Old School

1. So a bunch of us went out to celebrate April birthdays, and ended up at one of the classic 'old school' restaurants in SF. It is fitting that, Original Joe's, once an iconic landmark in the 'Tenderloin' district of the city, gutted by a fire which shut it down for four years, has risen from the ashes to reside in it's new locale, the old Fior d'Italia, at the corner of Union and Stockton. That's right, baby, come home to mama...North Beach. With it's signature red leather booths, tuxedo clad waiters, a menu laden with steaks, filets, veal Milanese, linguine Alfredo, a bar that was jammed, and an overflow crowd spilling onto the sidewalk, it was happening on that Friday night. The noise level was off the charts. I could not hear the conversation across the table. But who cared. It gets better, though. A long long time ago in grammar school, my best friend, was a gangly shy tomboyish girl like me. We were an odd couple. She was tall. And I was short. We made our first communion together, and played a parochial version of baseball with tennis balls which we hit with our fist out on the asphalt playground. When I was 11 I transferred to another school. We never wrote. We never made play dates. It was over. Until Friday night. She's the owner of Original Joe's. The evening was surreal. Nostalgic. And just as we were marshaling to leave, Francis F. Coppola walked in and sat 3 booths over from us. That, my friends, was a beautiful wrap.

2. The foie gras state ban in Cali is looming. Make it illegal, and a black market will rise.

3. The greatest 2 minutes in sports is this Saturday. The Kentucky Derby. Creative Cause, Daddy Nose Best, or Gemologist. And, Happy Birthday Alex! You da man.