I am in San Francisco. Son James has a motorcycle. He lets me drive it. I ride around San Francisco on a motorcycle. I am 61 years old but nobody knows because I am wearing a full face helmet. I am careful where I park; in hidden corners, behind abandoned containers, deep in underground parking lots, so that nobody can see my transition from motorcycle outlaw to bald, fat old man.
The weather is glorious. San Francisco has never looked more wonderful and I am with my boys.
I roar off to watch birds on Chrissy Field. Quite tricky to find somewhere to do my Superman /Clark Kent switch and I think some people may have realized that the motorcycle outlaw is actually an aging birdwatcher – damn!
I am blessed to have such great sons, who live in a great city and one of whom has a motorcycle! Ben has a scooter – I will try that tomorrow. Compliments of the season y’all.