MR. JOHN STEINBECK - GIANT, LEGEND, INSPIRATION, HERO

“I guess there are never enough books.”

-- John Steinbeck
“A Life In Letters”

I used to tell my mother that “there is no such thing as too many books”. Once, several years ago I had a website when I wrote a book under another name, and on that website I put that quote of mine - “there is no such thing as too many books”.

Then today I found the above quote of Mr. Steinbeck at the National Steinbeck Center. I had not ever seen it before. You see, I am only about one-third of the way through “A Life In Letters”, a collection of his letters to family, friends and colleagues assembled by his widow after his death. It is a great work, and a particular inspiration to me. I have two copies - one in paperback and one First Edition in hardcover which I acquired from a collectible bookseller. That particular hardcover is one of my greatest treasures.

Today was the The Great Steinbeck Pilgrimage, and I did expect it to be very good. I did not expect what I got. It was far beyond anything I had anticipated.

First let me say that this vacation had not been exactly what I had hoped in the first few days, although parts of it have been amazing. I was not “getting” certain writing vibes I thought I would, and so forth. Yesterday, I turned a bit of a corner with the lifting of the fog, and my wonderful walk down the Embarcadero. Today, everything changed for the better. I think I needed a whole week just to recover from no time off in so long.

So, I set out on my journey today. I must first tell you that I stupidly left my digital Nikon in the hotel room closet. Yes, I know, but it was early and I had no coffee in my system. I plead internal fog as the cause. I bought a disposable camera, but unfortunately for you that means I can’t upload the pics. I’ll have them developed onto a CD and upload and post them after I get back to Texas.

The drive to San Jose was quick, it seemed, and I then I began to drive through the most lovely country, mountains (or hills, depending on your perspective), valleys, beautiful farmlands, tall trees and rivers. The drive was scenic and therefore seemed shorter than its two hours. I arrived in Salinas and saw all sorts of signs with the name “Steinbeck” on them.

I continued to drive until I reached Monterey. I stopped there briefly to re-group and to see the pretty little town. Then I drove on to Pacific Grove (which is umbilically and seamlessly attached to Monterey).

First of all, the Pacific Ocean there is breathtaking. It seemed to me to have a different color there than anywhere else I’ve ever seen it. It was the brightest, loveliest blue with a bit of a soft fog just out where the horizon might be.

I drove up a hill and drove right past the little house where Mr. Steinbeck had done much of his early writing. It was tiny - all the houses there were tiny; but, Oh God! What a view of that Ocean they have. No wonder he loved this place.

Then I drove back through Monterey, and on to Salinas again. This was Mr. Steinbeck’s hometown. His parents lived there, and he grew up there. The National Steinbeck Center is in Salinas and the man is buried in a cemetery there.

As I drove back into Salinas I was aware that I was running shorter on time than I had planned. I had spent more time in the Monterey/Pacific Grove area than I thought I would. So, as I looked at a map I decided that I needed to buy flowers and go to the cemetery before going to the Steinbeck Center - due to the logistics of driving.

Just as I was re-planning that in my mind, I saw this place up on my right called “Flower Magik” - I kid you not. Magic indeed. Far be it from me to drive all over a completely unfamiliar town looking for a flower shop when a “magik” one has been plopped down in my path! I pulled in and the lady was very sweet. She helped select flowers to lay at the grave of a “gentleman” in the cemetery (I didn’t tell her I was a sappy, star-struck fan of the late, great Nobel Laureate, Mr. John Steinbeck).

Here is where I digress for just a moment. There are many stories of Mr. Steinbeck’s that I have read and loved. I have not read all of his works. I will read them all, but I’m not done yet. Here’s the deal, I seem to like different ones best, from the ones most of the known universe likes best. What can I say? I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drummer.

For those of you who don’t know, The Great Man was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1940 for “The Grapes of Wrath” (more on that later), and was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1962. In the citation for his Nobel, “Grapes of Wrath” was one of the works specifically mentioned. Also, he was the first Nobel Laureate in Literature asked to sit with the King and Queen of Sweden at the Nobel awards dinner. This great honor had previously been bestowed upon winners of the award for some scientific achievement.

