I arrived back from San Francisco last night after eight days of freedom and GLORY. It was lovely and I had a swell time with good company, eating good food, and relaxing often. I hadn’t been there since August, but it felt as though I’d never left.

(Adam, why did I not get any photos of you? Please insert many productive, smiling and energetic photos of Adam Hurly here.)

Estelle & I had an afternoon luncheon, Starbucks, and Sephora — where she did herself up in a makeup tribute to Mondo Guerra before purchasing blue mascara.

It was mostly chilly, a little rain, but much more pleasant than snow!

We went to the flea market on Saturday, 02 Jan. Glorious! So many goods I wish I could have taken home with me (I couldn’t believe I left empty-handed!) Amy found her 1977 Conference Champions future holiday punch bowl, Eddie a(nother) rifle and gold teeth (!), and Carlos an old Vietnam military bag and old photographs. Estelle got…what did you get?

Estelle with Amy’s prize on her head.

Robert: “I look like a hipster.”

After eating at one of the most delicious taquerias in all of the Mission district and a hearty dose of thrifting, we found a graffitied alley to take photos.
For whatever reason, I had to have my photo taken by this odd Ford truck, tucked away in a parking garage!

I spent an afternoon roaming the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, where an amazing Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibit was on display.

Young runs Petite Deli on Columbus Avenue in North Beach. I visited her sandwich shop one day this past summer and found her to be most unforgettable. When I returned to the city I knew I had to visit her! She makes me smile. “My name is Young…like young and old!” She even claimed to remember me. Either way, I was happy to see her again!

Estelle is a babe.

Eddie’s nightstand. There’s a lot going on here.

I tucked Estelle into a burrito one final time, said goodnight, then cried myself to sleep.

The scenes during the flight back were beautiful.

Just a small snippet of my incredible visit to the city — you can find more on my flickr,

I miss it all! But it’s not goodbye, rather “see you soon!”

xo . j

San Francisco


Sitting at the dining room table next to the one and only Estelle Emery, who is currently doing her homework. Mother Amy making dinner in kitchen, some sort of culinary extravaganza. Dogs Sparty (Sparticus) and Auggie (Augustus) are curled up on the floor. To my right, the sun has gone down over the bay and the lighthouse at Alcatraz is swirling its search beam. Marin headlands are hazy in the distance, and the water is calm save one tiny boat tugging along. Along the coast, Fisherman’s Wharf is beginning to light up neon hues of red and blue.
The glory is, I get to be here until Friday! Inhaling fresh air throughout each day…
This video is soooooooooo cheese fest, but I remember hearing this song at a club (yes, a club) once upon a day in SF and thinking, “Wow…what would Scott McKenzie say?” Then 7% of my subconscious started to dig it a little. It’s wrong, I’ll admit. This mix is wrong. The video…even wronger. San Francisco itself wouldn’t even approve of it. You’re best off turning off the audio, ignoring the cheesy leather jacket and sports car appeal, and only looking at the scenery.
Anyway. Sorry Scott.


Through each digression, of furthermore and finally, of a chin tilted toward the sidewalk, invincible. Past House of Nanking and its future diners that curled around Kearny to Columbus, the same intersection where mind always changed about something. Let’s go! Climb away to Broadway and the Condor, cigars, City Lights and tourist stars singing take me to San Francisco, right here, right here where I am making days of life.

On that same corner, across Market where the beautiful men strode in suits and the F-Train sweats along the rails, I’m blushing.