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Biking the Golden Gate and Adventures in Overfeeding Dog Sitters
What a joy a rainy San Fran day can be. The joy was only slightly diminished by the lame musical Rent and only slightly more diminished by an evening phone call from Sling Blade, the autistic dog sitter.
We alternate between a patient of mine with severe emotional issues after brain tumor surgery and the giant Billy Bob Thorton autistic fellow to watch the two dogs. Daisy is an unabashed begging ho dog that somehow cons these dog sitters in to overfeeding her. Sling Blade called Sunday night,”uhhh-hmmmm, dogs had some accidents, mmmmm uhhh.” Dogs having accidents means that Daisy dolloped everywhere as only she can do since she doesn’t just leave her business in one pile but moves six inches and dollops with each doggy doo leaving 4-20 dollops. Somehow Darwin should have made this dog go bye-bye and yours truly was thinking of the pound on return when the sheer magnitude of fecal explosions was realized upon home reentry. I digress.
Sunday we braved the rain and biked across the Golden Gate Bridge. My grandpa helped paint that bridge and two years ago my wife and I ran across it and back on her birthday. This was an odd trip given the weather but an immensely rewarding one. The night before we had seen the ballet Frankenstein which was an incredibly well done and moving portrayal of love denied. We were inspired to exercise the next morning and stumbled upon a rental place that pitched a cross bridge adventure with a ferry back from either Sausalito or Tiburon.
By the time we hit the bridge it was a rainy windy mess with occasional brave souls making the crossing. The kids were in heaven and seemingly oblivious to the weather. We made it over and descended in to the tourist trap of Sausalito with its beautiful houses, beautiful boats, beautiful nature, and beautiful people. We found an overpriced touristy cafe to get hot chocolate for the kids and a bottle of red wine for mommy and daddy. Mediocre food hit the spot every bit as well as yesterday’s awesome fare had. Exercising in gale force wind and rain does that.
The ferry home took us past Alcatraz, the old rock like a sentinel protecting the past. We did plenty of other fun things but mostly wanted to share the Golden Gate adventure. We were with another couple and their kids. This somewhat liberal couple never mentioned the President the entire weekend and neither did we. What a nice change from the news.
Awesome Pics, Doc! Love me some Presidio views! Great recount of travels — man, do I (kinda, sorta) miss California and that City By The Bay:
Sling Blade the autistic dog sitter.
Hahaha! Sounds like a fun family outing.
Bicycles are for Chinamen!
Not the preferred nomenclature, man. They’re called Rickshaws.
I’m not talking about someone who built the railroads…
Kwai Chain Cane?
I began drinking this bottle of red while in line. Truly a wino in the making.
Looking good Doc! I mean, like a hipster as well.
Ah, screw top, sign of fine wines everywhere:
Dirty Harry country. Nice.
I haven’t biked across, but have driven a couple of times. One of the them I caught a low flying cloud halfway across. That was kind of cool looking, the mist swirling around all the cables.
Oh, I thought this post was partly going to be about how well-fed your dog sitters are when the family goes on vacation.
Anyway, happy and healthy-looking family you have there, Doc.
Mmmm. I like me some of them French fried potatoes; maybe some of that potted meat. Mmmmm.
BTW, did you sleep at all during Rent? I found it a pleasant nap inducing bit of theatre, like most of its kind. The hard part is answering the wife’s questions afterward?
“What was your favorite part, song, scene, character?” I always go for the fat guy (or girl or guy playing a girl) and the big dance number. It usually works.
Ha, she didn’t like it either. Nap inducing indeed though. Afterword we were picked up by the Cabaret Cabby who sang to us from the musical he had written. His first tune was of an old hairy lady with a unique name. Ironically I take of an older hairy lady ( full mustache) with the exact same name.
Like any good red-blooded American.
When I lived in Tiburon and worked in the Embarcadero, I’d run home across the GGB once a week. When I got on the bridge, I’d think please Lord let there not be an earthquake in the next twelve minutes.
Thanks for the tag-along, Doc! Always fun…
Love the images and stories!
You have a lovely family, DocJay.
This. For me, it evokes images of the ‘good old days,’ when every subject did not somehow bleed over into who you voted for for President, and when that was pretty much your own business and didn’t have to be shared on Facebook and Twitter (even if your politics were obvious to those around you). And when it was possible to be friends with, stay friends with, and have a pleasant time with, people all over the ideological map.
Nice post, and lovely pictures. I can totally relate to the pet stories.
Looks like some well-hung salami there.
Ahh the low hanging fruit exposed.
With Milo out of the picture, someone has to do it…
San Fran was a nice place to visit while the sunshine was abundant and the locals were not maxed out odd.
They let you drink in the checkout lane now, Hmm. Now there is is start on a cure, or sumthin better.
Looked like a neat outing, or is that something too personal.