750, 25, 3, 2, 1

750th Home Run
#25 - Barry Bonds
3 good friends
2 hot dogs
1st time at a Major League Baseball game for Lee O'Brien

Last night I saw Barry Bonds hit home run 750 against the Arizona Diamondbacks. It was my first time in AT&T park, and it's quite an amazing place. Big slide for the kids in a giant Coke bottle, miniaturized version of the park for whiffle ball, water jets that spout off when a home run sails the wall, more food than you can imagine, and some pretty ridiculous views of the bay.

My cousin Eric is in town and it was my friends Lee and Bart's last night in town. I was able to grab the agency tickets and off we went. We got there a bit early and saw a bit of batting practice. Lee was amazed by the whole scene. The grass, the size of the place etc. I was amazed by the overpowering smell of the garlic fries.

Many of us got official hats. Another indicator that I'm old reared it's ugly head. I started working the bill of mine into a perfect curve. My 18yo cousin was working to keep his perfectly straight.

I have to admit, I'm a little torn. I'm a lifelong Red Sox fan. But the Giants are my local team. I think I can follow both though. One's American league, one's National. The Sox lead all of baseball. The Giants are way out of the wildcard race before the All-Star break.

Yep, pretty soon this will be my city.

SF Profile #1 - Ghetto Blaster Guy

This morning I was making my usual walk to work. A walk that takes me right by Washington Square Park. In the park are a lot of morning regulars. There's the group of old Asian men who solve the world's problems quite fiercely. There's the group that does what appears to be a sword based Tai Chi. There's also a larger group that does regular, as in non weapon aided, Tai Chi. Then there are several folks who are practicing on their own. There was also a woman doing Yoga who I had not seen there before. She was also getting her picture taken rather professionally so I think it was for show.

As I got about halfway up the side of the park, I noticed a guy across the intersection with a pretty good size ghetto blaster. And as I got to the corner, I could hear the bass enhanced thump of his speakers while we waited for the traffic to stop. It eventually did and right after we passed each other, he did a very interesting thing. He turned off his beats.

I looked back and it seemed as if he was turning them off for his walk by the park. He was looking over and taking in the scene as he went by. It was fascinating. Here was a guy about the size of Radio Raheem, albeit with a smaller ghetto blaster, who knew his beats were the wrong energy for the park.

It's amazing how considerate of others the mentality here can be. Now this does not apply to personal space as you will brush shoulders with just about everyone on the sidewalk. But hey, I was impressed.

Of course, his 8 D batteries might have just given out at that very moment, but I'm going to choose to believe I heard the click of a stop button.

Guest entry from J-Bizzy

Visitor #1 here. The past fews days have been a blast... great food, company, scenery, and exercise... yes, exercise. Uphill both ways is no exaggeration. Eamon's apartment happens to sit just above God's throne... and I have a slight gimp in my leg after hiking to and from his scenic space atop Russian Hill.

For those of you who haven't been here, it's a really cool place. And pretty laid-back for such an urban area. Last night we had the "best burger in San Francisco" at Mo's, which seems like it's pretty accurate and might extend throughout the west coast. Quite tasty. Although I don't know if I needed to finish the 98 oz chocolate shake that we all had to have after seeing Eamon's delivered.

All-in-all... very good times. But I must confess, my biggest internal joy is watching Eamon have to take the Mini (or Juju) out amongst the city and see the look on his face as he parks so close to other cars. I don't know if others have shared the experience of walking 4 miles across a North Carolina parking lot with E because "my baby needs her space".... but those of you that have might chuckle picturing my man having to squeeze here into a tiny urban parking spot beside would be door-dingers.... or better yet, parallel park her ON THE STREET.

Priceless.

Everything old is new again.

This is a sort of the mantra in the advertising world. Everything has been done. You've just got to make it new all over again. Sometimes I believe it. Sometimes I put a stake through its trite little heart.

But, this little bit of language was very true this past weekend. Visitor #1 to SF is none other than the great Joel Bowers. It's been fun to share with him the things that made me go, "oh, wow," and then watch his reaction.

Lee and Tiffany O'Brien are also out here. Lee for a conference. Tiffany for shopping. At one point, they suggested we meet up at a Tiki Bar on the corner of Broadway and Stockton. Turns out, that's Chinatown. Joel and I had a great laugh standing smack in the middle of Chinatown trying to find a Tiki Bar. We couldn't be sure it wasn't there as I have no idea what the Chinese characters for "Bamboo Hut" look like. Turns out it was several blocks down next to the all nude strip clubs. The Hut was shady. We went elsewhere.

Joel also introduced me to Eric and Christine Strohl. As it turns out, I worked with Eric back in the Long Haymes Carr days in Winston. Crazy I know. Eric was kind enough to tell me where to find Cheerwine in SF. I was floored. He seemed amused. Now I'm just giddy that my favorite city also has my favorite beverage. Another sign that I just might make it here.

