Niece in the House, Day 3
Having spent yesterday at the animal prison, we took a trip today to the erstwhile people’s prison. We BARTed to Embarcadero station and then, as has become the custom, walked all the way along the the Embarcadero to Pier 41. When my nephews and nieces come to visit, damn it, I make them walk.
As I think I mentioned before this was my umpteenth time to Alcatraz in the last seven years, so I decided to save myself a few bucks by not paying for the audio tour for myself. I figures that whilst CL and her boyfriend took the proper tour, I could just sit down in the dining hall—tip! It’s the one place in the prison where you can set a spell!—and read a book. Unfortunately, the one thing I forgot to bring with me was a book. I sat down and stared out the bars across the bay for a while, then switched to staring at the tourists looking out through the bars across the bay. Then I remembered that I had my cell phone with me, so I decided to see if it got a signal. It did! I’m sure she found that completely cryptic when she heard it. It seemed like Baby Dog was probably napping by then, so I called Mama Dog, and we chatted a while. She had to go, so I called Avenuu in New Orleans and got her answering machine. I left a message: “Hi, it’s Papa Dog. I’m at Alcatraz, but I forgot to bring a book, so I figured I’d call you. ‘Bye.” Then I remembered that it was Saturday, the day when I normally call my parents, so I did that. I told them I was at Alcatraz, calling from a cell on my cell. They didn’t get it.
After we escaped from Alcatraz, we made the obligatory stop to gawk at the sea lions, and I ducked out to The Fudge House to get Mama Dog a caramel apple, which is a familial tradition I don’t see any point in explaining any further. Not finished with dessert, we headed on to Ghirardelli square, thence to enjoy the World-Famous Hot Fudge Sundaes.
I was bearing up well under all the walking, but it was the wait for the cable car that did me in. We stood in line for epochs, and that miserable yellow ball of puke in sky was burning down all the while. I think all the sunburn I suffered during the day happened in the period when we were waiting for four cable car loads to board before we could get on. On the plus side, we got to listen to some lame street musician playing Stairway to Heaven on an electric guitar (and Walk Don’t Run not once but twice). At no point did anybody in the crowd applaud, but he incorporated that into his act. He’d finish a song to dead silence, then say “Thank you for not overreacting.” It was kind of funny.
Home again home again. We got back to the house just as Baby and Mama returned from a stroll. We entertained Baby while Mama Dog went off for a well-deserved pedicure. We ordered pizza from a place that has yet to earn my wrath, then Mama Dog gave Baby Dog a bath and put her to bed while the rest of us took one more walk, this time around the neighbourhood with Doggy Dog. We spent the rest of the evening sprawled in the living room, talking, exhausted, but too tired to get up and go to bed.
Now everybody else has turned in, but I had to stay up and blog. So goodnight again.
As I think I mentioned before this was my umpteenth time to Alcatraz in the last seven years, so I decided to save myself a few bucks by not paying for the audio tour for myself. I figures that whilst CL and her boyfriend took the proper tour, I could just sit down in the dining hall—tip! It’s the one place in the prison where you can set a spell!—and read a book. Unfortunately, the one thing I forgot to bring with me was a book. I sat down and stared out the bars across the bay for a while, then switched to staring at the tourists looking out through the bars across the bay. Then I remembered that I had my cell phone with me, so I decided to see if it got a signal. It did! I’m sure she found that completely cryptic when she heard it. It seemed like Baby Dog was probably napping by then, so I called Mama Dog, and we chatted a while. She had to go, so I called Avenuu in New Orleans and got her answering machine. I left a message: “Hi, it’s Papa Dog. I’m at Alcatraz, but I forgot to bring a book, so I figured I’d call you. ‘Bye.” Then I remembered that it was Saturday, the day when I normally call my parents, so I did that. I told them I was at Alcatraz, calling from a cell on my cell. They didn’t get it.
After we escaped from Alcatraz, we made the obligatory stop to gawk at the sea lions, and I ducked out to The Fudge House to get Mama Dog a caramel apple, which is a familial tradition I don’t see any point in explaining any further. Not finished with dessert, we headed on to Ghirardelli square, thence to enjoy the World-Famous Hot Fudge Sundaes.
I was bearing up well under all the walking, but it was the wait for the cable car that did me in. We stood in line for epochs, and that miserable yellow ball of puke in sky was burning down all the while. I think all the sunburn I suffered during the day happened in the period when we were waiting for four cable car loads to board before we could get on. On the plus side, we got to listen to some lame street musician playing Stairway to Heaven on an electric guitar (and Walk Don’t Run not once but twice). At no point did anybody in the crowd applaud, but he incorporated that into his act. He’d finish a song to dead silence, then say “Thank you for not overreacting.” It was kind of funny.
Home again home again. We got back to the house just as Baby and Mama returned from a stroll. We entertained Baby while Mama Dog went off for a well-deserved pedicure. We ordered pizza from a place that has yet to earn my wrath, then Mama Dog gave Baby Dog a bath and put her to bed while the rest of us took one more walk, this time around the neighbourhood with Doggy Dog. We spent the rest of the evening sprawled in the living room, talking, exhausted, but too tired to get up and go to bed.
Now everybody else has turned in, but I had to stay up and blog. So goodnight again.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 10:30 PM
1 Comments:
Busy day for you! Sounds like a good time, even if you forgot the book!
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