Since it now appears that Bill Frist has broken with the president to lead the parade on stem cell research (which I also am for by the way), let's be clear what a great "physician . . . healer" (quoting Dr. Frist, referring to himself repeatedly on television yesterday) or should we say, "doctor" that he is. These are his words below.

“I question it based on a review of the video footage which I spent an hour or so looking at last night in my office. . . She certainly seems to respond to visual stimuli.” Turns out this diagnosis was malpractice. If he were still practicing medicine would he be indicted? In fact, as many who had reviewed the material had said, Terry was in a persistent vegetative state just as all the doctors and judges understood. It's not hard to believe that she had told her husband not to let her live that way. My wife and I have had that conversation. Congratulations to her husband for keeping his promises to her. [Okay, I can't resist. Don't you find it ironic that Terry was living on a mal-practice award of the type that has now been eliminated by the Republican congress. In today's new world there would have been no money to sustain her and she'd have been dead long, long before.]

Why was Frist involved? He was simply running to the front of a public opinion parade. He wanted to hold the banner. Turns out, the vision center of her brain was long since dead. She could not see.

What kind of leader is Bill Frist? What kind of physician makes medical judgements about a patient based on videotape?

Tom Delay's position about the resolution of things was to make threats towards the judiciary: “We will look at an arrogant, out-of-control, unaccountable judiciary that thumbed their nose at Congress and the president.” No body has mentioned that when Mr. Delay's father was being sustained on life-support that he participated in the decision to remove the life-support. You know, being able to let people die when they are at the end of their life is part of being an adult. Keeping them breathing is not for them, it's for you. When people are at the end of their lives, the adults around them should not be thinking about themselves but about the loved one, who is already shaking hands with the saints. We let them go on where we are sure to follow.

It's not about God, folks. He/She can take care of Him/Herself. It's about politics and power and greedily taking the people's money, their land, their future, and their happiness. . . taking their inalienable rights.

Yesterday was an amazing day in the garage! My friend Ralph and I attacked the clutter by hanging things on the wall and out of the way, four ladders, a pair of saw horses, and three racks to hold lawn and garden and household tools. In addition we built a 2 foot by 8 foot peg board and hung it under some of the ladders, creating a space for tools and now I can easily find every screwdriver and hammer, knife or saw! The result was that the garage looks organized and empty, even with the golden golf cart and the McIntosh green Vue parked in there.

We are in that nightmarish time of year when preparation for the school year begins to weigh on teachers minds. Although we like our jobs, we like being off more. School starts for the faculty on Monday morning. At present, nothing is in the chorus room, bare floors and walls, and nothing can be moved in. The air conditioning in disconnected. Only the outside exit door is accesible to students. Mold is growing on the floor and on the risers. Nothing can be moved in until the floors are cleaned. But hey the cafeteria is in worse condition. No floor, no ceiling, no lights, no power, unfinished walls, and apparaently no worry for the contractor, who is hardly working in that area. It will be interesting to see what happens.

Say did you see that Bill Frist is now for stem cell research. I guess this begins his official run for the white house. AND he is affirming his long held position backing stem cell research. He's not flip flopping on the issues mind you, rather, he was always for stem cell research. What a bunch of bull. He sees the ground swell running away from the position that he has been advocating for the past 4 years or so, so he is running around to get in the front of that position and claiming it was always his. On television this morning he repeatedly called himself a "physician" and a "healer." There was nothing in his interview that called for those words. He never referred to himself as a medical doctor. Medical doctors are secular people. Physicians and healers are mystical, spiritual figures. He had his talking points and he stuck to them. Listen conservative right wing Christians! I'm your guy. I'm Nancy Reagan's guy. I'm Arlen Spector's guy.
Isn't it odd when the parctical evidence overwhelms the religious point of view then the religious point of view has to change. Political leaders want to catch the top of the wave on these direction shifts so they appear to be out front. Bill Frist is evil.

Pretty soon he'll have always been for ending the war in Iraq and bringing our soldiers home. (Gagging noises offstage).

