California, May 2003
“It’s cold and raining” they said.
My plane lands in San Jose. The temperature outside is about 70 degrees and the sun is shining.
My mom and her friend Sue were waiting at the baggage claim. We managed to find our way out of the San Jose Airport and went to lunch at the new Santana Row shops. Lunch was nice, but the shopping area looks a little too pre-fabricated. Afterwards we drove up to Redwood City and picked up my dad and grandmother. The four of us headed back to Los Gatos for dinner with friends.
There was a bright white H2 sitting in the driveway of my old house. For some reason that really irritated my mom. We met my aunt and uncle and a few old neighbors for pizza, which my friend Scott and I got to pick-up in the Porsche. Unfortunately, Los Gatos is a 25 MPH zone all the way to T-Birds pizza.
The Tequila! pizza was fantastic.
The River
My family owns a cabin (through my paternal grandmother) in Summer Home Park on the Russian River near Forestville, CA. The cabin must be opened and cleaned every year in preparation for summer visits. This was the first such cleaning weekend that I can remember attending.
I ended up stacking firewood and splitting kindling as we made our way through a stack of cedar and redwood shingles left over from a past renovation. By evening most of the past years detritus had been removed. People cleaned themselves up and assembled on the deck to talk and eat.
The Memorial
Last August my Uncle Jim passed away from a sudden heart attack. So on Sunday we gathered on the deck with pictures and stories to say goodbye. Jim loved the cabin.
It was good to see my cousins again, some of whom I haven’t seen in years. It’s weird to think that my cousins have families now; there were several new babies, and one more on the way.
Berkeley
Sunday night I was dropped off at a friend’s apartment in Berkeley. Dave and I went through Boy Scouts and high school together, and don’t get to see each other much now that we live on opposite sides of the country. He and his girlfriend led me off to dinner at Jupiter’s where I got to meet a few of his friends (and his roommate, with whom I’ve had many short conversations since Dave is never home). To put it mildly Jupiter’s (and nearly every restaurant I went to in Berkeley) puts anything here in Durham to shame. I recommend Cafe Intermezzo in particular.
Dave had to work the next two days, so I spent the afternoons reading and exploring Berkeley. I surprised an old friend of Erica’s and spent some time catching up with him on life as a Berkeley grad student. As it turns out he shares an office with another old high school friend on mine.
Berkeley is an interesting place. A big city that’s not that big, with a reputation for oddity it seems to savor. Apartments are hard to come by, and cost a fortune when found. The food and beer are both good, and surprisingly reasonable. A place I had a good time visiting (helped by wonderfully warm weather), but have no desire to live in.
Leaving
Tuesday night Dave and I drove down to Mountain View and had dinner with my family at my aunt’s house. A sizable number of ribs were vanquished as we talked, ate, and sneaked peeks at the TV to see what was happening on “24″.
I said goodbye to friends and family and spent the night at my aunt’s house. In the morning she dropped me at the San Jose airport and I checked in . The line at security wound its way through the airport but we were walked through quickly. I hate flying west coast to east coast. You leave in the morning and arrive at night; the day passes in the air as you try to entertain yourself on the plane.
Erica was waiting at the baggage claim with a big smile on her face.
The End