Going away is nice … it really is. I love travel and seeing new places. All the same, I’m always happy when the plane touches down in San Francisco. I don’t live in the city itself, but it’s still one of my favorite places: the place where I met my husband, where we dated and fell in love, where we got married.
In the novel Brideshead Revisited, there’s a scene where the two primary characters are on an idyllic outing in the English countryside. Sebastian says, “Just the place to bury a crock of gold. I should like to bury something precious in every place where I’ve been happy and then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up and remember.” That’s sort of how I feel about San Francisco. I’ve got pots of gold buried all over this beautiful place.
Tony Bennett would obviously agree. (The song itself needs no introduction; the video is something I’ve seen several times on our local PBS station. Hula dancers are not a usual feature of life in San Francisco, but they sure are graceful.)