Our last day in San Francisco (last Sunday) we started off on the F line (vintage electric trolleys) and rode around to pier 39. Our car was from Millan, Italy and very nifty looking. Pier 39 was way more fun than I had expected. Yes we saw the sea lions. The shopping was cool and we bought a couple of hand colored prints of victorian houses and had them shipped home. They are supposed to arrive on Monday. We finished our souvenir shopping, got some photos of Alcatraz Island, saw some spectacular photos in an exhibit by Rodney Lough, who happened to be there and who talked with me about photography for awhile. It was hard not to purchase one of his $1000 photographs, but Mrs. G dragged me away. He may be opening a store in Perimeter Mall, in which case, the temptation will renew itself soon.

In the afternoon we decided to climb telegraph hill. We attacked it ferociously and soon were at the top. It must be 3 to 4 hundred stairs to the top. Whew. The wait to for the elevator to the top of the Coit Tower looked to be more than an hour and we passed on that. Then of course we had to come back down. We had dinner at Max's on the Square (Union Square), which turned out to be a good choice. The food was good. Then we went back to the Chancellor to repack all our stuff to get ready for the flight home on Monday. The airport was reasonable to negotiate and the flight was pleasant, though long. We lost three hours coming back and even though the week has passed, I'm still a bit jet lagged.

Today Carter and Kent came down for lunch and I cooked out burgers. We looked at many of the 500 photos I took on the trip.

Peachtree City was ranked by Money Magazine as the 8th best place to live in the United States. Wow. And I live there.

Walking down from the falls one morning at 6:30, I was able to shoot the sun peeking over the edge of the mountains. You wouldn't believe how the misquitos swarmed at that time. A group of photographers went together to take these early morning trek with a guide from Kodak. We were standing in a meadow of waist high grass. Several more photos from the morning follow: sun thru the pines, the only church in the valley, built in 1879, the sunlight on Yosemite creek, and another shot of the falls.

Sarah asked for a photo. This photo publishing is a new thing for me and wouldn't work at all on my lap top, which seems to have some problems in its operating system. Anyway I have switched to Mrs. G's computer and uploaded my first photo. This turned out to be a spectacular shot. I wish I knew how I did it. It was taken in the viewing area for the lower falls, a short trail off the trail to the lower falls. Not many people ventured down this way and it was a pleasant place to sit and look at this 2400 foot drop, unusually full for summer. As we flew out we passed over Yosemite again and noticed substantial snow packs on most of the high mountains.

Day seven:

We "wasted" most of the day stuck in California traffic jams. There were many and they were inexplicable. California drivers aren't the best. If anyone pulls off the road, they stop and look at them. They cut one another off in traffic and cut in line if at all possible. They could all use a dash of southern hospitality.

We had another fine breakfast at the Groveland this morning. People were talking about the high water at Yosemite this year and what a great show it is, so we were lucky to see that in July. I learned that many old West characters have probably stayed at the Groveland, including Black Bart. Also learned that "Lyle" haunts one room of the place and the lights continually go off and on in that room. We were across the hall and saw no sign. The innkeeper said that oriental people will not stay in the room. Hmmm.

The drive back over the Priest grade was scarey once again, this time going downhill in bright sunlight. Most of the grade had to be negotiated in first or second gear at speeds below 20 mph. No, I'm not kidding. Cutting across middle California to the coast was totally annoying as we stretched what people varyingly called a two and one half to four hour drive into five and one half hours to reach Santa Cruz and California highway 1. The coast drive was spectacular. We stopped at numerous overlooks, but like San Francisco itself, these beaches were cold, windy, and fog was rolling across most of them keeping visibility to a minimum. Nevertheless, the hardy were there at the state park beaches, surfing in their wet suits on an almost placid sea. The surfers were patient. Beach combing attire was long pants and hooded sweatshirts, temps in the 60's with a cold wind. There were crowds at Pescadero Beach and Half Moon Bay.