Also, it’s important to note that this book, “Grapes of Wrath”, a novel, effected political change in the United States of America that changed (and probably saved) people’s lives. The book dealt with the sorry state of affairs for migrant farm workers in California at that time. Then First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt read the book, and was so moved (and so aware of the actual research Mr. Steinbeck did in writing the book), that she spearheaded legal change to make the lives of those people better. A man, a writer, who wrote a novel, effected societal improvement in the lives of poor, powerless people - WITH HIS PEN! See what I mean? Understand that title on this blog post?

My favorite work of his is his non-fiction work “Travels With Charley: In Search of America”. This was a travelogue he wrote after his Nobel prize. It’s a snapshot of America in the early sixties. It was a trip he took around the U.S. with his standard poodle, Charley, in a camper truck he named “Rocinante” (after Don Quixote’s horse).

The first work of his I ever read was “The Pearl”. Another of my favorite works is a short story called “The Chrysanthemums” (BTW, you should know that the name of these flowers comes from the Greek word for “gold”).

I also believe that the opening sentences of “Cannery Row” are the best of any book - ever. Buy it, or borrow it from the library, but READ IT. While you’re at it, pick up a copy of his short stories and read “The Chrysanthemums”. Trust me, you need to do this.

Back to the florist. The first stems this sweet lady showed me were yellow spider CHRYSANTHEMUMS!! I’m not making this up. I realize that the name of this blog is about me makin’ stuff up - and I COULD make this up - but, I’m not. :)

Of course, I went for the Mums. Then she recommended a yellow rose and two other roses that were yellow with dark orangey-coral edges on them. It was a lovely, small bouquet. She put little water tubes on them, wrapped them in lovely clear cellophane and tied it all together with a yellow ribbon.

I drove down the street two blocks and there was the street I needed to turn on for the cemetery. It was like I had been to this town before, I was finding my way around so easily (this was meant to be, people). I turned right and drove, and near the end of that street was the cemetery. I stopped at the office and asked directions to his grave.

There is a big, black wrought iron arrow on one of the drives in the cemetery that says “Steinbeck” and it points in the direction of his final resting place. Still, I couldn’t find it even with her directions and the arrow. I was wandering around and looking for what she told me. I went back to the car and got the picture I had printed out from the Steinbeck Tour website and then looked up in the direction of the arrow again. There! I had walked right past it and around it!

The woman in the office had said there was a large monument that stood up over the whole plot and it said “Holmes”, which made no sense to me. This would be because I am a STEINBECK AFFICIONADO! What the marker actually said was “Hamilton”. This would have made immediate sense to me (and made it simple for me to find the plot), since that is his mother’s maiden name. It was his mother’s family’s plot.

Once I had correctly identified the location of the plot I walked over to it. This is where the whole day hit me in a way that even I had not expected. I wanted to go on this Pilgrimage and see the National Steinbeck Center. I wanted to pay homage to my Literary Hero. It meant a lot to me; but then I got there and I saw where he wrote his early books (in that little seaside house), and finally I walked through that cemetery with my flowers in hand and I walked up to the plot...

I stood there and started to weep. Yes, like the sap that I am, and I admit it. The marker said “John Steinbeck” and next to him was his wife Elaine, and below them in the plot were his parents, and just below him one of his sisters. Here was The Great Man himself and his family. A breeze was blowing. It was a lovely, sunny day. I was standing at the final resting place of none other than Pulitzer Prize winner, Nobel Laureate, and My Own Personal Literary Hero, Mr. John Steinbeck.
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I took some photos and laid the flowers there and took another photo with my flowers in place - my yellow Chrysanthemums. Then I walked back to the car and wiped my eyes and drove on to the National Center.

Once there, I paid and walked into the exhibit which was WONDERFUL! Now, I have to go back because I could spend hours there that I didn’t have today, AND I told Mr. Steinbeck I would come back and pay respects again. It’s a writer thing, people, don’t try to understand my wacky, emotional, sappiness too much. I’M A SAP!!

Anyway, I’m walking through the whole exhibit thing, and I’m ooohhing and I’m aahhhing and I get to the end and there is this (see the photo)!




I go out to the lady in charge and I say “Is that the actual truck? Or is it just one to show what it was like?” She knew immediately what I meant, and she said “Yes, it’s the actual truck,” and she smiled. I said “No way, really?” She nodded.

