Believe it or not, it took us just over 11 months of living in the Bay Area to actually make it to the Gold Gate Bridge. It was indeed impressive, and I wasn't tempted at all to fling myself over the railing. Not even a little bit.
Funny story about this trip: a week or two earlier we had visited some friends in LA. We stopped in Santa Monica, where we lived in 1999, to check out the old stomping grounds. As we walked from the Third Street Promenade to Ocean Boulevard to admire the ocean, we noticed this biker couple that must've been in their 50s. They were very distinctive because they were clad in black and red leather from head to toe, and the guy had a mane of white, white hair.
So now we're at the Golden Gate Bridge and Tala goes, "Hey, it's those bikers from Santa Monica!" She actually went up and said hi and had her picture taken with them! And after we left the bridge area, about an hour later we saw them in some other part of San Francisco getting gas.
This picture of Harlan and his "girlfriend" Miwana just cracks me up. Miwana is a Japanese girl who lives in the same apartment building as we do. Until last summer, she also went to the same preschool as Harlan. He just looks so pleased with himself.
I had a regular eye checkup today, and they dilated my pupils. This has to be one of the most uncomfortable procedures I've been through. I came out three hours ago and I am only regaining the ability to see somewhat clearly.
When I first emerged I couldn't keep my eyes open because everything was so bright. Thankfully the eye doctor is half a block away from our apartment or I wouldn't have been able to drive home.
The worst thing is, there is very little you can do when you can't see. The dilation also messes up your short-range vision, so you can't watch TV, type or read. I just closed the shades, put a pillow over my head, and napped for an hour.
Thankfully, I'm recovering now, which is a good thing since we are going to the San Francisco Ballet tonight. Gotta get us some culture.
If you drive up to Santa Rosa, about an hour north of Oakland, cut west along the Russian River, and then take a short zig down the coast followed by a short zag back east along the other side of the river, you'll come to Pomo Canyon, a sweet little stand of redwood trees rising out of the chaparral and grass of the region. They don't take reservations, so it's first come, first serve. This shot was taken as Gandalf revealed himself to be the White Wizard.
What's the best thing since sliced bread?
1. Modern farming methods
2. Antibiotics
3. Semiconductor devices
No, I haven't forgotten about sharing pictures from last year. Admittedly they are losing their significance as 2006 recedes, but I'm committed to finishing this "Year In Pictures" thing I started! Apparently we only took two photos worth keeping in June, and this was the better of them. This was taken on Mt. Diablo, about 20 miles east of Oakland. You can drive to the summit, and on the way up are lots of little campgrounds and trailheads. This area was a collection of cool cave and boulder formations carved out of the sandstone.
Posting has been light. Okay, non-existent. This is because post-holiday January has shaped up to be a busy time at work. There was the Consumer Electronics Show, and although I didn't have to go it sucks up so much media oxygen and takes so many bodies out of regular coverage that it leaves a lot of work for those left behind in the bureaux.
We took tons of pictures in May, but very few of them turned out well. This was mainly due to the very bright sun. Whether we were swimming in our apartment pool or camping in the Sierras, the sun was just too damn bright. But we did get this rare, picture of all of us together. This is on the Stanislaus River in the Sierras. The campground has some wacky Indian name, but it was a fantastic campground. Clean, peaceful and not too crowded.
I have now accomplished one of the big Fatherly Duties: teaching Harlan to ride a bicycle. None of those wussy training wheels, either, he just mounted right up and took off.
Forgive me a bit of father indulgence when I say Harlan is an athletic genius of Olympic proportions. He just turned 5 in November and he mastered the whole bike-riding thing after about 30 minutes of instruction and help.
Okay, his dismount consists of slowing down enough for him to leap clear of the bike, then watching as it crashes into the nearest object. And since he's still a couple inches shy of the minimum recommended height for the bike, he has a little trouble mounting up. But he'll get the hang of that soon enough.
At one point, I was jogging in front of him, having him follow me and my turns. I made a big 180-degree loop and was heading back the way we had come when I heard a panicked "Daddy!" Apparently, he had only made about 90 degrees of the turn, and I turned my head to see him headed for a metal picnic table with his hands completely off the handlebars. BLAM! He slammed right into the table, but somehow managed to jump clear of the bike at the last instant and land on his feet. His face was frozen in an expression of terror, but it vanished in an instant, replaced by a slowly widening grin.
I expect future major Fatherly Duties will include helping him catch his first fish, fire a gun for the first time, teaching him to drive a car, and helping him roll his first D&D character. You know, the important stuff.