Some odds and ends comments. As much as San Francisco is made for walking, and it is totally, with the name of every street engraved in the sidewalk at every corner, pedestrian traffic signals that count down, 10, 9, 8, 7, etc., as your green light wanes away, and lights that stop all traffic at busy intersections so pedestrians may walk in all directions at once, the signage for driving is not the best. The sign may say right lane this and left lane that, but when you get to the intersection, there are lanes going three directions! This happened more than once! Fast food places are few and far between, gas stations are hidden. We got off the expressway four intersections in a row to find gas at any price. And I have paid 2.69 for gas out here! Then the gas pumps don't half work: this pump is broken, that card swiper doesn't work, receipts are a rarity, and the staff couldn't care less, and don't speak English anyway. If a fast food place or gas station has a restroom, and some don't, then it is one small, men/women restroom and it is dirty. There apparently are no signs allowed on highways to direct you to gas, food, or lodging and the highway "blue" signs are hit or miss, or so last second that you pass them before you can read them. As we were searching for gas, we noticed three cars in a row get off the freeway and roll straight across to re-enter, finding nothing at the top of the exit, as we had done after driving around searching. I guess there is a lot of chaos and are a slew of angry drivers on California freeways.

In California you don't have to travel from the mountains to the ocean. They are in the same place. Oddly, to me, there are no beach homes along the coasts, but rather farm land, right up to the edge of the cliffs that plunge into the sea. Mountain ridges run along in front of you and then dive into the ocean, creating fantastic vistas of cliffs, waves crashing on rocks, platoons of pelicans, and scores of nesting birds on outcropped ocean rocks, and even an occasional beach combing person or two. You have to figure if it is freezing on these beaches on July 16, then it is never warm here. We successfully made our way back to the Chancellor hotel and had a fine dinner at Sears Fine Dining. The owner who passed away last year at 108, had recently been on Leno because he was still serving as the host of the place at that age, seating 50 patrons or so per hour. Alas, we just missed him. The wait staff average 20 years of service to the restaurant. Isn't that amazing? I tried the fried cajun catfish (no it wasn't as good as Golden's on the Square in Newnan, but was palatable). The green beans were weird looking but tasty and the french fries a delight. Sissy had a chicken/ceasar salad and tomato lintel soup and declared everything scrumptious. We checked out the people still swarminig around the Harry Potter displays in the entrance of the huge Barnes and Noble next to the Chancellor, but decided to get ours back at home rather than lug another souvenir back home. It will be a struggle for us to get on the air plane to return home for we are loaded with stuff.

Today, Sunday is our last day in town. We are planning to scope out the Coit Tower and Pier 39 and just follow our noses. San Francisco fills with people downtown during the weekends, so there are throngs of interesting people for people watching. I was expecting to see a huge homosexual presence in the town, but if they are here, they are invisible to tourists.

Day six:

I ran out early to meet a group of crazies who were being led by a photographer to photograph some early morning sites, sunrise, etc. We met at 6:30 and I was delighted that he was such a knowledgeable person. Surprisingly he could work everyone’s camera, had great suggestions for exposure, and had great ideas for compositions to photograph. Breakfast followed in the “Food Court” a kind of cafeteria. I had pancakes prepared by a loud crazy cook. Sissy went for eggs. Everything was terrific. We talked some more with the photographer at breakfast. We gathered our things and checked out of the lodge, then went on a ¾ mile walk to the base of Yosemite Falls. I wanted to stay there a long time and we did, taking many photos including clearly the best shots of the trip. It was fun to talk with people at the falls. After a deli sandwich lunch where we watched people feeding various magnificent birds, California jays, woodpeckers, and others, as well as the white collared squirrels, we began our journey away from the valley. I stopped again for final pictures of El Capitan and Cathedral Spires, but we eventually had to get in the car and drive away.

