Cool? Gray? Dorothy, you are not in Albuquerque anymore. Well then, I must be in Oakland or, to be exact, San Leandro. Lace (also known as Teresa) is off to work and I’m still in bed with purple Surfy (also known as my beloved Surface) and a cuppa (Nescafe), my reliable on-the-road drink.

Arrived last night in time for Lace and me to have bread and cheese and coffee and wine and a Paul Simon lesson. She’s only 28 so, unlike what my friend Bob’s t-shirt claims on his behalf, she did not get to hear all of the ‘best bands’ and needs tutoring. I love this girl, she’s a true shape-shifter adapting to my basic uninteresting food likes as easily as to her family’s foodie inclinations. Lace does have a habit of eating a lot of vegetables but as long as she’s equally happy with just bread and olive oil when with me that’s okay.

This being America, as in “This is America” (Childish Gambino version) Lace was held up at gunpoint a few months ago and has moved from Oakland to the presumably safer, but slightly less interesting, environs of San Leandro. Although when a Pakistani child is getting shot down in her Texas school we are pretty much guaranteed that no place, however dull, is safe from American gunslingers. The girl’s unwary parents undoubtedly  thought they were keeping her out of harm’s way by getting her out of Pakistan; unknowingly sending her to Gunistan.

So I’m ranting. Can’t help it. I’m am so extremely pissed off by us. Americans. Mostly by white Americans. Like me. Ugh.

This is a travel blog however and, the good news is, I’m traveling. A Bay Area long weekend with my best travel buddy ever. After big trips like last fall my travel juices were dormant for awhile. Relatively dormant. Everything being relative. Including travel dormancy—I mean it’s not like I wasn’t reading about or planning for future travel.

It seems San Diego a couple of weeks ago brought my ‘road warrior’ (warrior has different meanings for different age cohorts—for me it means keeping upright, moving forward, not fearful, still curious) genes back to life. Now the Bay Area, Paul Simon, Norwegian cousins, Lace’s funny smart boyfriend, Silicon Valley, maybe another Russian restaurant, all make me excited, eager; make me forget aches and budgets; put me in full travel mode for a fairly immediate future of South Dakota, Norway, Minnesota, California wedding, the Silk Route. Maybe I should sign off while I love my life and am not getting shot at—yet today.

Excuse the tirade. Next post will be all Paul Simon.

Last week in Albuquerque, I partook of the WEDDING. Just Harry, Meghan and me. With Pimms. AND it rained.