetables (and fruits) on Saturday, and that conversation inspired me to go out shopping on Sunday, when I bought onions, orange bell peppers, garlic, zucchini, cucumber, baby carrots, key limes, mandarin tangerines, brown mushrooms, basil, apples, grapes and peaches.

I love filling my refrigerator with these items, because I like eating them and I love serving them to my kid(s). These days, that would mean my one remaining kid at home, 16-year-old Julia.

On the way to work yesterday, I shot this photo of a flowering jasmine plant. The kind that smells, especially after dark on a warm night.

My neighbors removed all of the jasmine from our mutual fence in my front yard last year, it seemed like it was gone forever. But this weekend, I noticed that one little strand of jasmine has returned, on my side of our fence. A little strand, making a statement.

I love that! May it grow up to look like the plant in this photo.

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Saturday With Three of My Grandkids and Two of my Daughters

Monday's Sunshine

Weekend Diary

Got up yesterday morning and drove Julia to the place where she gets her hair cut. It was really more of a trim and it cost $25. Since she got her hair dyed recently, it is still mainly red.

Later in the day, I went back over to Bernal and drove her to her friend's house for an overnight birthday party.

This morning I picked her up from the same place and this afternoon I drove to the grocery market and bought us supplies and food. She helped me unpack the food and put it in the refrigerator.

Mundane?

These are the mundane details of an everyday life.

She has finished with her homework and is now watching TV shows and doing some drawing. She's applied to a boarding school that specializes in the arts. It's in Napa. If she gets in, and we can afford it, she will move there next fall.

I spent last Sunday and also this past Friday filling out the financial aid forms for that school. To do that, I had to enter all sorts of personal information that felt invasive.

I hate our tax system, it is so biased against those of us in the middle or lower ends of the tax brackets.

Unbridled capitalism leads to one percent being obscenely rich and the rest of us under constant stress and struggling to make ends meet.

If my daughter gets admitted to that school, which she will no doubt be, because she is brilliant (3.95 GPA) and artistic, she will be a dream student for the administrators.

But unless they give us substantial financial aid, she will not be able to go.

We do not have $20,000 to send her there. But I do have a fraction of that.

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