Dear Diary

September 17, 2010

It's 8 pm on Friday night. Alex, his cousin Evie, her boyfriend, Kyle, and I enter into a downtown San Francisco concert venue. The change is almost imperceptible at first, but after a tour through the venue I start noticing things. Leggings. Skinny jeans that hit at the ankles. Big boots. Keds. Over-sized tops. Headbands with large bows. Lace gloves. It seems as though we've been transported back to a strange version of 1987. I also realize that we must be in some sort of high school auditorium since everyone around us is 18.

The music of the opening act confirms we're in the '80s. I enjoy the synthesized performance, but I have a hard time discerning what is actually live. The drums seem real - yes? But the skinny guy with the tight, washed-out jeans leading the show - what exactly is he up to? Is he really playing that guitar? Is he really singing? Is his hair real? What exactly is going on here?

I also question his strategy of telling the audience to buy the band's CD after every song. I try to ask Alex if he thought they'd done any market research on whether CD sales went up if you continually reminded your audience that they could buy your CD. I got no answer since he couldn't hear a word I was saying. Wait. Were CDs around in 1987? Are CDs even still around?

The second act are lyrical geniuses. I am reminded of once telling Alex that, if I could sing, I would try to bring back the ballads of yore. I think it would be nice to learn something of history while enjoying a song.

As the evening progresses, more and more people fill in around us. The air grows heavy and suddenly the light dims to a dark blue. The main act enter, and we no longer seem to be lost in 1987. I scan the audience in front of me. In the thick, blue haze, I see everyone, with arms in the air, swaying to the current of the music. We all now appear to be underwater.

I have ear plugs in. I didn't inherit the hearing loss that runs rampant in my family, and I want to keep my hearing as is. I worried that the ear plugs would dull my experience, but, strangely, plugging my ears makes the music crisp and clear. It also allows me to hear all of the conversations going on around me. I can hear everything the couple next to us is saying. I try not to listen. When I yawn (yes, I yawn - I'm not used to being up past 11 pm!), a room full of the most wonderful whispers slip past the ear plugs and into my ears. I relish in the cacophony for the split second.

Alex is also wearing ear plugs, but he has quite a different experience. He can't seem to hear anything. Maybe we wear ear plugs differently? I do get him to hear me say, "This is the first real date we've been on in a while!"

His reply, and my favorite line of the night, was "Some of our runs together are like dates." Who needs date nights when you have date runs?!

All in all it is quite a lovely night. I enjoyed spending time with Alex's family, and I hope we get to see more of them now that they are in the bay area.

September 18, 2010

It's 2:30 pm on Saturday. We arrive at the beautiful Legion of Honor Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco and marvel at the beauty of the San Francisco coast. From our vantage point we can see gorgeous cliffs, a little sandy beach down below, and a skyline of ocean punctuated by the Golden Gate Bridge. We make our way up to the front of the museum and find Brad and Christie, friends we haven't seen in over seven months (thanks in no small part to all of the wedding craziness that was). None of us has ever been to this museum before, and we thoroughly enjoy getting lost amongst the Parisian art, Japanese illustrated books, china, mummies, and sculptures.

After the museum, we head down the road to a wonderful dinner at Aziza. Good friends, good food - what more could you ask for?

September 19, 2010

It's 9 am on Sunday. Alex and I head out from our house for a 20-mile run through the Baylands. The weather is perfect, and the flat run feels much better than last week's hills.

Though there is no hand holding during the run, I appreciate Alex's take on running together, which makes for three dates in three days.

(Thanks to the friends and family who shared such a wonderful weekend with us.)