The End of Paradise

Here I am back in my little hilltop apartment in the City by the Bay. I decided to post this photo to remind myself how much I love living in San Francisco... So I won't get too sad I'm no longer in Hawaii. It is a little surreal to think that just this morning I was basking in the sunshine on Waikiki Beach and playing in the warm waves of the Pacific. As wonderful as San Francisco is, the beach in this city means a wool sweater and a decided hesitation to take a dip in the drink, unless you want to be swept away by a strong rip tide.

Not quite the same thing.

In the cab on my way home from the airport tonight (yes, I could have taken BART, but by the time my plane landed, I was over travelling and just wanted to be home), I heard our local "Smooth Jazz" radio station play "Every Breath You Take" by The Police. On a smooth jazz station? Yes, The Police were/are brilliant, even though that song sucks and is a little creepy, but maestros of jazz, they were not.

Okay, anyway, back to the 50th state in the Union. I said this six months ago, but seriously this time, kids... Group trip to Hawaii later this year; who's in?

Oh, and P.S.: Huge thanks to Gretchen and Paul for checking my mail while I was gone. They are tremendous rock stars.