Day 4--San Francisco

Got up at dawn to move my car that took me freakin' 45 minutes to park and had to park 7 blocks away at a meter, legal, but oh so moveable. Drove to Safeway to buy provisions for my Good Friday party.

Later walked with daughter to Mission Dolores. Bribed her with Starbucks to attend the Good Friday service with me. It was interesting in Spanish and English with the collection walking to the 5000 never ending stations of the cross. Loved the spanish singing, "Senor, misericordia" So much suffering and misery, what a Good Friday!

Spent the afternoon preparing for my Good Friday party, traditional crucifixion foods. I went with Middle Eastern (what else). Actually most of the food was take-out from a kabob place around the corner. To make it complicated I decided to re-write a passion play about the death of Christ. I didn't have a printer or time to go to the Fed Ex formerly known as Kinko's so I went upstairs to the landlords and learned a terrible dark secret. The gorgeous place that we were renting from them was made possible only by them living in hell upstairs. Truly. Their whole life is devoted to making the downstairs awesome. Upstairs it is like some scary backstage maids' quarters from hell. It reminded me of a short story I once read called The ones who walked away from Omeloskwhere this seemingly Utopian society depends on a small boy being trapped in a cage living in his own filth. It sort of harshed the mellow of the gorgeous and perfect quarters downstairs. It underscores my cardinal rule. Unless you're in the play, never never go backstage.

Speaking of the play, we did put it on, shouting, "Crucify him!" at the right times. It was fabulous and we topped it off by relishing the chocolate crosses that I had brought back from the Catholic holy land of Buffalo, NY. Sadly, no chocolate crucifixes could be found, only crosses, but they sufficed!