I went back into the end of the gallery and looked at it again. I took my own photo (but it’s on the disposable camera thingy - so this one’s off the internet). People, this is the REAL, Honest to God, Rocinante (so named) truck that he drove around the United States with Charley! As in, my favorite book “Travels with Charley...”!! THE REAL TRUCK!!!

More Sap Time here, so get ready. I started to cry again. Here was that actual truck. My Hero drove this truck. My Inspiration wrote in this truck, and slept in this truck. That truck went all over the U.S. with Mr. Steinbeck and his dog. My absolute favorite thing that he ever wrote was this great non-fiction account of his trip.

You need to read this one, too, people. I’m just telling you. You can’t not read this stuff. It’s going to change things for you. You’re going to enjoy the prose and the rhythm of it, and the stories themselves, and then later when you’re done reading it and you put it down, you’re going to have a lot of moments where you go “Hmmm”. And you’ll remember these stories - like years and years later - and it will matter that you remember them.

Having wept over the truck, I was now ready to spend vast quantities of money in the gift shop. If I could have packed up the exhibit, in its entirety, (with the TRUCK) and brought it home with me, I would have, but they don’t allow that. :( So, I bought out the gift shop. :)

Then I drove back to San Fran - lovely, awesome, sun-soaked drive back. Ahhhhh.

I arrived at my lovely hotel, took a shower and got all spiffed up for dinner. I had a lovely Italian meal at a place near the hotel (just off of Union Square) and then I caught the Powell street cable car back down to Market and walked the two blocks back to the hotel.

A fine meal, a cable car ride on a beautiful, breezy San Franciscan evening, and all of it after a lovely, sunny, and unbelievably meaningful day of connection with my Literary Inspiration.

I’ve read his works, and I’ve read his journals and I’ve read his letters. I feel as if I know him. Of course, I don’t really - but I don’t believe any of us ever really know someone. I think when you read a writer, you know some of the most important stuff about them, because that’s the pieces of their heart.

Standing at his grave today, I was surprised at myself for being so moved. I wept today because I have read his letters and journals that discuss his internal struggles as a writer. I wept today because his work is so beautiful and meaningful to me. I wept today because he is no longer with us, and all we have left are his words - in his works, and journals and letters. For some writers that would not be much in the absence of the writer himself. In the case of Mr. Steinbeck it is more than so many could ever offer. I wept because I do have all those words of his - all that beauty - and because HIS words are more than most of us can ever hope to leave behind - including me.

Polla Filia,
J.F.

BLOG-O-PALOOZA OR HOW I CAME OUT OF THE FOG

"I beg to differ with Mr. Sandburg now. The fog does not roll in on "little cat feet" - little cat feet are softer and cuter, and they’re fun to hold on to. This fog came down over our ears like an ugly wool cap. It was an insult to cat feet everywhere."
-- J.F. Constantine (Me)

So, I haven’t been the best vacation blogger on the planet. So, sue me. I *am* on vacation, ya know. I’m gonna try to make up for it tonight - at least in part. There will be photos, too - but, Ansel Adams I’m not, so no critiqueing of the photos here, people!

I got out on Monday and went to Ghiradelli Square and bought chocolate (yes, I know I went there the other day, but I didn’t buy anything - well, not much anyway - so I went back Monday). Lordy! Did I ever buy chocolate - but, when it’s there just staring up at you like that... **sigh**

Then I walked about some, although I have to say that the winds that day were getting ugly, and unbeknownst to me they were going to get uglier. Now, there was no big fog that day, but it was getting a bit on the chilly side. Still, I can take it as long as the sun is shining down on my pointed little head.



There was a major redeeming factor to this day, and that factor was a restaurant known as Kokkari. It’s a Greek place, and I’m a Greek (need I say more?). So, I had a nice little chat with some fellow Greeks while I was there, and I drank some yummy Greek wine. Don’t ask me what it was, because I’m ashamed to admit I don’t remember the name - it was going down pretty smooth (if you get my drift). The dinner was wonderful, and I followed it with my personal favorite dessert - a little something called Galatobourako. I washed that down with some good Greek kafe (glyko - sweet). Mmmmmmmmm.

On Tuesday I woke up with the SHROUD of fog over everything. Boooooooo! The wind was 35 mph!! And it were cold, people! I went walkabout for a while and then came back to the hotel. I holed myself up in this place, but good. I finished a book I’ve been wanting to finish for a long time. I figured, this is a luxury hotel for which I am paying a pretty penny, I’m gonna get some bang for my buck and stay in. So I did.

