Once again, I have successfully escaped from Texas. I suppose it's a good idea both to stay in practice and to remind myself I still can do it. There is so much about the old place that just makes me crazy with irritation but also stirs a reluctant fondness at the same time. I suppose that can be true of every place, I'm just most familiar with the Texas flavor.
I went to Houston to visit my brother Ed who has been living with Parkinson's disease for several years. The last few months have been very difficult for him; it's common for Parkinson's sufferers to develop psychosis and Ed had a rough patch of it This spring he has struggled with hallucinations and memory gaps. It was hard seeing him like this, he would have moments when it would be obvious he would sort of lose traction mentally in the middle of a conversation. I'm glad I went to see him, I'm just sorry it was such a sad visit.
In related travel news, I had the best guacamole I've ever had while I was hanging out with Diane in Austin. Making it even better was the fact that we got it at a new restaurant called Tzintzantzun. My hand to god.
One of the many best things about San Francisco is that no matter where you travel, you get to come back here when you return. I like Texas and I love California, the problem is air travel between them. Yuck. We sat in a fully loaded plane at the gate for more than an hour waiting for the fog in San Francisco to lift. It's traditional when that happens to get home and tell your friends about it and they ask "What fog? It's been sunny all day here." Also, United lost my bag, fortunately they found it several hours later and brought it to me. Thank you United, I would have hated to have lost all those dirty clothes.
I am never leaving San Francisco again.
Boys for whom I would leave San Francisco:
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