HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM

Though she passed away many years ago I still feel different on my mother's birthday, which today is. This world now is a bit different than hers was, and San Francisco, which she fondly remembered, is naturally not the same. Things have changed. There are far fewer beatnicks writing poetry. She hated them. I have met their remnants, and I too loathe those people.
Crappy "verse", bad hygiene, overly much pretension.
Well, okay, they were fond of coffee.
That was good.

Probably indulged in three espresso lunches instead of the martini-sodden steak-orgies that were common business practice once. I would probably have sympathised with that, being somewhat distasting of the company of loud drunken wrecks at any time, but I would have avoided them just the same as I prefer my caffeine jags quieter, alone if necessary, and accompanied by considerably less crappy verse.


She got three masters degrees while avoiding beatnicks, hippies, and advertising executives. Old English, old Irish, and old Norse. She thought that Lord Of The Rings was kind of a great thing. Which is where we differ. I waded through over two thirds of the way in, and simply lost interest. And I can't stand Hobbits.

Her family background was military, with a number of officers among her relatives including her father. She herself signed up for the United States Naval Reserveduring the world war, and served again a few years later during Korea. I have , likely because of that, a soft spot for veterans, as well as the SF Presidio where my grandfather was stationed.


There are, to my knowledge, no hobbits presently serving in any branch of the armed forces. Which is a great pity. For one thing, the food would probably be better, and for another it would make men out of them.

Because the Presidio is now a park, you can occasionally find hobbits there.
Camped out in the overgrown areas, rabid, and drug-addicted.
San Francisco has always been into substances.



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