Fog City

Good morning. It's Monday. The sky is overcast and light showers are dampening the sidewalks and asphalt. That indescribable aroma of warm, moist concrete is wafting upwards. I think of it as the smell of humidity, if that's even possible. I'd like to briefly recap a couple of noteworthy experiences. Of course you probably know, the Bluegrass Music Fest was nearby in Golden Gate Park. Friday morning before the constant wave of humanity converged, the music was free after all, I walked over to hear an old crony.  Charlie Musselwhite was opening the proceedings and his classic blues style is always a treat. We had been emailing in the past about Hepatitis C. We shared medical information, treatments, resources, and side affects, and what to expect and dealing with the slow moving disease. Charlie like most of our ilk sings and lives the blues.
    Saturday was different. I was surprised by an unexpected musical performance. A preface; As a retired (euphemism for lazy) person I choose not to be serious or productive every waking hour. Consequently I've latched onto a couple of trivial melodramas on the evening TV schedule. House is one of them. Well I was delightfully stunned to find out Hugh Laurie is an accomplished musician. The night before I saw him live in the park, PBS had a Great Performances episode of he and his band playing in New Orleans. Inspiring indeed. But Saturday I was drawn out-of-doors, not only by Hugh, but some fine young family members, Lisa from LA, Isaiah, new to this world, and the effervescent Danny and Teresa. We wove our way into the throngs for a comfortable spot. The company was spot on, and Laurie played a set resembling quite closely his PBS special. A fine time.
    Sunday my focus and energy shifted completely. It was time for serious golf. You ask, how can golf be serious? Well, you gather most of your club members, drive to a neutral course, with a higher degree of difficulty, and offer a distinct prize. Yes a serious competition. We played in the bucolic Sonoma Valley, an hour North of the City. It was a beautiful day, partly sunny, and temperatures in the mid 70s. The tree lined course was in remarkable shape. Excellent for scoring or not. The only noticeable distraction was the murders of crows inundating the idyllic environs. If they weren't thieving sandwiches from the carts, they would dance on the limbs above us cawing their hysterical laughter. Back to the prize if you please. The low four scores would form a 4-man team and compete against all the other NorCal  teams, in Monterey, at the renowned Poppy Hills Golf Club. In case you are wondering, I did play rather well and fortunately qualified to be on the team. So I'm quite pleased.