Dinner that night was at Waterbar. Very nice meal. I had a salad of Heirloom tomatoes that was *to die for*. OHH, the basil and olive oil!! OHHH!

Wednesday was a damn near repeat of Tuesday weather-wise. Boooooooo! I did get out a little bit more, though, because the wind wasn’t quite as scary. Took a few photos, but really the conditions were not beautiful and I was not wanting to waste my f stops on it. :(

Dinner that night was at Waterfront. Another very nice meal. The crab cakes were quite worthy of remark - the seasoning was perfectly balanced and they were served on a Meyer lemon aioli. Mmmm. Mmmm. MMMMM! :9

Now, both Waterbar and Waterfront are located on the Embarcadero, but they are quite a ways apart; however, they do both sport a great view of the bay, and they both serve very nice seafood.

That brings us to today - Thursday. *The sun’ll come out tomorrow* (that’s me singing on Wednesday). Well, so it did - come out today, that is. Yowza! Only a slight breeze, sunny sunshine and temps that were about 65. YEAH!! (Doing the "Sun is Back Out Again Dance")

Now, we were talking!

I had lunch on the deck at Gordon Biersch overlooking the bay just below the Bay Bridge. I had a yum, yum, yummy Spinach salad and some calamari. Mmmmm.



Then I proceeded to get up, cross the Embarcadero, and walk on the esplanade that runs all the way down that fine boulevard, along the bay. I walked, and lifted my face to the sun, and felt that lovely bay breeze, and I snapped photos, and I walked some more. Before it was all said and done I was at Fisherman’s Wharf.

Check out my little walk, people (click on this link)! That would be 1.63 miles. Ahhhhhh.













The beauty of this day redeemed those last two stinky days. That walk in the sun was medicine for the soul on about ten different levels. I wish I could bottle that. If I could, I would and then I’d send it to ya - UPS Next Day Air. :)

Dinner tonight was at Ana Mandara and the food was lovely, and very unique. Also, they had a jazz trio playing there that was absolutely brilliant! I went up to them before I left and told them so. That was some of the best dark, smokey bar jazz I’ve heard in a long time - and it wasn’t even a dark, smokey bar!

Now, I am back in the safety of the fine hotel. They are bringing me homemade chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate soy milk (for those of us who are challenged by the cow, this is bliss).

Tomorrow is The Big Steinbeck Pilgrimage to Monterey and Salinas. I will blog about it, although I’m getting back pretty late tomorrow, so it may be Saturday before I blog it. Also, Saturday and Sunday are.... [scroll down for it]






INDYCAR QUALIFYING AND RACING DAYS!!!!!!! :) Wooooo-hoooooo!



I’ll be in Sonoma those two days. This trip gets closer to its end, but I refuse to think about that now. Nope, I’m just focused on cookies and hot chocolate milk right now. Heh, heh, heh... Night ebe’body!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

THIS PLACE WAS A *PLACE*!

So, today was Sunday, and instead of going to Monterey today (more on that later), I decided it would be a “kicked back” day for me.

Monterey and The Great Steinbeck Pilgrimage has been postponed until next Friday (when I next have a car to drive) due to the fact that I realized that the Concours d’Elegance was at Pebble Beach this weekend, which meant the entire Monterey peninsula would be full of cars and *people*! Too much mish-mash for me and my purposes, so a postponement to my Steinbeck events.

Now, back to today and my Kicked Back Sunday.

First, I slept late. This is *very* important for beginning any “kicked back” day. You must first begin with some seeeeeriiiioooouusss kicking back of the sleeping late variety. So I did.

*check*

Then, I took my time getting presentable and ambled down to the lobby of the hotel (there must be no fast walking, or even regular walking on a “kicked back” day - there must only be ambling, or anything that is like ambling).

*check*

Then I ankled myself on over to the Starbuck’s where I got myself a nice little jolt of java, which I sipped while perusing the New York Times (especially including the magazine and the Book Review). Once sufficient perusing of The Great Newspaper had been accomplished, I was off to Walgreen’s for sundries. Then back to the hotel to stash said sundries.

After fortification with kafe and proper supplies, one must then embark on a Capitalist adventure on a “kicked back” day.

