A GENERIC SUNSET

It's an impossibility. Every sunset is unique. Maybe it's because of the one(s) you're with. Your mood. God's splendor. But there has never been a generic, run of the mill sunset. Even on bad, bad days.

Why this one is generic (and as I just ascertained, none are) is that it came from a computer I'm borrowing this week. From a very nice English lady in the Internet Cafe who warned me, "Don't wear off me keys playing FarmVille with it."

You see, we're cruising for the 17th time. This one takes us to Santa Barbara, San Francisco, Astoria, Seattle, Victoria, and Vancouver. Not as long as some, but also not as short as some that we have had the pleasure to take.

Today found us passing under The Golden Gate Bridge at 8 AM. Cold winds, cloudy skies tried to dampen our spirits, but we're a hearty bunch of cruisers, even though on this particular Princess cruise, I'm afraid there are relatively few who would qualify as Princesses. Like most cruisers, a lot would like to think themselves queens, duchesses, or some kind of aristocracy.

But The Bridge (with an apology to David McCullough who is enamored by the Brooklyn Bridge) is an engineering marvel stuck smack into some perfect weather to give surreal photo ops. As we are presently docked before leaving this evening at 10 PM, I've been able to observe The Bridge for the past two hours outside our starboard side room with a view and the various changing hues and subtleties that the SF weather, changeable as some junior high school girls I seem to remember, offer.

A combination of low white clouds and the positioning of a four o'clock sun have taken the golden out of the bridge and left it a dull gray color. I'm not sure golden is its color anyhow; I'd have called it brick. But there's something blase about the Brick Gate Bridge, so Golden is better if not accurate.

Of course we went to Fisherman's Wharf and Boudin's for clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl. Well, except for my wife who opted for chili in the same kind of bowl since she suffers from an unfair allergy to shell fish. But heavy rain and cold, the same allergy sufferer wore four shirts under a jacket today, sent us back to the ship after a 15 minute walk and 30 minute trolley ride.

But we'd seen SF before and all its charms from Alcatraz to Chinatown to Lombard St to cable cars to Muir Woods, et. al, so as much as we like the city, we didn't mind not taking it all in again.

A final salvo from San Fran: I was nearly injured twice today. Once, on our way to the wharf when we were walking to the elevator a small ceiling encasement fell and nearly bopped me on the head like Fufu. When I made a joking comment that my wife had walked under it and shook the floor with her newly added cruise pounds, I could have been felt her Bunny Fufu wrath as well.

I promise to be nicer tomorrow, although it's a day at sea, so that may just give me plenty of opportunity for orneriness.