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The National Book Award for fiction went to Jonathan Franzen this year. Makes me wonder, was that just a little "fuck you" from the National Book Foundation to to those who are not proper members of the high-art literary tradition? Hmmmm. Regardless, I have to admire Franzen... he's clearly a lot savvier than I initially gave him credit for. No such thing as bad press and all.
But Franzen is not the only budding young genius in America today. Take Randy. Randy had a great idea this week. We're all going down to Santa Cruz and a place called Zelda's for breakfast Saturday morning. It's a bit far to go, but Randy pointed out that there's nothing better than coffee and cigarettes on a brisk Saturday morning by the ocean... except maybe if the coffee is served by attractive young women in small T-shirts. Who can argue with logic like that?
Perhaps I'll bring a chess set.
There is another place we all used to go to for a Long Breakfast -- Crepes on Cole, which just happens to be a crepes place on Cole St. in San Francisco. As a bonafide weenie South Bay person, I used to feel very cool driving up to San Francisco and twisting through all these side streets to get to this nice little restaurant. Of course, it was pretty crowded. Which meant it probably wasn't obscure or hip enough, but what the heck? It made me happy. I have low standards, and more importantly, so do my friends.
Problem is, I always let Pat drive. Which meant that last year, when Rachel and Ben were visiting, I tried to take them to Crepes on Cole. And you guessed it -- I missed a turn and we got lost. Bam! There went all my SF hipness, gone in a flash. Fortunately, after we goofed off most of the day, Rachel insisted that we drive the Golden Gate bridge. I was a bit dubious. But Ben was no help at all, and Rachel... well, let's just say that if that girl wants to cross a bridge, ain't nobody stoppin' her from crossing that bridge.
So we crossed the Golden Gate at sunset and the bridge performed on cue. Spectacular. San Francisco saves the day (and my hipness) once again! Although I could have sworn I heard it snickering as we drove out of the city. Or was that Rachel in the back seat? Hard to say.
Posted by Evan Goer on Nov. 15, 2001 at 2:45 PM
This entry was posted on November 15, 2001 by Evan Goer.
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