Gratuitous Fogville Imagery

TODAY'S PICS (click on 'em to make 'em bigger).

Fannie's house is very near the water, on what the locals call "Pedro Point." The maps seem to have other ideas.

The above shot is of the neighborhood behind Fannie's place. The trees and forests are wonderful. The people are the usual mix, I guess. Some are great.

Some of 'em are total rat bastards from hell, like a certain drug dealing family that I don't wanna talk about.

ELROY AND I left from Pacifica at about 11:00 a.m.

Above is a photo of the San Francisco Penninsula. As you can see, our trip to the hospital hugs the western coastline.

I think Elroy thinks I drive too fast. Not so. I accelerate too fast. There's a difference.

As we drove northward, I played some Smiths, some This Mortal Coil, and even some White Stripes. I think Elroy dug it. He was a Marine, you know, like my brother Ray.

There's a fair amount of shabbiness to how things are built and laid-out in this area. The land and sea are beauitiful, of course, but morons seem to "plan" things and build things around here. Maybe I'll show you tomorrow. Maybe not.

No doubt things are different elsewhere on the penninsula. Could be. Hope so.

(ABOVE) We're looking south, down toward Pedro Valley/Pedro Point and Pacific Beach. My sister's place is right there on the point, to the right of the middle of the picture. She's an artist, you know. You should see her famous Easter Goose, used by the American Cancer Society.

Here's a shot of Fannie's cat, Tiger-Ann. How come? Cuz I wanted to have at least one good shot in here. Tiger-Ann is photogenic.

The next three shots are on Highway 1, headed south. I wanted to give you a sense of how much fog there is around here, even on a nice summer day. Sometimes, it blows across the road in semi-discrete wisps, like spectral tumbleweed.

--I know. I'm a Southern Cal boy, and I don't understand cold and fog and incessant wetitude. Could be. So maybe this shit is standard all over the place. I dunno.

I guess I oughta travel more.

On the other hand, I think people oughta stop movin' around so much. Stay in one spot. Make it good there. Make it better. Pick up some trash.



These next shots are from the "Great Highway," just south of that crazy Cliff House. People are always flyin' kites there. This guy seemed to be pretty good at it. I watched him for a while.

Lots of sand, man.



On the Great Highway, I parked to take some pics, and this old guy stopped me to ask about my car. "Is that yours?", he asked.

"Yup. Just got it."

"It sure looks great. How does it drive?"

"Great. Fast. It's comfortable."

"These cars are popular, aren't they?"

"I guess so."

"My, my. How do you like that?"

He wasn't saying anything.

He paused. We stared at the car, then at the ocean. The wind blew. We looked north. Birds squawked.

"Bye now," he said, after a bit.

Fannie is doing better. She says "Hey."