Father's Day
This year's was fantastic. Even better than the year we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant and saw Shaft. Me and pops did a tour of the East Bay (Oakland, Berkeley, etc etc) and I took him on a hike through a landfill.
But not just any landfill, but a mini island-like spot just north of Berkeley filled with local art and homeless encampments. It's a place that I've been hearing about a while previous to this father's day, and I could only imagine in my head before. It was so much better in real life.
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To the right, notice the castle with views of Bay including both the GG and Bay Bridge. Someone is currently sleeping there in a sleeping bag.
Dad's comment:
"Wow, lots a...lots a penises spray-painted on this thing."
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There were a lot of statues made of scrap metal. Some looked like Burning Man rejects, while some looked like god was playing pick-up sticks with bicycles.
Dad's comment: "Hey honey, take a picture of me posing like a hobo next to this jesus statue!"
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There were a lot of areas that looked very lived-in, where folks obviously must have been loungin' and loiterin' about. I thought it was very Lost Boys--I could just imagine vampire street punks drinking and carrying on all over this place.
Dad's comment: "Wow, I bet there's been many a hellacious acid trip taken at this place!"
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A side note, we also talked a bit about Tim Russert, and I've been seeing a lot of coverage of this man's life--about what a passionate family man he was, and the book he wrote about his father.
One newscaster, quoting a review of the book, said something on CNN or some such that brought a tear to my eye, it was something like:
"Some men have a hard time embracing their fathers in public, Tim Russert did it over the course of several chapters."
Sigh.
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