The Marina & Fisherman's Wharf
Ruby the Pizza Guy
Among the emails, phone calls, and notes congratulating us after my younger son, Reuben, was born was one from one of my oldest friends from San Francisco, asking if I had named him “after the pizza guy.” Reuben was named after my wife’s grandmother Ruth. But after he was born, and as we began to call him Ruby, I found myself thinking more about “the pizza guy.”
The Rainbow Lady of Fisherman’s Wharf
Everything was closed for the holiday. I lived right off Union Street and I was amazed how quiet San Francisco could be. I was crossing a totally deserted street when, out of nowhere, a white Porsche came zooming and barely missed me and caused me to fall down. The guy pulled over and got out and he was real apologetic— and just gorgeous! He said, “Well the least I can do after knocking you off your feet is take you out to dinner.”
Pier 39, K Docks
Glossy, brown, and whiskered, blubber and bark,
I left my heart with the sea lions
who fight and snuggle on their piers,
some flipper to flank looking almost like love
while alpha males galumph and butt
their rivals from their comfy berths.
The Joy of Life
I have this compulsive need to catalog things. I want to make lists – gather the essence, the names of things together in one systematic collection, which will then constitute a whole in itself. All the books I’ve ever read, movies I’ve seen, girls I fell for, shitty things that happened to me.
It’s my way of not letting go – my attempt to hold onto the past.
Searching for Wayne
The world may have given up on him, but I haven’t.
Why on earth should I care what might have happened to him? Callous as it may sound, so what if the cretin is six feet under, as most suspect he probably is? The ideal epitaph for him would read: “Serves him right.”
Down in the Dandy-Hole: The Dusk of the Buggers
Jack followed the kid through the twilight haze. The nape of the kid’s neck winked from under his wool collar. Jack was not right, had not been right for so long that he was starting to forget what it felt like. He had found the root, but he could not dig it up, and so it grew longer, prying deeper as time went on. The two figures moved swiftly. Above them, stars and fog curled together like fingers on a bit of gold.