- Southern Comfort - Sunday, August 08, 2004 It's been slow-moving Sunday at my house. I've been doing laundry, paying a few bills online, and getting packed to head to Southern Cali tomorrow. Almost annually, I take off to visit my aunt and uncle in San Juan Capistrano, CA. which is about an hour south of Los Angeles. I'll be gone for about a week, but the laptop wil be in toe ;) I arrived home late last night from San Francisco. Molly had invited me to come to the Aloha Festival at Presidio Park, just below the Golden Gate Bridge. Had a great time with Molla in San Fran drivin' all over the place. I'm learning how to become an efficient driver in Downtown San Fran, despite every driver's intention to run you clean off the road. And let me just tell you, the downtown hobo's are brutal! These guys, complete with their not-shaved-in-years-yet-manage-to-be-wearing-NIKE sneakers and Charles Mason-esque hair coif, they are truly making a corporation out of hitting up the general public for cash. And of course, the usual would be to spot them on the intersection island, or near a high-traffic underpass. Is that good enough for these SF pushers? I'll take "Hell No" for 400, Alex. These fools straight dive into oncoming vehicles, knowing full well you're not about to run them over - you've got a busy enough schedule as it is today - and proceed to knock on your window. Some able-bodied, smelly, bridge troll is coming to knock on your window, and you're telling me you're going to stick around to find out what he wants? You can scoff, You can roll the window down to throw them some change, or you can do what I do...hit the gas and let out a shrek of terror. I saw many souls giving hand outs, and as an added bonus for your generousity you get half-hearted 'Thank You' followed by a face full of second hand smoke, courtesy of that Charles Mason chimney that's now slinking off your lunch money. Now, don't get me wrong - there's nothing more amazing than extending your hand to help those in need. But these individuals are in need of an extended foot in the ass for harassing downtown traffic and attempting to insult my intelligence with "out of money, out of luck, please help". Some of those signs are older than me. And their excuses for not becoming a part of the rest of the hard-working society even older still. Anyway, where was I? Let's see....AH...the festival. Molls was delirious from sleep deprivation, I was delirious from how freakin' good the Festival's kettle corn was, and both of us were enjoying the view of smoldering hot polynesian men. When the day was through, Molls, Molls' Mom (aka Moms), and myself kicked it at the IHOP across the street from the hotel. Lots of grub, laughs, and examining the sunburn I realized I had. OUCH! I'm tellin' you, this Puerto Rican-Paddy can't handle the sun like the polynesians. Well, back to doctor this burn, and finish packing. August is going to be FULL of crazy, wonderful things.

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