So, ambling (again) from the hotel I went down to Bloomingdales, and visited various other fine shopping establishments located within the San Francisco Centre. Yes, Virginia, I spent money there. Why on earth would one amble down to an upscale centre of Capitalism on a Kicked Back Sunday and *not* spend money?? Sheeesh!

*check*

Then, after money well spent, I walked (read ambled) over to Union Square and did some window shopping.

It was now time for some proper relaxing, and recovery from the Capitalist afternoon adventure.

I walked back to the fine hotel in which I am staying and parked myself in my very nice room with my shoes off and my feet propped up.

At this point, I really felt that the day required some mid-afternoon *room service*. I picked up the phone and ordered some fresh berries and raspberry sorbet, which I washed down with some cold ginger ale. Then sinking back into the armchair, with the feet propped up on the cushy ottoman, the golden San Franciscan sun streaming in through my hotel window, I read a book - for 3 hours. Yes, friends, this would be *bliss time* for this writer!!

*check*

Now, it was time to get ready for dinner. The restaurants at which I have eaten so far on this trip have been good, but I wouldn’t write home to my blogspace about them; *and then* there was tonight’s restaurant.

I had made this reservation based on scuttlebutt, the restaurant’s website and menu, and the fact that the place was in North Beach. My novel that I’m researching while I’m here has a relationship to North Beach, so I decided that I would eat at this place on my first Sunday night in the Bay Town.

This is not a fancy place - leave your “hoity” and your “toity” at the house when you go here. There won’t be any of that. What there will be is some damn good food, so get your bib on, Bubba!

The place is called Trattoria Contadina. This place is just a small Italian family restaurant on the corner of Mason and Union. Lovely, quaint part of town, and a homey little restaurant. I opened the door to go in, and I knew. Ah, the smell of garlic and olive oil! Just a tiny place, and it looked full, but they had a table for me. They had my reservation and my table was there and ready!

First they brought the bread and the olive oil. Then I ordered a glass of some marvelous Sangiovese (I don’t remember what vintner, but it was a Sangiovese) - OH!

Then the main dish - some rigatoni, sauteed with eggplant, big chunks of tomato, some onions and black olives, and the whole thing with a wonderful tomato sauce over it. Then the guy comes and grates some fresh parmagiano over the top. Mmmmmmwwwaaahhh! Beautiful!!

I couldn’t eat all of it. It was a huge portion of food; but, I made a respectable dent in it. Then I waved at the guys in the kitchen on my way out and congratulated them on a job well done.

This was a *place* - this place!!

My Grandpa (the Greek, who was a chef with a little restaurant like this one) - oh, Grandpa would have loved this place.

Early evening bliss, upon afternoon bliss - AHHHHH, the Kicked Back Sunday was looking like a runaway hit!!

Even now my friends, I am thinking there is only one way to end this Beautiful Kicked Back Sunday.

Yes, you are right - you know, don’t you?

Yes, I am calling room service. They are bringing me the double chocolate cake (with the raspberry sauce underneath it) and the decaf coffee.

Ohhhhh, yes my friends, it was a Beautiful Kicked Back Sunday - and this place?

Oh! What a *place* it is!!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

P.S. Tomorrow, while out and about, I will go back over to North Beach and I’ll send you a nice little snap of the exterior of Trattoria Contadina.

OVER THE BRIDGE AND INTO THE WOODS

I rented a car yesterday and had my first driving experience in San Francisco. The first thing you need to know about me (if you don’t know me) is that I love to drive. LOVE IT!

So, I also love New York City, but I never drive there - NEVER. I walk and take cabs. I love New York, but not when I'm behind the wheel. I'd rather risk my life with a New York cabbie.

You can now add San Francisco to my list of cities where I do not like to drive. The traffic is as bad and scary as New York. Plus a lot of the streets are really narrow, pedestrians walk all over the place (a la New York City) and a lot of the streets are one way, and then you get to a corner where you can turn left or right (because of the direction of the street), but the sign says no left (or right, as the case may be) turn!! **sigh** You can drive for-ev-er in this town looking for a place to turn a corner to try to get where you want to go!! It’s nuts.

