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three things of which i was reminded over the course of this past weekend's reunion of old friends:
(1) if you haul ass down lombard street fast-and-screechy enough, you earn a round of applause from the inevitable herd of camera-clicking japanese tourists at the bottom;
(2) whether from up close, far away or glimpsed unexpectedly over the rooftops, that goddam bridge is still among the most visually thrilling structures on earth;
(3) when compared to the true champions of the sport, my lame incipient ass is, for better or worse, still merely skittering along the bunny slopes of alcoholism.i wish i could elaborate on that last point, but unfortunately i've managed to fall into that ego trap where all anonymous confessional bloggers end up sooner or later: my old friends are now my readers.
i'll try to make the trip home more interesting.
