Folsom Street Fair 2008 – come and gone

We survived another Folsom Street Fair.  A college friend of mine, Tim, flew in from Hawaii for the shananigans.  Friday night, we headed out late for some beers at Chaps 2 and then pretty much called it a night.  Saturday, we went shopping and bummed around town.  In the evening, I sported my new assless chaps for a night out on Folsom Street.

The street fair was yesterday, and although I missed meeting up with fellow bloggers Big Red Dave and Adam, I did run into J.R. and Hello Waffles.  You can see the day below:

And being the ‘ho that I am, I landed myself a cute guy to end my day….

Tim (he is on the left in the second photo) headed out to the Real Bad Party to end a long but spectacular day.  Wish you could have been here!  Until next year…

I’m in love…

…with Peter Cincotti.  I downloaded one of his albums last night and can’t stop listening to it.  What a sexy guy!  His voice is amazing.  Check him out.

Happy Birthday, Louie!

Louie turns 7 today – it seems like yesterday that he rode him in my lap from the breeder.  The bottom photo is Louie within the first hour of arriving home in 2001 to my house in Santa Fe.

I love you, pal!  Happy Birthday!

Why am I not surprised?

Just checking out my stats for the first time in eons.  Why is this not surprising?  I guess key words and Search Engine Optimization was so important.

The best friends you ever have are the friends you have when you are 12

Text message exchange from last night – 6:15 p.m.:

ALAN: I just landed in Frisco.

DAN: Never use the word Frisco in any communication with me ever again.

ALAN: Homo.

DAN: Just keep your butt covered after Monster Park!

One of my best friends Alan (more like a brother than anyone else in my life except my friend Nick in Santa Fe) was in San Francisco tonight, so since we hadn’t seen each other for five years, we had a sit-down dinner and just caught up.  How nice it was.  Do you remember the end of Stand By Me when the Richard Dreyfuss character wrote “the best friends you ever have are the friends when you were 12?”  Such a great line.  It is so true.

It may sound cliche, but the old adage that with good friends you can pick up where you left off (sometimes years before) is certainly true.  Within minutes, we were making fun of our childhood friends.  We were remembering the time I dove into an icy Maine lake at a friend’s party in March (there was still ice floating on the lake) to attempt a APB on my lost wallet (it was on the kitchen counter in the house).  Later that night, as I drove my Pontiac Firebird home wrapped in nothing but a blanket, Alan asked me to pull over so he could throw up on the side of the road.  An hour later, we were all busted by our other best friend’s father who had opened up the basement door only to find all three of us pissing together into the floor drain.

Tonight upon Alan’s arrival – 7:35 p.m.

“You have a beard – where did that come from?” he asked tonight as he entered.  No hellos and barely a hug into the evening we started dissing on each other.

My response: “Puberty – you remember that?”

Never has a line rung so true.  The top photo was taken in August 1984 just before I went off to Dartmouth.  I almost look at my 18-year-old image in shock.  So much has changed since then.  So much.  It’s amazing to sit with Alan — both of us full-grown men – he, the father of three with an awesome wife – me, not so much. But’s that okay.

Note my tan arms and white face – I drove a tractor on my dad’s farm all that summer outside shirtless – with only sunscreen on my face.  I have not been that tan since…and that tan will come back to haunt me, I’m sure.

After too much wine and steak, we headed home to look at photos and dug up these gems.  I determined we had to take a comparison shot tonight.  There you have it.

Alan, thanks for stopping by.  It made my year.  And, yes, I really needed it.

And one last shot of Alan with my infamous Firebird.  We were so fucking ’80s.  The Reagan years rocked.

It’s about time…

…not that it is anyone’s business, or that anyone is surprised.  Congrats, Clay!  Welcome to our world.

New hope

I’m getting through a week where I have had many emotionals ups and downs but otherwise feeling strong.  I’ve started therapy again, am in the process of phasing out my anti-depressant (hate them), and things seem in flux with my personal life.  I will spare details here but let’s just say I’m looking for some peace.

On a cool note, I reconnected with a college acquaintance through Facebook and he is visiting San Francisco next weekend for Folsom Street Fair.  We have some super fun activities planned and the weekend will be memorable for sure.  Folsom has gone mainstream amateur at this point, but it is always an entertaining weekend for sure.  I have been dabbling in the leather scene lately and have met some great guys through my association.  I am volunteering at one of the events which will offer some new perspective to my San Francisco experience.

It’s great to have something fun to which I can look forward.  Fall seems to be moving into the Bay Area.  Leaves are already blowing around the streets of Palo Alto (where I work) and the air a bit more crispy.  I never look forward to winter but do love fall.  Something about the light and chilliness lures me.  I like wearing more of my wardrobe (some of the time).  The days are getting shorter and people have returned to work; it seems like this year flew by like a speeding bullet.

After the holidays, the advancement of spring always brings new hope for fresh starts, resolutions, and new goals.  That’s part of the year for which I am looking forward.