The Groveland Hotel was a welcome sight in the late afternoon and we had a wonderful romantic dinner in the Victorian dining room. The crowd doesn’t arrive until about 7:30 so at 6:30 we had steak and ribs, a wonderful tomato and cucumber salad, and we had the run of the place. The jazz guitarist serenaded us alone. We scored a much bigger room tonight in the front of the hotel, so our windows look out on the front porch. After dinner we walked the town’s wooden sidewalks under the porches of every little shop, including the Iron Door Saloon. Groveland has the feel of an old western town, almost right out of the movies, though the roads are paved. Neither internet, television, nor telephone service has been an option for us now for three days. We hope our world has survived without us. Tomorrow, it’s back to civilization.

Day five:

The Groveland Hotel was built in 1849 and enlarged for the political bigwigs watching over the Hetch Hetchy Dam project in 1914. This reservoir brings water 200 miles to San Francisco. Renovated 15 years ago it is a antique place from the doors to floors, windows and furniture. The innkeeper has 17 rooms and a large staff: housekeepers, bar tender, kitchen staff, wait staff, plus they are running a theater in the back yard several nights a week. (You have to realize that the area has a Mediterranean climate and there is no rain from about mid-April until September or October. In this area, like San Francisco, there are also few bugs. So outdoor theater is a natural.) We had a fabulous innkeeper’s breakfast Thursday morning, stopped for fruit and a cooler at the main street grocery and then began our winding approach to Yosemite. Soon we were in the park and approaching Yosemite Valley (pronounced by some historically as Yo suh Mighty). I had to pull over at vista points time after time as fantastic mountainscapes appeared. Verbal descriptions are useless. Since the Tuolomne Grove Sequoias were on our way we thought we’d stop off there before getting down in the valley. It is a worship experience to walk down to the mile trail through redwoods and enormous Douglas firs in this old growth forest. The firs were majestic enough by themselves, but at last we got down the 10% grade to the grove inhabited by 26 of the planet’s largest and oldest living beings. Some of them are perhaps 30 to 40 feet around at the base and they seem to diminish very little as the tree rises to dizzying heights. The literature says there is more wood in a single giant sequoia than in an acre of pine. The trees rise to 275 feet in height. The lower limbs, far above, are seven feet across, and what looks like fallen trees on the ground around are actually limbs that fell a generation ago. A fallen giant will decay for a century. We viewed one on a trail that fell in the 80’s in a heavy snowstorm, toppled by gravity. It was over 3000 years old. There were many parts to the experience, the smell of the grove, the texture of the bark (it is almost spongy and as much as 2 feet thick), and the mysterious cathedral nature of the height. If you haven’t seen Yosemite in person, you need to get here as soon as you can. Make it a priority. Two days were not nearly enough. A week would have been better. We checked into the Alder lodge of Yosemite Lodge which looks directly at the over 2000 foot drop of Yosemite falls. The spray of water is huge this summer (normally only a trickle this time of year), because of a large snow pack from the winter, and so quite beautiful. As me to show you some of my 150 photos that I took there in just over 24 hours. In the evening, we caught a one woman show in the Yosemite Village Auditorium, a fabulous presentation of the story of a pioneer woman trying to decide whether or not to marry her fourth husband. She buried the first three. More about the park tomorrow.

Day four:
Not our most productive day overall, but it was partially a travel day. First we packed up to check out of the Chancellor and go exploring to other parts of California. Luckily as I checked out I inquired from the little girl at the desk, “Do you know any good place to stay on the way to Yosemite?” She was completely stymied, but like a good employee, she called her boss on the phone. He quickly responded that we should try to get a room at the Groveland Hotel, a bed and breakfast just outside Yosemite and gave me the number. I called and talked with Diane and booked their last room of the night. I felt better knowing I had a final destination for the day. More about Groveland later. I walked over a few blocks to pick up a reserved rental car (a good thing for they were turning away everyone walking up to rent a car without a reservation and there were four rental car companies all side by side. The car is a grand prix, nice, gray, and almost new. It was easy to handle and zoom I was out in San Francisco traffic, which was challenging, dodging cable cars and deciphering the one way street system. It made me nervous, but we were soon zipping over the Golden Gate Bridge, which was totally fogged in and in a few minutes at the Muir Woods National Park to see old growth redwood trees. The weather was sunny, but unrelentingly cool with a cold wind (55 degrees). Muir Woods was a stunning cathedral of nature. I took many photos and it appears that luck was with me and I captured a bit of the place. There were lots of visitors so we took one of the many trails off the main one and left the crowds behind for a majestic walk along the “ocean view” trail. Eventually we turned back when some returning travelers told us the “ocean view” was miles on ahead. Oh well. We had climbed steadily for a mile I guess and we turned back to pick our way down. It was one of the most wonderful walks of a life. Sissy said that the trees seemed to have a spirit that you could sense and that was indeed the case. Muir Woods is an old growth redwood forest and the trees are over two hundred feet tall. Many of the trees we saw were also a thousand years old. They had a fallen tree cut and marked with dates and events back to 909 AD, the year it was a seedling.

