A Jigger of Youth

Traveling in a mobile home, you tend to come into contact with other people of your particular status in life: retired, family grown, one dog, in other words, not 30. So it was a wonderful change to get to my son’s home in San Francisco and spend the day getting an infusion of youthful energy.

We arrived at 11:30, dropped off Zeus to play with Jeff’s dog Baloo, and immediately walked three blocks in the rain to Jeff’s favorite breakfast place. It was cozy, Christmassy, bustling, full of music, and young. In San Francisco, even the old people aren’t old. Women in their 70’s hang with friends in their 20’s. They go grey without second thoughts and wear jeans and sweatshirts and ponchos and hiking boots. The only person wearing makeup besides me was the waiter, and he looked prettier.

A great SF breakfast having been digested – “great” means with avocado – we took another walk in the rain, digressing a block or two to point out a couple of favorite stores, and headed back to the apartment for the tree-trimming party.

Jeff put out dip and cheeses and cookies. My son is a grownup! He hauled out the decorations, we clinked our beers, and the party was on. Jeff and his roommates Keith and Jill were there, along with a friend of Jill’s, Keith’s girlfriend Tina, their college buddy Kevin, and Stella the dog and her people pack of Pam and her husband Craig, who has worked with Jeff in three previous jobs. They are pregnant, and she told me about her plans to have a doula help her birth her baby. It’s a new world.

On the table, we put fresh candles out and lit them, setting up the Christmas cards, which I couldn’t help noticing were now about his friend’s children, a sure sign that time marches on. The tree, by the way, turned out great. And for the first time, decorating didn’t seem like work.

After the breakfast, and the cheese and the wine, and the party and the music, I was ready for my nap, but there were more activities planned. Keith, Jeff, John and I went to a new Sushi restaurant for dinner, and from there to a jazz club to see a favorite of Jeff’s. We drank port, soaked up some great riffs, yelled for the encore and went home totally satisfied. It was a long day, a happy day, a Jeff day, a Christmas day, a rainy day, a cozy day, a three-dog day, a young day.

Thanks. I needed that.
Betty