If I hadn’t been going to the Muir Woods, and if I hadn’t been planning my trip for tomorrow to Monterey, I would not have rented a car. Tomorrow I will get in the car and follow the *exact* directions the bellman gave me to get up on the 101 and then I. Am. Out.

I am renting a car next weekend, too; but, once again this is so I can leave town to go somewhere else to see something in particular. In next weekend’s case, that something in particular is an IndyCar race. (Yeah!)

Now, back to yesterday’s trip to the Muir Woods. First of all, I had to find the road (Van Ness Ave., which is also the 101) which would take me across the Golden Gate Bridge and through Sausalito and on to Mill Valley, where I could then get to the Muir Woods.

*It took me longer to find my way to Van Ness on all these wacky one-way streets then it did for me to drive to Mill Valley!!* I’m not kidding, people. Seriously...

*sigh*

Once I got to Van Ness it was a piece of cake. Crossing the Golden Gate bridge was thrilling. Then I ooohed and aahhed over the view from the hills above Sausalito looking back out over the Bay toward the City. If I hadn’t been driving the car, I would have snapped some pics for ya’ll to see. :(

When I drive up to Sonoma for the car race, I’m going to try to find a place to pull over so I can get the shots I want. :)

The Muir Woods was beautiful, but there were too many people there. Okay, so I knew I wouldn’t be alone in the forest in some uber zen experience, but honestly I didn’t think there would be THAT many people there. Yikers! It were crowded... Reminded me of a day at Six Flags, or the zoo, or something.

Parking was a bit of challenge as well. When I did get the wheels parked, and get inside the “Muir Woods National Monument” it was amazing. There aren’t words for this really. So, here are some photos. I tried to shoot with people in there so you could get an idea of the scale, but even these don’t do it justice. You look up and the trees just go up and up and up... Until the sun blinds you and you can’t even see the top of them!








Then I drove back and ooohed and aahhhed again as I caught sight of that gorgeous, huge Bay - with Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge off in the distance, the gleaming city rising up beyond Alcatraz, and the Golden Gate framing it all up on one side.

The weather has been magnificent, too. Clear blue and cool (upper 60's/low 70's). As I was writing this, I just checked the temps - 65 in San Fran, 99 in Central TX. All I gotta say is, it’s gonna be tough to go back to those temps after this bliss.

Tonight I’m dining in a very nice restaurant and I’ll have a report on that in the next blog entry. Also, I head out to Monterey and Salinas tomorrow on my John Steinbeck Pilgrimage. I'll have a report and photos on that.

Meanwhile, here are some photos of my wanderings near Ghiradelli Square and up Hyde Street today. :)

Polla Filia,
J.F.

A FISH STORY

No quotes tonight. No t-minus. This thing is still on Central Daylight Time, and the body is screaming for a bath and sleep!

It’s not even 10:00 p.m out here in San Francisco yet, but in my brain it’s midnight. :)

Oh, and I’m being technologically challenged, so this will have to be posted tomorrow outside the hotel. I think their mui-expensive wireless is disabling my sweet broadband service. At least I hope that’s what’s happening. If it’s not, then AT&T and I are going to have a “Come to Jesus” meeting over the phone in the a.m. BUT, not until after breakfast and coffee. :9

So, here’s the report. Day 1 of the San Francisco vaca.

The flight was lovely, and I won’t waste blog space on more detail there. The pilot did his job correctly, and God bless him!!

The driver picked me up at the airport and I looked out the window all the way to the hotel - and grinned, and grinned, AND GRINNED. :D

Oh, the temperature - 72 degrees - and a breeze - YES! Clear blue skies. The bay so big and beautiful - I had forgotten how big and beautiful. Then the Bay Bridge came into view. It gets short shrift with Goldy over there preening near the Marin headlands; but, I have always loved the Bay Bridge. There it was silver and gleaming today - proud of itself - maybe even knowing that an appreciative eye watched.

Then we rounded a corner, cleared a rise, and there was The City!!

Yes, I. Am. Here!

I’ve planned this trip, and made the trip in my mind in planning it. I’ve dreamed of this trip, and made the trip in my mind each time in dreaming it. All the photos in the world, and plans, and dreams never match up to the reality of a place - and *especially* not this place.

Now, I am here and I see its hills and sun. Now I am here, and I experience its cool breeze. Now I am here, and I feel its energy - its mystical nature - its *magic*!