After lunch we drove through Napa Valley to see the wine country and then cut across the mountains to Sacramento. The mountain ride passed two mountain lakes made by damming the valleys to create reservoirs between the peaks. The lakes were spectacular, as was the scenery of mountains and trees, an other worldly set of vistas that I felt could not be on the same earth that I have been on all these years.

Once in Sacramento we sped along trying to get to Groveland before dark, but the sun failed me. The last 8 miles to Groveland, called the Priest grade (T-shirts read “I survived the Priest grade.”) was the most exciting driving I have ever done. What a road, winding along the cliffs leading over the mountains to Groveland which was the starting point for the railroad to the Hetch Hetchy water project. Sissy had her eyes closed much of the time and was clutching onto the center of the car. A lot of good that would do her if I rolled her over the edge for it was easily a 1000 foot drop off and climbed higher with every switchback. Breath taking. I finished that drive in the dark which made it even more exciting. The Groveland Hotel was awash with people when we arrived. They had a play going on the back patio, with musicians and lights, plus the Victorian dining room was crowded with diners, serenaded by a jazz guitarist. The Groveland Hotel was established in 1849 and has been used more or less continuously as a hotel since. Our room was marvelously decorated with feather beds which swallowed us up and drained away all the tensions of traveling. The Groveland may be the best find of the tour so far. More about it tomorrow.

Another odd feature of San Francisco is the angry chatter of Chinese women. The older women have this loud, nasal fast-talk. They aren't concerned with who is listening and say their angry talk loudly in public, in shops, on the buses, or in the park. At least they sound angry to me. I think they are confident that the surrounding anglos can't understand them and sometimes I'm sure they are complaining about us in their shops or taking space on their buses.

We're on the move today and I don't know when I can write again. Maybe on Thursday night.

Day three: Tuesday

We started out with breakfast in our hotel room and then went over to Chinatown early. When we discovered where Chinatown actually was, we decided we were close enough to walk over. The buildings are more Chinese looking than I remember Chinatown in New York looking, so that is part of the charm. There were interesting buildings to photograph. (Later when we got back I pulled off all the photos I have taken so far and ran them on the computer and was pleasantly surprised with the results. The photos taken from the plane turned out well. I wonder if I'll be able to match some of the details up with a map. I hope so.) There were bargins and we could not resist. Our packages grew and finally I bought a carry bag to carry all the packages. We enjoyed looking in a glass gallery that had glass vases for two thousand dollars (on sale today for $1000--"How can you pass up such a bargain." I'll admit they were excruciatingly beautiful, but we did not have one shipped to Peachtree City. Our plan was to cable car over to Lombard Street and walk down, figuring that in the morning there would be fewer riders and we'd make it easily. Unfortunately, riding the cable cars is a total scam on the tourists. They never run enough cars to actually pick up the people who want to ride, so halfway to our destination at the transfer from one line to another, we could no longer get a car. Although we walked along the line, no succeeding car would ever stop for us because they were jammed, and the cars were only running about every 30 minutes, so of course they were jammed. Nevertheless, hiking like mountain goats, with several pauses, we eventually arrived at the crookedest street in the world, where hundreds of other tourists were waiting for us. It was cool and we enjoyed walking down. With some metro savvy we made our way to the bus line and rode back near the hotel, about an hour later than we expected to get there, but hey that's the way adventures go. Lunch was at Lori's Diner and was fine. I was pleased with my onion rings, better than average. After a break at the hotel we went shopping in Union Square for a bit, a 3 story Crate and Barrel, a Birkenstocks store, and various shops. We then had to try the F line trolly cars. It was fun, but they too were jammed and hot. Neither the hotels nor the transportation is air conditioned because they just don't ever need it, but it is stuffy on a crowded bus except when the bus is moving with the windows opened.

