Summer is Here

In San Francisco - San Francisco not L.A. You may be mistaken and think that Pamela Anderson types in red swimsuits are basking in the Californian sun all the time. Well, you are very wrong. However for some reason the Mission in the Southern end of the city the sun is out, but I doubt anyone has ever seen a leggy blond parading up and down Valencia Street in a lifeguard outfit, unless it is Bay to Breakers of course, then anything could happen. What I am getting at is it is really hot right now - It has been in the high 70's in my neighborhood all weekend, and the fog managed to take a lay in yesterday and did not blanket the beautiful Golden Gate Park. Which made for a grand fortieth birthday party for Meg (did you find a camera near our table by the way?). Matt and I went to play kickball, or slosh ball as it is aptly named. Basically it is a game of baseball with a huge beach ball (but much, much harder - especially when booted at one full on in the face). You have to have a beer in hand at all times, and also have to down a pint on 2nd base before you even think of moving a muscle. You are probably getting apprehensive about this blog post now - thinking a million and one things which could have gone wrong. Thinking that it is probably best that two of my close friends here are nurses, pondering what awful stories of drunken debauchery can one write about. Well, sadly there was no game.

My mate Mike, from London and his crazy hyperactive mentalist excuse for a dog arrived at 3 ish, and met Matt who was already there as he plays football every Sunday at the polo fields in the park. There were already 3 picnic tables filled with nibbles and a full bar and many party goers half intoxicated after drinking keg beer and whizzing about on roller skates for the best part of the morning (one aspect of the celebrations I decided to pass on) and the field was as green as Gleneagles all set for a kickball extravaganza. Well, it did not happen, maybe because the host was wandering about the place with a long blond wig, a Mexican cell phone holder, cut off denim shorts and several different multicolored sun glasses throughout the course of the day. Maybe it was because there were two kegs and did I mention the full bar? Perhaps the copious amount of small people with organic names such as Ocean and Leaf put us drunken fools off; kicking kids in the head while trying to avoid a drinking fine while sliding into 1st base usually ends in tears. Or perhaps it was the fact that the sun beating down on our happy smiling love living in San Francisco face's were just revelling in the fact that Spring is here. And I don't need to don a red one piece to prove it!