August 24, 2009

I am out in Cali and staying in the Mission in SF, which is of course the epicenter of things Mexican in these parts and so a damned fine place to be in all respects.

Great food in all directions and all varieties, perhaps most especially the fried and the pork varieties.

And music everywhere, wandering musicians who come into bars--mariachis, accordionists with bajo players in tow, the works. Hard to complain.

The only bad part is that I am actually working all the time so not getting to enjoy it or explore it all nearly enough.

I am staying with a friend who has his hand in a lot of things, one of which is a superior
bar down the street.

Having a friend with a bar down the street is not a bad way to go. It is kind of like having a living room down the street filled with a constant party and a full array of drinks with people to serve them to you. Exactly like that, in fact.

Though it was all seeming a bit less fun last night when a disgruntled drunk who had been rousted earlier in the evening for grabbing a bartender and generally being an asshole came back at 3 am and hurled a paving stone through the window.

We didn't finish boarding the thing up until quarter to five. That kind of stomps on your buzz.

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