Love the San Francisco Bay Area

When I was interviewing for work in the Bay Area, my real estate agent and I had some good quality time together. He recently sold his rental and is sitting pretty with a lot of cash. He recently rewarded himself with a limited addition sports car so he took me up into the Berkeley hills in it.

From the Berkeley Hills, you can stare out over both the Berkeley and Oakland city lights and see the San Francisco Bay beyond. It's a magical view, something I'd strongly advise Notta to take her boyfriend to one night. Plus, Berkeley has some wonderful Italian, Asian, Ethiopian, and Indian restaurants. We had Italian that night because Italian is currently my favorite cuisine. My fav cuisine though changes about every six months.

I remember the big fire in the Berkeley Hills in the early 90s. One of my professors had his house and everything he owned burned to the ground. He showed up to work the next day and I asked him why he was here. "I got nowhere else to go," he said with a blank look on his face, then started his lecture.

My real estate agent took on a young assistant, who recently graduated college with a degree in English. He's wonderfully literate and a pleasure to talk to. I bugged him to read the Harry Potter series. He mentioned his favorite author but I forgot who it was, for we talked about everything from investments to refinishing bathtubs.

I sometimes regret not having any focus when I was his age, for I'd be rich today, but then I think about the level of partying I did then and the wonderful experiences I got out of it. I also did a lot of tutoring in those days, which got me into the local Native American community and learned culture and outdoor survival skills that no money can buy. Is experience worth more than money? I'm starting to realize it is.

On the way home, we took Port Chicago Highway. I was telling Vest about a city called Port Chicago that had the worst wartime accident in American history. Several hundred people were instantly blown up and years later, there were rumors that it was a nuclear accident, for both Little Boy and Big Man were stored nearby in the Concord Naval Weapons Station before being dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, respectively.

It's urban legend though, for the cancer rates went off the charts for Hiroshima survivors and folks who lived nearby. The cancer rates in Concord in the 40s and 50s were about the same as the rest of the country.

I'll do posts later on local history here. I know there's not a huge interest for it, but I love writing historical pieces, so it will be more for me and Tshsmom.

My real estate agent's new assistant and I talked about partners. No, not business partners but life mates. He's currently serious with a nice young woman. My two cents I gave him - loyalty. If she's not loyal, if she's not a team player, dump her. One thing that makes a relationship work long-term is that a relationship must be a cohesive unit. If one side thinks only about their needs and neglects the needs of the other, it won't work.

With that, it cemented how he feels about his girlfriend. He thinks she's the one. Good for him.

Lastly, it's Friday. One of the guys at my new work is a bass player, so we shared some musician jokes. Here they are. Have a wonderful weekend all. I'll be busy, so I won't be blogging, but will see you all next week.

Now for the musician jokes

What does a bass player use for birth control?

His personality.



What do you do when a drummer knocks on your door?

Take the pizza and pay him.



How do you keep a lead singer occupied for hours?

Give him a mirror.



And lastly, what do you call a guy who hangs around with a bunch of musicians?

A drummer.