In the hotel bar earlier this evening, I sipped a marvelous Malbec and looked out the windows at waning early evening light. I can’t believe how much of this place I forgot, while at the same time remembering so much of its mystery and charm.

I dined at Alioto’s - a San Franciscan historic fish restaurant - Italian and fish - Sicilians to be exact. Now this is a real fish place. Music a la Frank Sinatra plays softly in the background. This is a family place - a nice family place.

From my booth, I could see the sun setting behind the Golden Gate Bridge. Yes, this is it - seafood in San Francisco with The Great Bridge as a backdrop.

I started dinner with a nice Chianti and some calamari (I’m Greek and I love my squid, people). Then I followed with a New England style clam chowder, and then an entree of grilled salmon, followed by fresh berries (strawberries and blueberries) and some coffee.

The sun dipped down enough to let the Golden Gate show its stuff - trying to show me that Bay Bridge isn’t all that (I still love the BB, though). There Goldy has been since 1937. It is an architectural wonder, and at one time it was the longest span of any suspension bridge. When one considers when it was built, and that only 11 men lost their lives building it, it is indeed a wonder. The safety nets (which failed only once that fateful day when those 11 lost their lives) set a new safety standard theretofore never achieved. So, the thing has more historic importance than just its mere existence.

It’s rough work sipping chianti, gazing out the dining room window at the Golden Gate Bridge spanning the San Francisco Bay, leading out to the Pacific, while watching the sun set and dusk fall. Yes, it’s rough work, but someone has to do it. So, why shouldn’t it be me? ;)

Time for bath and bed. Night y’all!

Oh, and breakfast HAS been ordered for tomorrow morning. :9

Polla Filia,
J.F.

Update: Broadband inexplicably dead in the water. Not going to get on 1-800-TechSupportHell with AT&T or the computer people. I bellied up and paid for the hotel’s internet. It actually wasn’t bad. So, I am now re-connectedddddd!!!!

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW

"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow."
-- Mark Twain

It is now t-minus 2 days and counting until The Big San Francisco Vacation.

By the time FeedBurner blows this out into the universe, it will be t-minus 1 day. Wow!

The next two nights will be slim on sleep, I think. There is too much anticipation and excitement in my brain.

I am looking forward to the time alone in a crowded city - it is the paradox of aloneness and crowds. It is a perfect state for me. My mind will center itself back into writer mode. The stories that try to play now, will spin up and run without so much struggle. The characters will be themselves, the locations will show me their place in the plot. Ideas will flood in. The confluence of time to myself, and the spirit of the place will create something unexpected. It will be the merging of me with San Francisco in that window of time.

The window begins the day after tomorrow. What I will find there is all the thrill.

Polla Filia,
J.F.

RESTLESSNESS, FEARS, HOPES AND A TEXAN IN A STRANGE LAND

“When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find himself a good and sufficient reason for going.”

“Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession. Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word. And there's an opening convey of generalities. A Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner.” +
Travels With Charley: In Search of America
-- John Steinbeck

“We should not let our fears hold us back from pursuing our hopes.”
-- John F. Kennedy

It is now t-minus 4 days and counting until The Big San Francisco Vacation.

To expound on the two quotes above from Mr. Steinbeck, I must tell you that I have found a good and sufficient reason for going, and that I will indeed be a foreigner in four more short days. :)

I will be in San Francisco, and as that is located in the State of California, and *not* the State of Texas, I will be (as we Greeks say) *xeno* (a stranger). In this case, I will be happy to be xeno. :)

The quote from President Kennedy is there just for me. I know what it means to me, and a few people very close to me will understand it also. There are fears associated with this trip, and there are also hopes. As I have written in prior posts, this trip is far more than a mere vacation. There are many layers to this trip: vacation, book research, recovery, and many other things.

I can scarcely believe that the days are down to this - only four - and that I will soon be on a plane winging my way toward a trip I first conceived over two years ago. It has been a long time coming, and I am a changed person from the one who originally planned this journey. I believe, as difficult as those changes were to take, ultimately they are making, and already have made me better in a multitude of ways. It is in the crucible that the metal is made strong.

San Francisco will be a place for me to celebrate the harvest of change.

I can’t even wrap my head around the level of excitement I am starting to feel for this trip. There are so many last minute things I have to do in the next 3 days, I will not have much time to really absorb, and enjoy that excitement.

