AZ@KC

When that’s the televised early game in your area, what are you going to do?  In my case, its blather on the blog as opposed to watching that likely blowout. Plus, SB2 has one TV tied up with Shrek and the wife is holding the master bedroom hostage.

It is tough to figure out where to start when life is as fascinating as mine is.  Let’s go back a couple weeks.  My godson, son of Wig, father of Franklin the Dachshund, recently had his 30th birthday.  His dad ordered some goodies from Total Wine in San Mateo, which I picked up and my wife delivered.  Included was a 30-year cognac, so we hopped on the bandwagon and gave the kid a 30-year port.  He was very appreciative and said we should get together soon.  I had to break it to him that I only hang with people in their 20s.

Oh, I kid.  Maybe I’ll take him and his distaff side to Saratoga, a new SF hot spot in the heart of the Tenderloin, the neighborhood I’m always the most comfortable in.  We went there last night with the Banker and his wife and another FC couple.  We had an 8:30 reservation.  Holy shit, that’s past my bedtime, but I made it work.  Beforehand, we were treated to cocktails and appetizers on the 42nd floor of the Banker’s SF abode.  They’ve been living in SF for several months while their house is being remodeled.  They had to wangle their way for access to the top, since only the uppermost floors are supposed to be able to hang there.  But they have pull.

We all enjoyed Saratoga.  Their drinks menu is much larger than their food menu, but in the day and age of the artisanal cocktail, that is to be expected.  I had the half chicken, which was deboned and roasted to perfection.  All the sides we shared were quite good as well.  Sated, we were swept back to the Banker’s apartment in a black Escalade from Uber.  My wife and I then took a short walk to Harrison and Main where we had parked.  That neighborhood is absolutely nothing like it was when I was living in the big city back in the 80s.  I don’t recall heading too far South of Market often in those days.

So, has Trump been up to anything?  His post-election news conference was a doozy and he was nasty as hell on his way out the door to Paris.  He could not make a WW1 memorial this weekend because of the rain.  That wimp just didn’t want his hairdo to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.  He does have a lot on his plate, but it is hard to plow through it when you have blocks of “executive time” to eat cheeseburgers in bed while watching Fox News.  Since Zinke is on his way out, they recently held a brainstorming session in the Oval Office to come up with some possible replacements.  Trump shouted out “How about the Birdman of Alcatraz”, but the staff had to inform him he wasn’t available.

So, Trump makes me want to puke but it was put in perspective for me when I was reading a recent Maureen Down column, in which she chatted with Adam McKay about his new movie Vice.  This is what he said:

“Here’s the question,” he said. “Would you rather have a professional assassin after you or a frothing maniac with a meat cleaver? I’d rather have a maniac with a meat cleaver after me, so I think Cheney is way worse.”

I would have to agree.

In closing, I’d like to take a quick poll of my readership.  Have any of you been gaslighted and doxxed in the same day?