Clippings

Kentucky and Robin head out to Napa Valley to receive the Markham Vineyard Mark of Distinction Grant.

Leaving out of Wichita Mid-Continental Airport happened without a hitch and connecting in Denver was miraculously effortless. As we arrived in SFO we were greeted by Kevin, the limo driver and a cavalcade of culture and climate. Kevin was holding a sign with my name on it as we came through the terminal. It was at this point I knew, for certain, that this was not going to be your run-of-the-mill vacation. (Kevin has driven Barry Bonds around town in the same limo in which we were now perched.)

Kenny immediately spotted the new Giants’ stadium and I was titillated at the thought of staying at Hotel Boheme, a quaint one-of-a kind relic of the beat poet generation. Alan Ginsberg used to hang out in the vicinity and the lobby was directly atop the Stella Bakery. Of course, I took his as a good omen.

After a cable car ride through Fisherman’s Wharf and clam chowder & sourdough bread at the fabled Fog City Diner we drug our shin-splints back up Columbus Avenue to gather our strength for Tuesday.