It was that spiritual sports time when I could enjoy the ball park sacraments of dog and brew and listen to the players’ chatter accompanied by the stadium music of the pop of the glove and the crack of the bat
It was that spiritual sports time when I could enjoy the ball park sacraments of dog and brew and listen to the players’ chatter accompanied by the stadium music of the pop of the glove and the crack of the bat
On a winter night in the 1970’s, Ross Alley was a dark, dank place pocked with ruts and potholes filled with rainwater that reflected the few dim lights in its close confines. Here the bustle of Chinatown was muted
My San Francisco is a series of posts that describe my own personal relationship with The City. My San Francisco posts might be photo essays or life stories or commentaries or a combination of some or all three. They might not always be flattering but they all have one thing in common; they are my …
My San Francisco is a series of posts that describes my own personal relationship with The City. My San Francisco pieces might be photo essays; they might be life stories or they could be commentaries. They might be a combination of some or all three. My impressions won’t necessarily be paeans to San Francisco; it’s …
I get myself out of bed early, tell my dog Lexi “time to get up” and we head out to find boats at sunrise.
The Life in My Years 