For the third consecutive day San Francisco is as hot as George Clooney in the hallucination scene from Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity, so B, Sid, the dogs and I are planning to ditch our upstairs bedrooms tonight in favor of a campout in the main floor living room where it’s a much more tolerable O Brother, Where Art Thou? on the George Clooney Movie Hotness Scale.
Warming jeans in the dryer before heading out into a cold, rainy morning.
First of all, after a full day of riding in cars and on trains we are finally on an airplane that will (hopefully) deliver us safely from O'Hare to San José.
And secondly, as I walked aboard this aircraft a few minutes ago holding a clear plastic cup of red wine from a bar in the airport food court the flight attendant manning the airplane door asked "Is that red wine?" and I responded "Uh huh." and then she said "I didn't think airports were allowed to do that." and then I said absolutely nothing because I was busy guzzling my plastic cup of red wine before she could take it away from me.
After nearly a full week of rain the sun finally showed up in San Francisco this morning and nobody's more happy about it than these two beauties.
Due to the hugely nonexistent amount of snow on the ground tonight, I thought it would be a lotta bit joyful to look back on the days of yesteryear when Global Warming hadn't yet destroyed our priceless planet.
This particular clip is from last winter's "Blizzard 2006" in New York City.