Also, some of the typically endemic agency conundrums seem to be popping up at my new agency. But the new bit is this place actually seems capable of breaking out the holy water and exorcising the little demon bastards. At least they will if I have anything to say about it.

How the heck did I get back in college?

At least that's where all indicators say I am. My furniture is IKEA and made out of particle board. I spend money like it's my job. I walk everywhere. I'm learning a ton about life and nothing about academics. Most of my friends are back home. I'm thinking of buying a mountain bike to get around and it will likely get stolen.

IKEA was a blast this weekend. I got more than one warning just to take a weekday day off rather than brave the weekend but I decided to go on Sunday and as Dads typically hate shopping, Father's day IKEA was quite bearable. Found a bed, dresser and bookshelf that should fill out the room perfectly. The actual shopping was quite interesting because there's a path on the floor that you have to follow to make it through the store. And you basically walk through every possible section. It's like a theme park ride that costs lots of money. Including the lines of people waiting to ride. Forgive me if you already knew this, I was an IKEA virgin.

All of the boxes were delivered yesterday to the new apartment. I was able to get off work early to meet the movers and they were magically there exactly when they said they would be. Once the boxes were in the room, I got ambitious and decided to put some stuff together. The dresser was an absolute pain. Too many moving pieces. The bed was dead easy in comparison. The shelves I put off for next time. They are quite large and will probably need a man at arms to get it done. Besides, after the four hours of bent over construction, my lower back decided to remind me I'm no longer in my 20s.

So, I now have furniture. That's cheap, stylish and disposable. And as one of my co-workers mentioned, it's perfect because if I ever do find a soul mate, it's all going in the trash anyway.

My MINI is GINORMOUS!

Juju arrived yesterday. I had to hike down past Pac Bell park to pick her up and I must admit, that is one gorgeous baseball stadium. The truck that delivered my MINI was not small. 53' was just the trailer. The cab had enough square footage to make most San Franciscans jealous.

Once the car was off the second floor of the trailer, it was time to drive her home. And that's when I realized how gigantic my car truly is. There was a delivery van that couldn't have been more than 4 inches from my left side mirror at one stop light. And there were many more close calls usually involving completely out of control cabs.

Juju and I scaled the steepest hill in SF to get to my building to find that the parking space the corporate housing office bragged about endlessly was basically a shoe box. She said it would be perfect as I'd have two walls all to myself. And as we parted company she casually mentioned I might want to back in. This took me 15 minutes. There's a reason it's perfect for a MINI. Two motorcycles would be too wide.

So, this weekend I realized I really actually do, no it's serious this time, live here. For real. Somehow my subconscious still believed this was all a really sweet vacation. And on Sunday, it kicked in that here is now spelled home. Was a bit of a shock to be truthful.

I have found a place to live. Starting July 1, I'll be residing at 438 Scott Street near Alamo Park. Victorian. Has a garage. Rent will be $1125. One roommate. Projection TV, backyard with a hammock, good sized kitchen. Central to just about all the restaurant and nightlife neighborhoods except North Beach.

This also means this weekend will be the IKEA trip. If a post doesn't come out of that, I'll be sorely disappointed.

The oldest man alive is rollerblading around SF.

Something really weird happens when you find out a San Franciscan's age: they turn out to be much older than you thought. Apartment hunting, I met this 50 year old woman who I swore up and down was 35. She liked going out, had a boyfriend, loved salsa dancing. I can think of several friends who would have hit on her mercilessly.

The potential roommate I’m grabbing a beer with tonight is supposed to be 29. He probably has a hard time getting into the clubs he’s DJ’ing. Last night I met a 37 yo dentist. I definitely have more smile lines than she did.

Now during my apartment search, I haven’t seen even one that’s got a hyperbaric chamber in the bedroom. There are no Juan Ponce’s Fountain of Youth Cafés. Many of the people I’ve met seem to be very into Yoga. The aforementioned dentist recently made a Yoga specific pilgrimage to India.

Or they are lying about their age in some Twilight Zone reverse kinda way. I can’t wait for everyone will take off their masks and reveal their piggy faces. (Speaking of, spotted a Piggly Wiggly shirt in North Beach Friday.)

I’ve been trying to figure out the formula to calculate my age in SF years but so far it’s just made my head hurt. Here it seems you don’t lie about your age, you brag about it.

A pic:

The view from my corporate housing living room.

More pictures coming but the Fountain of Youth I'm enjoying is closing up shop for the evening.

Uphill both ways but without the snow.

Today was the first day at the new job. Dig the agency and there are notable differences from my previous office. For one, no one is panicked. There is no one sitting over creatives' shoulders making sure their very important door hanger is done. It's a bit weird to be honest.

So to the point of the title. My walk to work is uphill both ways. Seriously. When I have grand children I can actually tell them that I had to walk uphill both ways. I might even add snow to the stories. Heck, by then global warming and polluting corporate a-holes may have turned SF into the great frozen tundra.

