If the San Francisco police are looking for a hot tip, here's the skinny. You can find a cavalry of transvestite and cross-dressing prostitutes around 900-1200 Post St. after 1:00 AM. Implants and estrogen is a plenty.
Yesterday afternoon I found a standing room only ticket to see one of my heroes- Garrison Keillor and his nostalgic yet relevant programme, "A Prairie Home Companion." It was... exhilarating. What is tremendous about him is his love for what he does. How quickly can that man create poetry and how brilliant his memory is. Clearly, one of the greatest story tellers in American history. The music! Sweet, comforting bluegrass filled the air of the San Francisco Opera House. It made you feel like you were right back in the middle of Minnesota. On the stage stood a two story, run down house with a lamp post on the stage left proscenium with "On Air" as one of the streets. It was being broadcast on public radio stations across the country.
Sara Watkins- big ole' crush. What a musician...
Thanks to Cathy O'Shenanigans for the tip, and being my PHC Comrade. There are only a few of us our age boy are we mighty!
I am looking for a French woman in his hostel to help me understand her language so I can sing this Debussy really right. In an attempt, I did meet this Finnish girl who knew no French at all. She did understand American sarcasm though- apparently she lived in Utah for a time as an exchange student. What a depressing place to be an exchange student; Utah. How deceiving also! How can anyone expect Utah to accurately resemble the rest of the United States in any way? Of course each state has a certain identity to it. But...Utah?
I walked around for four hours looking for food but could not decide on anything. I settled with a couple drinks and a hot dog.
Tonight I am open mic-ing and calling it an early night. Sleep would be nice and my big Tuesday is coming up. How nervous am I!
The rugby team had a party last night. The entire hostel smells like the morning after.
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