San Francisco in the Rain and Mist

I'm still besotted with this City, despite it all. I celebrated its strange magic and resilience in Season of the Witch, and I've railed against its robotic takeover during the tech era. But it still enchants me -- or at least the DREAM of San Francisco does.

Today I ate lunch in my favorite restaurant; waiters who know me and friends dropped by my table. Later I walked the streets with the aid of my cane (or Caen named after Herb). I was chilled to the bone, despite my heavy coat and scarf. Puffy clouds, white and gray, drifted lazily across the ice-blue sky. All was bright and clear.

My wife and I are moving out of our ramshackle house later this year. During the last 30 odd years (and there were some really odd ones), this old bungalow served its purpose. We raised three boys-to-men here and hosted countless friends and relatives. It's filled with memories, and some ghosts.

We're moving. Looking for something smaller and more manageable. But we'll stay in San Francisco. It's who we are. Where else would we go?

Speaking of Gene Clark (which I was on my Facebook page) and "Frisco," knock me your lobes on this song. Rain, mist, a woman with a strong mind of her own... what other City could it be?