Gail has always been a hoot. She’s an outspoken, smart, funny, go-for-broke kind of gal, and can always be counted to say exactly what’s on her mind. She does not suffer fools gladly, but that seems to be a given among my social group. She’s a criminal defense lawyer for a living. She and I work with a similar clientele. She gets them off scot free. I try to redeem them. It’s thankless work, no matter how you look at it. But she will tirelessly go to bat for the undeserving louts and fight like a bulldog. In the meantime, she manages to piss off judges and other lawyers, mainly because, as I mentioned before, she does not suffer fools gladly, or even quietly.
She was kind enough to drive to the Haight to come see me as I find riding Muni to be too daunting in my current delicate condition, much as I would love to visit North Beach again. She and Wolf attend the Iowa Writer’s Workshop together in the late seventies, so we all three went out to lunch. They hadn’t seen each other in years. We talked about law, writing, kids, the usual stuff. I though how pleasant it was not to be a writer, only someone with a blog and no ambition in the writerly direction.
After lunch we took ourselves the Conservatory in Golden Gate Park. It was a free day so we mingled with the riffraff and viewed the pretty plants. Golden Gate is much as it ever was, although the De Young has become a hideous metal monster that resembles an office trash basket and strange things are happening to science museum. It is lovely to sniff the eucalyptus, a scent one won’t find outside a bottle in Portland.
We ambled back to the Haight where Wolf bought us some Italian soda and we sat on the stoop to drink it and watch the passing scene. Soon the afternoon had been frittered away in the most delightful fashion and it was Nap Time so Gail climbed into her SUV and Wolf and I climbed the stairs to our respective bedrooms and went down for a snooze. I had an invitation for a seder and I needed some time to resurrect. The simplest excursions tire me out. We had walked, mmm, perhaps two miles and that was enough.
She was kind enough to drive to the Haight to come see me as I find riding Muni to be too daunting in my current delicate condition, much as I would love to visit North Beach again. She and Wolf attend the Iowa Writer’s Workshop together in the late seventies, so we all three went out to lunch. They hadn’t seen each other in years. We talked about law, writing, kids, the usual stuff. I though how pleasant it was not to be a writer, only someone with a blog and no ambition in the writerly direction.
After lunch we took ourselves the Conservatory in Golden Gate Park. It was a free day so we mingled with the riffraff and viewed the pretty plants. Golden Gate is much as it ever was, although the De Young has become a hideous metal monster that resembles an office trash basket and strange things are happening to science museum. It is lovely to sniff the eucalyptus, a scent one won’t find outside a bottle in Portland.
We ambled back to the Haight where Wolf bought us some Italian soda and we sat on the stoop to drink it and watch the passing scene. Soon the afternoon had been frittered away in the most delightful fashion and it was Nap Time so Gail climbed into her SUV and Wolf and I climbed the stairs to our respective bedrooms and went down for a snooze. I had an invitation for a seder and I needed some time to resurrect. The simplest excursions tire me out. We had walked, mmm, perhaps two miles and that was enough.
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