It is most impressive how many people there are here visiting from Europe. Today we met people from Denmark, Sweden, Germany, and more than anywhere else from France. Tons of Frenchmen. There were also Hispanics, orgin unknown, Japanese and Chinese, and Phillipinos. We actually ran into two carloads of folks from the Phllipine Consulate as they pulled up in their limos to shop.

The F line took us down to City Hall where we got out to walk around. Many more photo ops. City Hall is very fancy and there was a couple inside having photos made in their wedding attire on a grand staircase. I took a few pictures of the Opera House as well. We bused and walked back home in the late afternoon, watched some of the All-Star game and then went out for dessert and shopping at Barnes and Noble. There is a large one next to our hotel.

There is lots of great architecture here and with all the people it is great fun to walk around. I took many photos. We stopped at the Orpheum theater in the theater district and Les Miserables is playing. Perhaps we'll take it in on Sunday if we feel up to it.

We are tired and walked out for awhile so tomorrow's car trip to Muir Woods and Napa Valley will come at the right time. Unfortunately the temperature away from San Francisco will rise from 65 to 95 or 105 tomorrow. Thursday and Friday we'll be in Yosemite. Saturday we'll be over on the coast from Monteray Bay back up to San Francisco. Don't know when we'll have internet access again, but surely by Saturday.

Stay tuned.

Day two:
We went to Sears Fine Dining this morning and had a big breakfast, Belgian waffle, sausage and strawberries for me and a cheese omlet, hash browns, bacon, and wheat toast for Mom.

The Grayline City Tour was illuminating. We circled the town, little Italy (where we'd come back for supper) and Washington Park where 100 or so Chinese seniors were doing their morning Tai Chi in the park, Chinatown. We say the F line which is made up of vintage trollies that run around the town and decided to get on one tomorrow and whisk out to Golden Gate Park. We went up to Twin Peaks which was more or less totally fogged in, meaning there was no view of the bay or ocean, but we had some good views on the way up the hill. We found that Golden Gate is the name of the gap that allows the ocean to come into the bay and the Bridge, which is 1.25 miles and bright orange (the better to be seen in the fog) and the bridge just goes over that gap. We saw the Japanese Tea Garden in GG park, a garden that must take tireless pruning and shaping. Back at Fisherman's wharf we lunched and sat in the sun on the pier before getting on the Blue and Gold to Alcatraz. It is a dark place. The cells are small and closer together than it seems in the movies. I stood in "the hole." I strolled up and down the cellblocks. The bird man of Alcatraz it seems turns out to be a really nasty guy who drove everyone crazy. We walked up to Washington Square in the late afternoon and watched a family with four kids who had come to the park to swing and play. The youngest child was in hilarious striped pajamas (he looked like the cat in the hat). I ended up talking with their dad about local restaurants and he suggested the U. S. Restaurant. It's in little Italy and U.S. stands for Union Sportiva, originally the name of a gym. The food was terrific and we enjoyed meeting Nicolas from Chile and Elana from Venice who were our hostess and server. The place was small and totally local. We took a cable car back to the hotel. This evening we checked out Walgreen's for breakfast things and I took a walk around Union Square as the sun was setting. Then it was time to head back to the room and crash. I'm impressed with the beauty of the vistas, the cramped living style, no yards for most people, the great mass transit running all over the city, the beauty of the local flowers, shrubs, and trees. It's almost another planet.

