I left around 6AM, stars were out, it was cold. My MO for these early morning rides into the city: cup of fresh ginger tea, a bit of power plant in Ploom, the Michael Des Barres program on Sirius radio (for which I thank you, Lew!), iPhone ready for whatever pops up.

This morning as I drove the windy road, I counted 54 lights out in the sea, crab season just opened, and it might be a good one. Neighbor fisherman Todd pulled 35 pots the 1st day, got 700 lbs. dungeness crab (we had fresh crab with 1-hour-old porcini pasta, + my brother’s deep red Syrah wine last night, ahem).

I was driving my Toyota truck (picking up lumber today) when, on a tight turn, a white Porsche, came roaring up behind me, didn’t hesitate, whipped around me with a roar, crossing the double line, baby — you go!

It’s always a thrill to go thru the tunnel and see the Golden GateBridge. This is my bridge; I’ve been to the top of it, and crossed under it in a kayak — and this the city that I love to this day, 81 years later. I start the day with a latte and brioche at Cafe Roma, old-school coffee house in North Beach, spend a few hours writing, editing, blogging, listening to music on earphones before venturing out for the day’s chores.

This was playing as I went through the tunnel:

At the time of this record, 1957-58, I was getting back from 3-month trip through 10 European countries on a Lambretta motorscooter, camping out and staying in youth hostels. Hitchhiking also. In ’58, I was running a newspaper on an Air Force base near Wiesbaden, Germany. I sure didn’t know about this kind of music and dancing in those days. Sheeesh!

https://youtube.com/watch?v=m6iPOtk2izE

https://youtube.com/watch?v=tO0TBiMrCns%3Flist%3DRDtO0TBiMrCns