Luv 'N Haight

My three children had their first experience in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco this afternoon. It was a smashing success. The car ride there was a bit precarious, with younglings screaming and crying and parents arguing and parking a frightful stress. Once out of the Suburban Assault Vehicle, however, we made our way down the street, past wonderful freak shops and into a great pizza joint. The kids sat on their barstools, inhaled their slices and soaked in the people and surroundings. They just loved it. I loved it. Why wouldn't we have? Having children makes one grow conservative, even if just fearing for how your child reacts to experience. No stares, no off-the-wall comments, no running out into the sidewalk or into the laps of strangers, just wide-eyed pizza eating and comments of "I already know that, Dad" when I told my oldest that the members of the Grateful Dead used to live in a house in the neighborhood.

What were we doing down there? The brood traveled to Golden Gate Park to reunite with one of my oldest, dearest friends from college [see postings from June 2005, 2006] and her family. We met the first night of moving in, September, 1991. She and I and two other of her roommates have remained very close, even with physical and personal distance separating us at times. Our visit was brief; just three hours in the childrens' park near the carousel so our kids could play but we caught up and reconnected like it was just last week since our last visit.
I used to bug this poor girl (yes, I know she is a woman but we were nearly children when we first met) and her rommates nearly daily. I hardly ever called; I just walked over to their apartment. I'd stay an hour or two and we would chat and visit like college students do. The funny thing is that the girls and I really had absolutely nothing in common except our friendship for one another. I believe that is what has kept us friends even having gone our separate ways these last fifteen years. We didn't share anything that faded with time; no hobby or music obsession or activity; just our trust with one another and true, true friendship. The day I moved away and said goodbye (I was the first to move out of our apartments) nearly killed me. Our reunions at each others' weddings were just treasures. Our planned reunion, the first in five years, is to take place next month. Gosh, I can't wait.