San Francisco is interesting. We cable carred (sorry) over to Fisherman's wharf. There were interesting things: a submarine docked there, an odd carnival booth museum, lots of food places and tons of tourists. The cable car ride is not as much fun as you might think because you can't see very well from anywhere in the car. There are trolleys running all around, vintage trolley cars from other cities. They say what city they are from--Philadelphia for example--and the date the car was used there, say 1948. The cable car line is interesting with all sorts of oddities, like stopping in the middle of the street to let people off. Cable cars have the right of way in some places and just cruise through intersections. At the end of the line the car drives onto a giant lazy susan and is manually turned around by the employees.

Of course I had heard that San Francisco was hilly and windy, but you have to see it and feel it to believe it. I was taking a photo at Fisherman's wharf and a gust came by and blew me staggering while I was concentrating on the shot. I made an odd purchase, a pastel drawing by a chinese street vendor. It's nice and interesting to look at for more than a minute and it was inexpensive. A little lady in the hotel "tour" shop found out we were taking a greyline tour in the morning and she called and told them to pick us up at the hotel, which they quickly agreed to do. Cool. We are off in the morning for the Deluxe City Tour, a bus tour of the city and then a quick outing to Alcatraz. We have crashed at the hotel right now but are going out for dessert at Sears Fine Foods in a few minutes. Then on to bed since we are three hours ahead of everyone here and pretty pooped out.

Cool, I'm in San Francisco. We have wifi in the hotel and it works. Hurray. We're staying in a little old hotel called the Chancellor. Definitely not a 5 star place, but hey, we're schoolteachers. Our room on the dreaded 13th floor looks out onto Powell Street and the trolley line. I could have had a quiet room in the back, but I wanted to hear the city. It's already been a long day since we got up at 6 and left for the airport at 7:30. Our flight in business class (yea for big seats and special attention from the stewardesses. We took BART from the Airport to the Powell Street Station and walked up the four blocks to our hotel. Not bad at all. However, it is 4:30 Atlanta time and we are tired and hungry. The flight was amazing. Calm, bright, and endless mountains, deserts, glacial looking icepacks, canyons and rivers. I asked the pilot what our visibility was and he said 140 miles.

The place seems a lot like New York with lots of people everywhere and shops and clubs everywhere. We're going to take a cable car to Fisherman's Wharf and check out locations. We have tours arranged for tomorrow. Although the internet said a high of 65 today, it's actually sunny and about 70 ish or a bit more. How can you skip across a continent in 5 hours? Adventure lies ahead.

Random thoughts.

My daughter was 29 years old at 6:20 p.m. last night. I remember so clearly waiting for her to be born and having the nurse bring me the news. No, fathers didn't get to go in at that time. That came later.

Surely it is hot water showers that makes us feel like kings in our castles as much as anything ever could. I'll bet Henry VIII never had as nice a shower as I get every morning.

Cruising the town in the yellow golf cart, now adorned with four American flags, continues to be fun. Chick-fil-a icecream is a must stop. We pass friends and stop and talk. When we ask where they are going, why just out for a ride, the same as us. And they have lived here forever.

Sissy has made up batches of chili and frozen portions in the freezer so I can nuke me a chili dog whenever I want. Boy they are as good as Varsity dogs. mmmm mmmmm.

War of the worlds got a B in the Atlanta paper. They said it slowed down in the second half and had a sappy ending. No way. The reviewers have been at their jobs too long and are burned out. It was mega scarey fun, tense and exploding right to the very end. Those bacteria are dangerous. Dakota Fanning is a total charmer. I think we may get to watch her for the rest of my life anyway. Her interview on the talk shows have been mesmerizing. What a charming and brilliant child. She is 11 and she outshown cruise and Tim Robbins I thought. At least a nomination for best supporting actress please, academy.

I'm reading a history of early America, the Vineyard of Liberty, James MacGregor Burns. When the European settlers came to America the Indians spoke 2000 separate and distinct languages, no cognate words, no understanding from one tribe to another. That's 40 distinct languages per each state in the country today. How could that be? Three thousand people with their own language and culture, unrelated to any of their neighbors. They had different religions, music, art, magics, traditions, personalities, methods of making a living. It boggles my mind.