No Flowers in My Hair … Yet

SAN FRANCISCO – After a few delays I arrived safely in the City by the Bay. First Larry and I had to detour around an accident on 91 North. Then we encountered a massive backup from the other direction because another crash on 84 West, which backed up traffic on 91. He had to detour around it on the way home.

The flight from Hartford to Denver on Southwest was uneventful but really noisy with a couple of crying babies and a bunch of loud talkers. I plugged in my iPod and let Coltrane and Mingus and Sonny Rollins drown out the racket. I sat next to a young woman who was meeting a friend in Salt Lake City. She played games on her iPhone and filled an actual paper book with answers to word games. Also said it was the first Southwest flight she’d been on where the crew didn’t crack jokes. When we landed I grabbed my stuff and ran because I thought I’d only have a half hour between flights. Got to the board to check the gate and discovered the flight had been delayed for almost two hours. We didn’t find out until we finally boarded that the cause was thunderstorms and hail in San Francisco, which is apparently very unusual for this area at this time of year. Of course coming from Connecticut, where we broke heat records with a temp of 99 on Wednesday, I was not the least bit surprised. Then I learned from Anna today that the area around the Denver airport had tornadoes and hail on Wednesday. So, wacky weather all around.

The second leg of the flight was a bit more rocky, because of the Rockies and the crew put on a show. After the plane did a brief shudder, the pilot said, “Would whoever is shaking the plane please stop it.” The female flight attendant, a young black woman with a blond Afro, teased her very large partner, asking the passengers if he looked like Denzel Washington. He didn’t but he said better. Then he came on the intercom and asked if we’d seen her hair, and then said, “Ch-ch-chia!” There was a gasp from the passengers.

Ashley was waiting when I arrived and we zipped through rush hour traffic, a great feat in this part of the world, to the Hyatt, which is gorgeous. Here’s the view.

Room With a View

My room looks out on the a piece of the Bay and while I was watching a piece of the global economy floated past – a giant container ship, loaded almost to the with cargo bearing the name Yang Ming.

When I step out of my room, I look down on the lobby through rows and rows of LEDs suspended from the ceiling with the Tiffany looking elevators floating up and down across the opening.

Ash went to run an errand and I called Larry, unpacked, talked to my friend Lucey. Ash picked me up again and we zipped through more rush hour to meet Kathryn at the taqueria in the Mission where we had lunch last fall and then came back to the hotel for a nightcap. Kathryn had a gimlet made with a very special gin and Ash and I had French Ginger Lemonade made from Grey Goose, ginger liqueur lemonade. I was not impressed. It tasted watery and contained a nasty surprise of undissolved sugar at the bottom, the result of insufficient stirring. At that point my body clock was telling me it was bedtime, so I trundled off. It is now 6:30 and the sun is coming up – gorgeous.

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