Finally

After seventeen straight nights spent in beds that aren’t mine I’m finally on a commercial aircraft that’s making its way to the Bay and as glorious and special and electric as New York City and London are I cannot wait to be reunited with Bevan and our dogs in our cozy little casa in the Castro.

Speaking of Bevan, he flew away for a funeral in Long Beach yesterday morning and won’t be back until tomorrow so I’ve decided that if I land I’m gonna take a Lyft home, cuddle the heck out of Buddy and Ellie, take them to the park, go for a run and put on a face mask to wear while watching A Star Is Born before meeting Ross and Phoebe somewhere swank for dinner.

Then, after I wake tomorrow morning, I’m gonna slow-stroll down the street to my neighborhood coffee spot with a podcast in my ears, order a mammoth iced coffee and sit on a bench outside scoping all my peeps walking by.

Doesn’t that sound like perfection?

I know.

I can’t wait.

P.S. I should note that I am quite grateful for the trip I just took. Not only did I get to spend a lotta time with a lotta people that I adore, it was a nice change of pace to be totally focused on something other than what’s in my head for a spell. So thank you, work job, for tossing me out into the world.

A Near Miss

I stopped to watch Giant Bubble Guy make giant bubbles on my way home from work tonight when I was very nearly maimed by a moving vehicle.

The Matchbox variety.

The furry-hooded child in the GIF above wanted to pop that giant bubble so damn badly that he blindly launched a die-cast metal truck straight into the air in the middle of one of London’s busiest walkways during rush hour.

And it worked!

Hat tip to you, kiddo.

Following the near-miss, Giant Bubble Guy paused making giant bubbles to share some advice with the throng of bubble-gripped children around him: “Remember kids, what goes up must come down. That includes toys.”

The Gilsey House

While it’s a nifty thing that I can see the top of the Empire State Building from the bed in my hotel room, the building below it in the photo above is actually pretty noteworthy in its own right. Today it’s an expensive 40-unit co-op called the Gilsey House but according to Google it opened its doors in 1872 as a 300-room hotel. Mark Twain and Oscar Wilde stayed there. Also, it was the first hotel in New York City to offer telephone use to its guests.

As I lie here attempting to fall asleep amid the noise and the haste of this great city I can’t help but feel a bit tickled at the thought that some years ago writers whose words I admire very much may have been doing the same thing on the other side of one of those windows just across the street.

So It Begins

I’m several hours into a 17-day work trip that will, if all goes according to plan, have me in New York City for the next six days and London for the eleven that follow then back to The Bay just in time to miss Bevan’s 64th.

Although job things will likely dominate the majority of my next two point five weeks I have hopes of breaking bread with faraway friends, seeing a show or two and, if my schedule permits, popping to Paris for a day.

I hadn’t planned to drink on this flight but it got delayed a couple of times and Alaska Airlines plopped me into first and it’s a bit bumpy above my country at the moment so a free, heart healthy glass of Cab I shall have!

Note: The photo above is for Maureen, if she’s reading, ‘cause, you know.