Breaking it up

I figured that y'all deserved a break from food today. So let's talk about other stuff. Besides, I haven't had time to cook anything since Monday.

A few weeks ago, or something like that, I had an email exchange with Stacy over the route I take when showing tourists around San Francisco. I like to think that my tour is fairly comprehensive. It mostly depends on what time we start and the stamina of the tourist. Somehow my cousin forgot her camera so I took pictures for her.


What every tourist wants to see.

On Tuesday, I got the chance to put my skills to the test once more after one of my younger cousins (first cousin once removed) arrived in town for the first time. It's basically a driving tour with a some stops. In my younger days (high school) when I did not have access to a car, the tour was much more abbreviated as it was done via walking and public transportation.


Jack London's cabin at Jack London Square.


Waiting for the freight train to get moving again so that we could cross the street.

Wednesday we did the East Bay thing. She had no interest in suburbia so we stuck to Oakland and Berkeley. I would have liked to have included some Marin County in the whole thing besides the drive through on Tuesday evening but she returned home today. Perhaps on her next trip. Because there will be more trips.


One of our last stops on Wednesday was at the B&N in Emeryville and look at what I found there. Laurie, my cousin and I did chuckle at the photo of you wearing all of your knitted goodies.

And there was a challenge to it all. When I spoke to her on the phone Monday night about her current California experience, there were no happy, glowing words. Because for the last year she has lived in the L.A. area -- Hollywood to be exact. There is something about L.A. that is off-putting to folks from outside of California. When I lived in Virginia, I heard, way too many times, folks say, "I've been to California before and I didn't like it." Always upon further examination, I have found that these folks have only visited L.A. And when I later convince them to visit the San Francisco area, they change their mind about the state. Same thing happened with my cousin.

And the weirdest part is that in my mind, in some ways my cousin will always be the two-year-old girl who woke me up bright and early by banging on the side of the bed when I stayed with her family. It's hard to believe that she's now a psychologist. Neil, I'd give you her number but she prefers to work with the criminally insane. Of course, this means that she just might be able to help the family...