Went out last night to zazu. Drank a lot of pinot, ate a lot of gourmet pizza, made a lot of noise until they kicked us out at 10.

I met up with Abe and Kathleen on Sunday, both of them friends from grad school in Chapel Hill, and had a nice time touring around the city. We rode on a cable car, which is something I hadn’t done since I was around 13 visiting San Francisco with my dad.

What’s that, a picture you ask? Well, unfortunately it was kind of misty on Sunday and I left my camera behind, but allow me to offer this aforementioned glimpse back in time.

I love the big hair! It’s like my face was still growing into it.

In fact the cable car trip took just long enough that we didn’t have time to visit the SFMOMA (our intended destination). Oh well, next time. As a consolation prize, we spent some time in the gift shop, which has many nice things, including modern furniture, and perhaps most captivatingly, a video of a Rube Goldberg-esque contraption that captured our attention for minutes!

For dinner we went to the Stinking Rose, which is getting to be a regular stop on the popular Justin SF Tour™. You wouldn’t think it, but the promise of garlic ice cream is just too strong for most to pass up. We had a lovely dinner, chatted about folks back home, and reflected on our experiences of SILS pedagogy.

We made one more jaunt out, this time for a parting drink at a wine bar on Chestnut street, where we sampled some California red wine, limiting ourselves in particular to Sonoma County. We started with two Pinot Noirs, a Syrah, a Zinfandel, and a Cabernet Sauvignon. I did my best to share what I retained from my wine class and promised more of the same (but free) if they come back and visit me up north.

While Chloe was at ballet, Randy, Christy, and I got donuts at the Top Pot in Capitol Hill and then went walking around some of Seattle’s more charming houses. We picked Chloe when she was done and made a quick stop at an outdoor market for some things, including smoked salmon—which I really must try again, it was wonderful.

Headed back downtown for some touristing at the Pike Place Market, complete with the famous fish tossing I remember having seen on The Real World. Found a store that sold nothing but old magazine advertisments. Wandered around Pioneer Square and stopped in the Elliott Bay Book Company where I bought my first moleskine.

The real treat was getting to take a harbor tour on the Spirit of Seattle, one of the ships Randy pilots for Argosy Cruises. The rare weather offered some breaks in the clouds so I took scads of pictures. Here’s one Randy took of Christy, Chloe, and me in front of Seattle Space Needle.

Here’s a view of the downtown city skyline as we approached the pier to dock.

After the tour we left Randy behind, he was scheduled to pilot the next cruise that evening. So Christy, Chloe and I went out in search of dinner, but not before stopping to see the quintessential view of Seattle, just as the sun was setting.

Stopped at Thai Tom along The Ave (UW’s Franklin Street) to order takeout, which I’m told should make Patrick green with envy. And it was damn good. We were thinking about you buddy, have a plate of pulled pork for us.

After dinner Christy and I went out to hear some more bluegrass, a local band called The Tall Boys, consisting of 4 dudes and a rockin’ female tap dancer for percussion. Apparently this is the thing. Makes me wish I’d learned to hoedown during my time in North Carolina. It’s never too late to dosey-do I ‘spose.

Finbar Devine’s is a pretty traditional Irish pub in Petaluma, traditional in the sense that there’s a painted portrait of JFK and his brother on the wall, as well as other “Irish” memorabilia. You know, like a bag of golf clubs. And some Guinness posters. The place is pretty well lit, but that’s probably because they serve food. Which I don’t especially recommend, least of all the Irish quesadillas. Two words. Corned Beef.

But they’ve got a damn fine burger, their fries are crispy, and on trivia night there’s usually a special on Widmer Hefeweizen or Lagunitas IPA, both of which I’m quite happy to be drinking.

Every Wednesday they hold a trivia competition, part of a larger series that spans several weeks. Over a month ago Marcia and I stumbled into Finbar on the first week of this competition. We were a few rounds late that night, needed a team name in a pinch, so I picked the most embarrassing option out of the ideas Marcia was not seriously suggesting: Glitter Ponies. Fast forward several weeks, and the Glitter Ponies have grown into a pub favorite—a legend if you will—courtesy of the bons mots we send to the trivia callers on our scorecards. Oh, and the fact that we call ourselves the Glitter Ponies helps too.

Tonight I arrived in the middle of round two (of six) having come directly from climbing with Dawn at Vertex in Santa Rosa. There was quite a crowd out, Joy and Kyle and their two friends (who had joined us two weeks prior), plus Marcia and her friend Chris, as well as Dawn and myself. I sat down to discover that Joy and Kyle’s friends have bought us the coolest mascot EVAR, a bonafide My Little Pony™ named Fair Weather.

We nicknamed her Glitterati and spent the night styling her fine glittery hair in between questions. And it must have helped. We usually score in the mid to low 40s (out of 70-80 points), but tonight we rocked with an amazing 57! Not enough to take home the prize, but quite enough to put a twinkle in our pony-smitten eyes.

Update: The Glitter Ponies now have a website: glitterponies.com!

Left kind of late for the free Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park this weekend. Was worried about parking and not really knowing where to do so. Takes about an hour to get from where I live to the city, and though I’m usually expecting massive centralized parking lots or garages at my destinations (as I’ve been conditioned by suburbia), I’m coming to realize that parking is just sprinkled all over the city.

I caught up with Casey and Andrew at the Rooster stage precisely at noon, just moments before Patty Griffin was due to go on. I’ve never seen her live before but really love some of her songs. We were a little far back, but given that everyone else was seated, angling for a better vantage was not really an option.

The fog was thick, which kept things cool. The sound was incredible. I’ve never experienced such a large audience being so well behaved and quiet during a performance, outdoors no less. Even between songs the crowd stayed hushed.

Afterwards at the same stage we got to see Joan Baez. The Joan Baez. I had the strongest urge to call my parents (thinking about the movie Forrest Gump) and tell them I was in San Francisco, that I did not have any flowers in my hair, but that I was listening to Joan Baez in the flesh. So I did. After she finished playing.

Nothing in particular caught our eyes in the mid-afternoon, so we went out in search of kettle korn, saw a little of Michael Fracasso, a singer Casey knew from Austin, then back to the main stage for Doc Watson with David Holt and Richard Watson. Finally we carved out some space for our last show of the day, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, who I’ve seen twice in concert and love.

Oh they were great. Gillian jokingly complained about not packing for the weather (it had turned decidedly cold and almost misty) so she put down her guitar, threw off her jean jacket to reveal the light summer dress she had on and said she’d go on playing like that until her teeth chattered. Got to hear the favs, I Want To Sing That Rock And Roll, Look At Miss Ohio, Revelator, but the song that got the crowd on their feet was David Rawlings’ bluegrass rendition of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls just wanna have fun.” It was incredible, I wish I had a recording. And they ended the hour and twenty minute set with the Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit as a tribute to San Francisco.

Though Gillian and David will be playing two nights next weekend at the Fillmore in San Francisco, I’ve already got plans to see them for the 4th time with my friend Christy in Seattle two weeks from now.

Afterwards the three of us stopped at a little taqueria in the Mission (Taqueria Cancun), got serenaded by a mariachi-type duet traveling from taqueria to taqueria, and enjoyed our respective “super tacos” and “super quesadillas.” I must admit, my pollo asado quesadilla was pretty damn super. Dropped Casey and Andrew off at the BART and headed north towards home.