Monday, May 25, 2009
A Heart is a Terrible Thing to Waste
Dear San Francisco,
One day, you're going to write a post card to me. I'm going to be opening my mailbox and in between the offers for a free dinner at Outback and a fabulous deal on any GMC car of my choice, there'll be a note from you.
It's time. I've got a place for you to live and a job for you.
And I'll look around for hidden film crews, but they won't be there. I'll go back to my house, clean out the cat carriers, pack the cats, the clothes, the computers, and say good-bye at last to Arizona.
It's not the right time yet, but it will be one day. I will call from the corner of Castro and Market and say, "Yeah, Prescott? I'm not coming back. Thanks for it all. But you know, the sky in Arizona has always scared me. And you know, the lack of a true urban center in Phoenix has always disappointed me. And you know, my artistic soul languishes in a land of cheap Kokopelli charms and turquoise coyote statues and cowboy poetry. Thanks, though. See ya next time around."
It's not the right time yet. But it will be one day.
Me at Union Square
Keith, me, and our "son" Keezel the Green Monkey God at Ocean Beach
Keith and I at Yerba Buena Gardens before we visited MOMA
Fan-tabulous Victorians on Haight & Masonic
My friend from a zillion years ago, Dex, who is happy and fabulous in the Castro
Me in front of, dare I say it, the 6 FLOOR MACY'S in Union Square
And, who we didn't get to see, my friend Jeffrey, who I hope was watching us from that great gay bar in the sky. We drank a toast to you, and honey, I shopped! Keep the light on for me.