TODAY'S RAMBLINGS
A fine weekend home in SF, our second in a row. For those keeping score, it was the first time I had been home for two consecutive weekends since . . . February. Queue the Emerson, Lake & Palmer.
And what a weekend it was. Exploding virus numbers? They won't get me, Geddes! Friday, right out of a picture book. Saturday, right out of a picture book. And yes, Sunday, too, right out of a picture book, although perhaps Sunday was more of a comic book.
Friday, it was Hyde Street on Russian Hill, where we noshed with the stunner Jade Glory at the Killer Bacchus Wine Bar, assisted mightily by Za Pizza - the wine bar encouraged we grab slices. The sight and sound of the newly-returned cable cars clanging by only upped the already-soaring atmospherics.
There was some momentary downtime, and then it was Saturday afternoon and golf with the pleasure seeker Miguel Shannon. No, not really. You see, I thought it would be perfectly reasonable to simply walk on with no tee time to The Fleming 9 at TPC Harding Park. On a Saturday in the middle of summer. No problem, right?
When everyone in the golf shop stopped laughing, we slinked out to the range to hit balls instead. But with Miguel and I, grown-up bevs are never far behind. We tuned up in the excellent bar at TPC Harding Park, and then made our way to the Textbook Original Joe's of Westlake. Refreshed to its mid-century splendor a few years back, Joe's never disappoints. We ate in the bar and it was all very Dean and Frank. I wrapped it with a snifter of brandy back home in my backyard.
And when you'd think a grown man would go no further, I manned up Sunday for late morning Giants baseball at our local, Perry's on Union Street. I was joined by the non-dynamic duo of Hunter Deuce and Prof. Howard Blum, Esq. and we somehow made it through all 9 innings and yet another Giants win before visiting the children's wing at the hospital and volunteering. I made up that last part because it easily could have happened, but the details after the game are sketchy.
I will now be returning to bed. Have a great Monday.
FROM THE UNWASHED MASSES
My list of bobo albums didn't quite pass muster with the noted musical historian Bob Scarf:
A fine weekend home in SF, our second in a row. For those keeping score, it was the first time I had been home for two consecutive weekends since . . . February. Queue the Emerson, Lake & Palmer.
And what a weekend it was. Exploding virus numbers? They won't get me, Geddes! Friday, right out of a picture book. Saturday, right out of a picture book. And yes, Sunday, too, right out of a picture book, although perhaps Sunday was more of a comic book.
Friday, it was Hyde Street on Russian Hill, where we noshed with the stunner Jade Glory at the Killer Bacchus Wine Bar, assisted mightily by Za Pizza - the wine bar encouraged we grab slices. The sight and sound of the newly-returned cable cars clanging by only upped the already-soaring atmospherics.
There was some momentary downtime, and then it was Saturday afternoon and golf with the pleasure seeker Miguel Shannon. No, not really. You see, I thought it would be perfectly reasonable to simply walk on with no tee time to The Fleming 9 at TPC Harding Park. On a Saturday in the middle of summer. No problem, right?
When everyone in the golf shop stopped laughing, we slinked out to the range to hit balls instead. But with Miguel and I, grown-up bevs are never far behind. We tuned up in the excellent bar at TPC Harding Park, and then made our way to the Textbook Original Joe's of Westlake. Refreshed to its mid-century splendor a few years back, Joe's never disappoints. We ate in the bar and it was all very Dean and Frank. I wrapped it with a snifter of brandy back home in my backyard.
And when you'd think a grown man would go no further, I manned up Sunday for late morning Giants baseball at our local, Perry's on Union Street. I was joined by the non-dynamic duo of Hunter Deuce and Prof. Howard Blum, Esq. and we somehow made it through all 9 innings and yet another Giants win before visiting the children's wing at the hospital and volunteering. I made up that last part because it easily could have happened, but the details after the game are sketchy.
I will now be returning to bed. Have a great Monday.
FROM THE UNWASHED MASSES
My list of bobo albums didn't quite pass muster with the noted musical historian Bob Scarf:
"Just confirming you missed AC/DC.
'Gettin’ had/Gettin’ took/I tell ya folks/It’s harder than it looks' - Bon Scott"
The feedback was not all negative. An actual musician, my close friend Arthur, nodded in approval of the very mellow and very beautiful new-ish Stone Temple Pilots album I mentioned on Friday, "Perdida".
And last, there was word from the jet-setting young executive Kevin Monza. He checked in from high above northern Canada as he was winging it back from what must have been a dreamy trip to Holland. But the details may be too hot for a family publication such as this - stay tuned.
Thank you to any one that is reading this blog.
KLUF
I don't have the first ELP album, which features the nice song "Lucky Man", so sorry, I can't provide the obvious complement for today's post in a downloadable format.
But I do have this - in clearly one of the more pretentious outings of the already very pretentious prog rock era, here is Emerson, Lake, and Palmer and their classical send-up "Pictures At An Exhibition". Don't forget your cognac and smoking jacket . . .
KLUF
I don't have the first ELP album, which features the nice song "Lucky Man", so sorry, I can't provide the obvious complement for today's post in a downloadable format.
But I do have this - in clearly one of the more pretentious outings of the already very pretentious prog rock era, here is Emerson, Lake, and Palmer and their classical send-up "Pictures At An Exhibition". Don't forget your cognac and smoking jacket . . .