Just getting back after 4 days in San Francisco and the surrounding area.
It was a first for many things: my first trip alone with Zev, his first trip aboard a plane, my first time in Santa Cruz. But, San Francisco is a pretty familiar place for me, thanks to Blake.
We have been visiting him there for the past 12 years, and I am always amazed at the things that you can learn when you happen to travel just 400 miles north. It's a different world up there, especially when you're tooling around in a biodiesel-powered Jetta with a chef with new dreadlocks and a herniated disc.
We drove to Capitola, CA on Monday after we had lunch with Blake's mom in Palo Alto. Capitola is a completely pleasant beach town 4 miles south of Santa Cruz. It is the new home to my friends Mimi and Matthew who were formerly residents of the Green Gulch Zen Buddhist monastery/farming community. They spent the last 10 years in and out of monasteries and community houses. Now they've made the bold move into the world of single family dwellings and dual cellphones. They're keeping it real by only allowing technology into their home that is at least 10+ years old. We listened to loads of cassettes. We waited a good 20 minutes to look something up online on their huge, vintage PC. Blake commented on how he liked that they kept the TV screen and computer monitor covered in scarves. I think they only uncover the television/VCR combo if they have a particularly good video to watch. Over dinner, Matthew wondered if we had heard of a certain playboy bunny who recently died in the Bahamas leaving behind a baby worth hundreds of millions. I think he read about it in some news journal. This is what you can attain after dozens of month-long silent retreats. When you re-enter the world of You-Tube and Entertainment Tonight, it takes a Zen warrior to be so distantly plugged in. As always, we had a good time.
Zev loves those two, and I could really get used to having 3 extra friends with me at all times.
Tuesday morning, Matthew and Mimi took off from work, so we could chill and head up to Santa Cruz. We wound up at a bakery for breakfast. Blake and I started our day off with pie - Olallaberry pie, in fact. I used that as a benchmark to describe the rest of our day. Santa Cruz was far more upscale than I had hoped it would be. It seems that very few places along the California coast haven't gone upscale.
We met up with a vegetarian friend later when we got back to S.F. at one of our favorite places that we hate to love - a particularly self-righteous restaurant in the Mission called Cafe Gratitude. It left veganism in the dust years ago. Those vegans might as well be working for Halliburton. These raw foodies run around in a way not too different from those on Crystal Meth. They feel obligated to display their raw abundant energy at every opportunity, shouting out the affirmations on the menu and hugging their favorite hirsute waitress. I find that meat and caffeine gives me all I need, but hats off to them.
Gratitude serves up 100% vegan food which is never heated above 145 degrees. A lot of dehydration is the key, and I'm picking up a dehydrator that I found on CraigsList tomorrow morning in Burbank. The dishes all have names that will make you wince. Blake and I ordered up the "I am Accepting (stir un-fry)" which consists of a rice-like material fashioned from dehydrated parsnips, celery root and pine nuts. We also split a pizza that Gratitude calls "I am Sensational"- delicious, especially if you like Brazil nut parmesan cheese and cashew ricotta. My iced tea had some kind of essential oils in it. I almost got kicked out when I asked for a straw. I can understand people who loathe this place and all it stands for (Blake's girlfriend, for one), but the food is goddamn delicious. Going raw is going to be cooler than going Brazilian. That's my prediction anyway.
And, so it goes.
We talked about books we'd read but more about books we haven't read. We drank excessive amounts of coffee and very little water. We tried to assemble a playpen without reading the directions and realized that Jews can't wing it when it comes to assembling furniture of any kind. We both wore clothing stained with infant vomit, thanks to Zev. We somehow made it through the entire trip with one shower a piece. Showering, much like cooked food is merely an option.
It was a first for many things: my first trip alone with Zev, his first trip aboard a plane, my first time in Santa Cruz. But, San Francisco is a pretty familiar place for me, thanks to Blake.
We have been visiting him there for the past 12 years, and I am always amazed at the things that you can learn when you happen to travel just 400 miles north. It's a different world up there, especially when you're tooling around in a biodiesel-powered Jetta with a chef with new dreadlocks and a herniated disc.
We drove to Capitola, CA on Monday after we had lunch with Blake's mom in Palo Alto. Capitola is a completely pleasant beach town 4 miles south of Santa Cruz. It is the new home to my friends Mimi and Matthew who were formerly residents of the Green Gulch Zen Buddhist monastery/farming community. They spent the last 10 years in and out of monasteries and community houses. Now they've made the bold move into the world of single family dwellings and dual cellphones. They're keeping it real by only allowing technology into their home that is at least 10+ years old. We listened to loads of cassettes. We waited a good 20 minutes to look something up online on their huge, vintage PC. Blake commented on how he liked that they kept the TV screen and computer monitor covered in scarves. I think they only uncover the television/VCR combo if they have a particularly good video to watch. Over dinner, Matthew wondered if we had heard of a certain playboy bunny who recently died in the Bahamas leaving behind a baby worth hundreds of millions. I think he read about it in some news journal. This is what you can attain after dozens of month-long silent retreats. When you re-enter the world of You-Tube and Entertainment Tonight, it takes a Zen warrior to be so distantly plugged in. As always, we had a good time.
Zev loves those two, and I could really get used to having 3 extra friends with me at all times.
Tuesday morning, Matthew and Mimi took off from work, so we could chill and head up to Santa Cruz. We wound up at a bakery for breakfast. Blake and I started our day off with pie - Olallaberry pie, in fact. I used that as a benchmark to describe the rest of our day. Santa Cruz was far more upscale than I had hoped it would be. It seems that very few places along the California coast haven't gone upscale.
We met up with a vegetarian friend later when we got back to S.F. at one of our favorite places that we hate to love - a particularly self-righteous restaurant in the Mission called Cafe Gratitude. It left veganism in the dust years ago. Those vegans might as well be working for Halliburton. These raw foodies run around in a way not too different from those on Crystal Meth. They feel obligated to display their raw abundant energy at every opportunity, shouting out the affirmations on the menu and hugging their favorite hirsute waitress. I find that meat and caffeine gives me all I need, but hats off to them.
Gratitude serves up 100% vegan food which is never heated above 145 degrees. A lot of dehydration is the key, and I'm picking up a dehydrator that I found on CraigsList tomorrow morning in Burbank. The dishes all have names that will make you wince. Blake and I ordered up the "I am Accepting (stir un-fry)" which consists of a rice-like material fashioned from dehydrated parsnips, celery root and pine nuts. We also split a pizza that Gratitude calls "I am Sensational"- delicious, especially if you like Brazil nut parmesan cheese and cashew ricotta. My iced tea had some kind of essential oils in it. I almost got kicked out when I asked for a straw. I can understand people who loathe this place and all it stands for (Blake's girlfriend, for one), but the food is goddamn delicious. Going raw is going to be cooler than going Brazilian. That's my prediction anyway.
And, so it goes.
We talked about books we'd read but more about books we haven't read. We drank excessive amounts of coffee and very little water. We tried to assemble a playpen without reading the directions and realized that Jews can't wing it when it comes to assembling furniture of any kind. We both wore clothing stained with infant vomit, thanks to Zev. We somehow made it through the entire trip with one shower a piece. Showering, much like cooked food is merely an option.
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