And who knows, with all this asphalt hiking I might even grow a butt. If I could shift the mini-gut that's started to make an appearance into a gluteus magnificus, all the better. Although, given my proclivity for women and most SF men's penchant for other mens, perhaps developing my posterior is not in my best interests.

But this vertical complaint is truly all in jest. My walk today included the legendary Lombard street twisties. Can't wait for the Mini to get here so I can slalom my way down. If you don't know the legend of Lombard, peep this. Once I got to the bottom, I also had an incredibly scenic view of Coit tower. I know, my life is hard.

My last meal turned out to be Cheerwine. How perfect.

It's official. I now live in California.

I was welcomed by my corporate apartment. Which oddly does not include interweb. In SF. A city that prides itself on being among the most wired. So here I sit in a cafe enjoying a bagel and Odwalla Superfood. Tasty green stuff that I'm convinced only I drink. Mostly because every time I have one, whoever I'm eating with makes a face like a scrunchie and says, "What are you drinking?" Then they taste it. Then they like it. Then they never buy it.

I needed the Superfood to make up for my last meal in NC. Mom made me a wonderful breakfast of eggs, thick cut bacon, love and toast. The vittles fortified my strength when they dropped me off at the airport with my 5 bags of luggage. On my way to the gate, I overpaid for a Cheerwine. I figured it would be the last one I'll see for a few months so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

Little did I know a cherry soda and peanuts would be half my dinner. My plane was a bit late to NY so my layover was short enough to wonder if my bags would make it. They did. I'm grateful for my clean socks and underwear. The rest is clean too, not to worry. But the point: Racing through the airport, I didn't stop for food. My lunch and dinner was a bag of crackers, a bag of cookies, some flat cheerwine and a ginger ale.

We were also late to SF because we had to circle quite a bit. All the while I had to pee quite a bit. And those airline stewards can be bathroom nazis when the plane is on approach. Or more factually, circling endlessly while telling everyone we are on approach.

Arrived at the apartment. No idea where I am. Asked the night guard where to go eat and somehow managed to show up at 4 restaurants as the kitchens were closing.

To make a long story short(er), I wound up with tap water and some granola bars. Made this morning's bagel with cream cheese, basil, tomato and bacon quite delicious. And this morning's Superfood quite necessary. But here I sit. At the corner of Columbus and Newell. I'm now off to see what the rest of the route to work looks like. I can tell you the first part looks like the scary down hill bit of a roller coaster. In Hades. Actually the part below Hades cause this particular "hill" is that damn steep and that damn long.

Twas the night before take-off

It's been a day. My 30th birthday. My friend Heather gets married. And there was much packing to be done. Again.

Woke up bright and not so early. Several friends came to visit last night for a celebration over John burgers (more on these in a later post), Cheerwine and home-made ice cream. We sat on the porch attempting to rock away the pounds we had just earned and enjoyed each others company until the wee hours. It was an odd collection of old school, new school and newest school and it worked perfectly. I truly appreciated the effort of those who drove down just to spend some time.

Back to today. After packing, hanging out with Aunt and cousin, packing some more, hanging out, packing and hanging out, it was time to make my way into the who knows where part of Charlotte for Heath's wedding. She married a wonderful man named Ashley and I laughed more than I should have when the Presbyterian Minister said, "We are gathered here today for the wedding of Heather and Ashley." Being an only child, I'm easily entertained.

As I walked up to the church, I recognized an old college friend named Ivy. She re-introduced me to her husband Brian and told me of her recent bundle of joy. She now has two. We all proceeded inside for the ceremony which of course was lovely. Heather's father, Mr. Massengale, was as proud as ever. Ms. Massengale looked great. As usual.

After the ceremony, it was off to the reception. Ivy saved my skin by talking with me the entire time. I thoroughly enjoyed catching up with her and was struck by the difference in our lives. Her with a new kid. Moving to a bigger house. Married. Me, none of the above. She envied me and my move. A bit of me envied her.

At the reception were four different women that at one point or another, I thought about attempting to date. Of course, I actually dated none. All of them are married. All of me is turning 30 and moving across the country.

When Ashley and Heather appeared, I quickly said my congratulations and goodbyes. I was yearning to be home with the fam. Once I got home, we did what we so often do. Had John burgers for dinner. Sat and watched a movie. I packed. Mom helped even though she didn't want to. John was funny. Mom was supportive. I don't know what the heck I was.

So, this is my last night at the homestead for a while. I plan on being back for the holidays. I should probably book that soon, so I'm not spending truckloads of money.

This post is meandering, but then, that's exactly how I'm feeling right now. As if I'm sort of wandering along meeting up with the guide posts I stuck in the ground many months ago. 6 months ago I said I'd like to be in SF. Soon I will be. And yet somehow I'm still a bit surprised.