Today Was a Good Day

I woke up early and by accident but I'd slept soundly and so I felt rested and almost immediately I reached over to my nightstand, retrieved my phone and dialed Kelly on FaceTime and for the next hour and twelve minutes we caught up on everything that had happened in the two days since we'd last chatted with one another and when Harrison woke up from his nap we danced a little bit and chased Tucker a little bit and then he said "momma" on purpose a few times (Harrison, not Tucker) and then we said our goodbyes and I hung up and got out of bed and laced up both of my grey and Volt Nike Lunarspeed+ running shoes and Bevan, Sid and I joined several dozen Bay Area homosexuals in Golden Gate Park for a misty trot through the trails and the trees and afterwards we made breakfast at home and ate it with the newspaper and then drove to South Beach to walk through the office space I'm currently working on and then they went off for haircuts and I went back home to make the bed and FaceTime Kari who I hadn't spoken with in far too long and then I took a BART train to Berkeley where I ate a salmon sushi burrito from Sushi Secrets on Shattuck Avenue and spent a great long time browsing the shelves at Half Price Books, my favorite West Coast bookstore, before purchasing Fun Home, a graphic novel by Alison Bechdel, and A Separate Peace by John Knowles, which I began to read over a beef slider and the most stellar tater tots on this whole earth from Phil's Sliders, which had the following lovely story tacked up onto its wall.

A STORY ABOUT PHIL

I was 12 years old and my parents Phil and Hadele were hosting one of their many parties; our big but never big enough formal dining room table crowded knee-to-knee with adults. I was sitting next to my dad, and sitting next to me was a foreign exchange student who had been brought to the party by one of my parents' friends. She was maybe 21, the only other "kid" at the table besides me, and barely spoke a word of English. In fact, she was so quiet, looking down at her plate the whole time, it seemed like she was trying to disappear altogether. Midway through the meal, as she was reaching for a bread roll, she accidentally knocked over her glass of red wine onto the white tablecloth, the stain quickly spreading across the fabric. Everyone froze, except my father. Barely pausing between bites, my dad casually backhanded his own wine glass onto the table. Laughter filled the room and I could tell that the exchange student was relieved.

I've never forgotten that moment...

In this moment my belly feels very full from too many homemade steamed mussels, my legs feel sore from running and also from Trainer Tim's impromptu massage and B is asleep next to me and is kind of snoring a lot and today was a good day.