Once I get on that plane to San Francisco, and I have settled into my seat, I will be able to smile and soak it up. When I actually land and then step out into the city itself I know I will have a grin on my face that will last the entire two weeks.

I will report daily from the City by the Bay, with photos. In the meantime, I have some serious packing to do. :)

Polla Filia,
J.F.

+ Mr. Steinbeck, a Californian, who lived the last bit of his life in New York, knew about Texas because his wife, Elaine was Texan. He understood the Texan mindset well.

JOURNEYS AND THE BLISS OF RANDOM ELEMENTS

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. ”
"Travels with Charley: In Search of America"
-- John Steinbeck


















It is now t-minus 8 days and counting until The Big San Francisco Vacation.

We are into the *single digits* on this Vacation Countdown. Woo-hoo! It is looking a lot more real, but I will still be pinching myself when I get there.

I have my agenda for those two weeks all set up. That is to say I know what I *believe* I will be doing each day of my trip; but, there is always a random element to each journey.

I expect that. I welcome it.

Here’s what I mean: I had all the restaurants for this trip picked out, and I had them all assigned to specific evenings during the trip for specific reasons. In my mind, they were arranged to correspond with what I did that day, and to enhance the ending of each day.

However, when I logged onto Opentable there were a couple of restaurants that couldn’t accommodate me on a specific day, or at a specific time, and one I couldn’t seem to get into at all on the days when I thought it would work. The net is, I had to rearrange three of the restaurants onto different days, delete one restaurant, and add in another one.

Guess what? Instead of messing up my “best laid plans”, the situation enhanced them. It turned out the re-arrangement of restaurants forced upon me was better than my original plan!

Following Mr. Steinbeck’s advice, I’m not thinking I can control this journey. I'm planning the journey, and then it's planning me a bit - but, it's not such a bad bit.

The random piece of the journey is the exciting part (see also Riding the Dream World Wave). I make the best plans I can (so I don’t waste a lot of time on the ground trying to figure things out); but, when it doesn’t quite work out as planned, I roll with it and see how it shakes out. I know it will probably take me somewhere fun. At a minimum, it damn sure won’t be boring!

The randomness - the things that will bring surprise to me each day - the things that don’t involve decisions I make - these are the things that get me *jazzed* with anticipation for the trip.

Which segues into this next topic about me not doing so much, but having stuff done for me.

For instance, I'm getting excited about seemingly silly stuff, like this: ordering breakfast the night before, and having it brought to my room at a specific time the next morning. This thought is making me very, verrrrry happy right now. **sighhhh** :)

I'm terrible at waking up/getting up in the a.m. It makes me cranky.

I. Am. Not. A. Morning. Person.

SO, when I have to drag my sad behind out of bed early in the a.m., I grab a bottle of Odwalla Super Protein Vanilla Al'mondo, stop at the Starbucks and get a Quad Grande Soy (dairy doesn't like me AT ALL) Cinnamon Dolce Latte - and that's breakfast.

Got NO time to cook, and absolutely NO inclination for it - especially in the a.m. Hell, I need Scotch tape for my eyelids just to function until 10:00 a.m.!

So, a real breakfast? Yeah! Brought to my room on a little rolling table, with white linens, and lovely coffee service (I'll be sucking down the whole carafe - I *will* pause long enough to pour it into the cup first), and juice, and perfectly prepared food. :9 Yuuuummerssss!!



















Then there are all the lovely dinners I have planned each evening (and which in part planned themselves) - nice restaurants, great service, high-quality food, nice wines, lovely atmosphere.

Hey! There's a common theme here - it's all about being waited on, and having other people bring things to me, and create a nice environment for me. In other words, IT'S ALL ABOUT ME!

Bring on that vacation, baby!! Hand and foot wait service - that would be what I am talking about! From what the journey itself will bring to me, down to what the wait person will deliver to my table - it’s all part of the excitement and the adventure.

Two weeks without someone asking *me* to do something for them.

[Them]: "Hey, could you possibly pull out your magic wand and make this nasty little annoyance go away for me."

[Me]: "Sure. Just let me attach the harness for this freight train into my teeth…"

Yeah, so none of THAT for TWO WHOLE WEEKS!!

T-minus 8 more days, people …

Polla Filia,
J.F.