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Dateline, San Francisco: I'm a man without a home wandering the backroads and mean streets of this wonderful country called the United States of America. I've sublet my rent controlled NYC apartment and hit the road, footloose and fancy free. The city by the bay has been kind and I've seen some great music here already. I must say I'm happy to trade the urine flavored humidity that the streets of New York offer every summer for the sea breezes of California. Things are different here. People talk to each other on the subways and eye contact is not a reason to stab somebody. A guy, a seemingly normal guy, asked if he could read my paper on the train and I thought there must be something wrong with him. In NYC that kind of interaction could be viewed as grounds for a beating. I looked at him like "sure freak, you can borrow my paper." He seemed confused by my aggression and it took me a while to realize, "Hey, people do that here." I'm not saying it's better especially 'cause on that same trip a group of women started singing Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore, in rounds. I have a crazy mix of music for you this time from Latin Rock to Heavy Metal to something I call Delta Tribal. Next time you hear from me I'll be in Scotland at the Edinburgh Festival and after that who knows. Gosh, can you control your anticipation. P.S. To those I know and never reached. She said Yes!
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