FLICKR OBAMA -

remember how the obama campaign 

put up candid shots of election night on flickr?

no?

they were amazing.

and now, these, of inaugural night.

i mean,

i have no words.

this makes me feel . . .

hell, like this, all over again:

RE-GROUPING : through a SLANTED DOOR

follow us

through the cold february rain

to the ferry building, on the water,

below the bay bridge,

to the landmark restaurant,

Slanted Door.

for the food,

but more,

for the friends.

for tagliani,

for tim,

for evie,

for i

for the people who know you may look like this in some pictures,

but you're like THIS in real life:

the shaking beef ain't bad either.

the ASTON MARTIN V8 VOLANTE - a love story, two years in the making

another high point of the s.f. trip?

seeing, for the first time in two years,

the ridiculous car i bought in order to restore.

a word to the wise.

it does not matter if the car is found in minnesota,

and is a third of the price anywhere else,

but in "good condition".

that is code for:

you know what?  give it up.  it's in the shop until we say so.

but look at her now:

she's a 1984 aston martin v8 volante.

that's british for "ridiculously hard to maintain hand-built rocket".

so who knows if i'll even be able to afford to keep this toy.

or if i SHOULD.

those are matters i will face after i get her to l.a.

and drive her at least ONCE down santa monica boulevard,

top down,

on a sunny day.

because this is not a car you have to cart the dogs around.

or grocery shop.

or . . . well, almost anything.

but,

for awhile,

i'll be able to call her mine.

it's like any great love affair.

you should be able to enjoy it while it lasts,

and look back without regret.

and not try to predict it.

the extra credit pop quiz :

for those of you struggling with you grades,

i give you this easy one.

where did we go for brunch?

ok.

last clue, then pencils DOWN.

get thee to GITANE :

ah, how sweet.

a weekend escapade.

running away to s.f. to see evie,

and try out her favorite new haunts.

first, a stopover to snuggle with mochi.

then, she led us down a dark alley . . .

not for the first time, by the way.

where we ended up at Gitane,

a little restaurant/bistro/boite,

with levels and secrets behind it's facade

that we couldn't have predicted.

the food was wonderful.

french/moroccan/californian

(you know how the west coasters love their fusion)

but the space was tiny,

romantic in a way i hadn't seen in quite some time

yet very modern.

about half way through the meal

it clicked how to describe the space, the meal, the experience.

if you were the person who was going to get married in mcqueen,

and only invite your sister, your best friend, your ex-lover, your current muse,

your producer, your portraitist, and your dog-walker,

and you believed in malcolm betts over tiffany any day . . . 

Gitane is where you would be married.

perhaps someday . . .