13

It is not a secret and I am not being poetic by writing that birthdays come and go. We all have our rituals, some rituals include not having any at all. Regardless of how you feel about that particular day, whether you treat it like any other day or you advertise it for weeks to come to anyone who will acknowledge, at the end of the day it is special, if not to you then to those closest to you.

My other half was born a XXVII years ago yesterday and we started our celebration with a professional massage in our cottage in the last hours of our Napa experience.

Nice way to finish up a relaxing week! Armed with five days of new memories and experiences we left Napa and set out for San Francisco, where we intended to add to the aforementioned experiences.

Part of the "experience" was getting turned around on HWY 101, after finally making it to our hotel we decided to head down to Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf. The sights and sounds and smells were much of what I remembered. Outside of being located on the Bay, there isn't anything unique about either attraction. Tourist traps with overpriced shops and restaurants, not unlike the Statue of Liberty or Navy Pier the London Eye. The best part of both are the Sea Lions sun bathing and the presence that looms 2000+ feet off the pier (ALCATRAZ).

The main event of the evening was a trip to Chef Hubert Keller's Fleur de Lys. I try to keep a good prespective of all things, it helps keep me grounded. Just as the food was incredible, so was the experience. My lovely bride looked beautiful, the conversation flowed almost as well as the wine. We couldn't help but over hear conversations about heart surgery to our left and legal proceedings to our right both had the same snobby nose in air annunciation. Before I knew it we were on to the fourth course and our evening was just about over.

The host had informed me in an earlier phone conversation that the restaurant in fact had a valet parking. I was thrilled, especially after paying for parking at the Pier "yikes". Upon exiting the restaurant, I flipped the attendant ten dollars, promptly thanked him and proceeded to ask him for directions. After accommodating my request, the attendant, very politely informed me that the parking cost $13 and he only needs three more. With a quick apology and chuckle, I trade him a twenty and drive off humbled.

That is probably the first thing that will come to mind when reminiscing about the time we went to the fancy french restaurant with the army of servers and arrogant clientele.

I wouldn't have it any other way, helps with the prespective.