The Pope in My Pizza

I like Pope Francis. He definitely would be one of the Popes in my pizza. Probably the only one.

Francis says all the right things. He's better than the last Pope, Ratzinger, and Ratzinger was better than Pius and Pius was better than Hitler, though those two had a delicious working relationship for a couple of years. 

If Jesus had lived he would drive a Prius, and take one letter out of Prius and you get Pius. Life is a great big circle, like that pizza. 

45

She may be looking at her husband with love and devotion in her eyes. Really, it's possible.

Nice Day With Friends

Lunch at Presidio Social Club with Mush and Bill, preceded by a drive with PJ out to the Avenues, followed by a view of Liz's new apartment on Franklin Street. Very nice to see so many friends in one day.

Lunch was fun and tasty. I've been afraid the Presidio would become another Pier 39 but it hasn't come close yet. The building the restaurant is in has been there for close to 150 years. The Steins were very generous, as always.

Got the latest from PJ whose computer threatened to die but it apparently has been brought back from the dead. We'll pick it up today and find out.

And our friend Liz, who has lived in the same house near City College for 35 years and who raised her kids there, has become the recipient of a glorious old-style apartment as the result of the generosity of a cousin who died recently. So she's moving into the apartment and selling the house, and you know what packing up 35 years worth means, as well as moving someone else's stuff out of a packed apartment. But in the end it's a great move for Liz, though her service dog, the dear Federicka, will probably need to be retired and go to live with Liz's daughter, and a new dog brought in who can get more quickly used to the new apartment.

Fighting off the SF Allergy Curse that hits me every year. It's not the most comfortable thing in the world, but you know, perspective.

Happy Birthday

Ask Alice

The coincidences are too impossible to even describe. Anyway, we had dinner last night in The Great Fate-niks' lovely new condo, right below where Coit Tower was doing these color transformations all night long, which they say had something to do with 9-11 but I just saw red and blue so I think it's an homage to America. The next thing we knew we were posing with Alice Wurufurusan-san.

Just earlier that day I had Facebooked with Ari-su Wurufurusan-san's son, and I dare you to pronounce that five times in a row. We hadn't seen her for several years, since the viewing of Eric's film "The Callback," but it turns out she lives in the same building as The Fate-niks. Still wondering what ever happened to that hysterical movie.

This is Not Brooklyn.

Only Part of the Story

BZWZ got back from New Mexico last night. We spoke to her today and she told us about her and Chris seeing Mesa Verde, Chaco Canyon, Acoma, Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Taos. She asked us about Maine and we told her about being on the boat, little inlets, harbors, islands covered with spruces, lobsters.

But you can't really cover what a trip is all about, can you, unless you're there?  The people you're with and the places you pass by but only barely notice, and in Maine the smell of the sea which permeates everything. The moonrise. The big sea and your little boat.

Bobo Waves to Desi

We grabbed this from a video we were shooting for Desi. Bobo is waving to him (though currently he is in Seattle).

I Hate Baseball, You Know What I Mean

We left Deer Isle at 9am, Crow drove us to Bangor, got there by 10:30, caught the 11am Concord Coach to Portland, pulled in at 1:15pm, walked around the corner for fabulous Italian sandwiches...

ASIDE: The place is calls Anania's. Real East Coast Chicken Parm, Meatballs, squishy bread, ten-finger grease and red sauce bath. Don't forget the Whoopee Pie.

...then took a cab to the Portland Airport...

ASIDE: All cab drivers at the airport and bus station in Portland Maine, are from Ethiopia or Somalia.

...where we sat, sat, sat, waiting for the 4:40 plane to Detroit

ASIDE: The Delta terminal at Detroit Airport is world-class, like the future envisioned in 1975, monorails whizzing by, glass, fountains. Don't look outside...

...changed planes and waited another hour and a half for the 7:59 plane to SFO which was delayed until 8:15. Landed at 9:55 our time.

The second we touched down I took my phone off Airplane Mode to check the score of the Dodger-Giant game. We were ahead 4-3 in the eighth but I had exactly 4% juice left on my phone.

In the cab to World Headquarters I had 1% left when they tied it up. The cab driver was from an African country that does not prioritize listening to baseball games on the radio.

Ran into the house, mm hmmm, mm hmmm, everything looks fine, fine, fine, OK now run downstairs and turn on the TV, we've got a runner on third and one out -- they balk home the winning run! -- but --they DON'T CALL IT! You can see it clear as day but -- THEY DON'T CALL IT!

It's been a really long and exhausting day but , OK, extra innings.

I couldn't do it, fell asleep in the top of the 14th. Then A.J., Jimmy, Chase and A-Gon won it in the bottom. I slept uneasily until I checked my IPad, saw we'd won the game, then settled into a lovely slumber.

After such a long and wonderful month, starting with Isabella being here and taking her to L.A. and back home to Brooklyn, the theater and friends, and then up to beautiful Spring Glen, then out to Maine and onto the boat seeing lighthouses and lobster boats in a world I'd never quite imagined before with fine old friends, you'd think we'd be all stretched out now, free and easy.

But it's September. Pennant races.

ASIDE: I hate baseball. I love baseball.