San Francisco to Coeur d'Alene

May has so far brought with it some travel to two places I most enjoy in the Western U.S., San Francisco and Coeur d'Alene.

Both Grace, one of my BFFs, and San Francisco treated me divinely. She picked me up the evening of May 1, which was definitely a good day to leave Seattle with all the labor protests and what have you. We went directly to her favorite Russian Hill watering hole, Bar Johnny, a newer swanky lounge and restaurant. The interior was designed by the deliciously talented Swallowtail, which also has a phenomenal retail presence on Polk Street, which is the place to be if you're a trendy thirty something breeder in The City.

We enjoyed a couple cocktails, actually make that three since the bartender bought our third round. The chef brought us out a fresh summer salad to sample, a new dish he had been working on. The dressing was delicious as were the field greens, cucumbers, grated carrots, strawberries and pistaccios. We advised him to cool it on the red onions, and my biggest note to him was to use endive vs. field greens. Not only did he agree, but that was his initial thought as they would have paired best with the fresh strawberries. The only problem was that he uses only fresh, locally-grown, organic ingredients whenever possible (a growing trend among top culinary talent). Unfortunately endive isn't yet in season. Heck, what do I know?

Anyway, the following day, Friday, included a trip to the Boulangerie and Pete's coffee (Grace's favorite morning beverage). Afterward we readied ourselves for somewhat of a reunion lunch with a couple of my close college comrades, Jay and Alice, at a place Jay recommended in the Mission called Spork. Wasn't too sure what to expect. After all, it is the Mission and Spork has all kinds of grade school cafeteria connotations. I was very pleasantly surprised how modern, chic, delicious and inexpensive this place was. They are well known for their perfect hamburger. Jay, also a blogger, has had 17 of them to date and his goal is 25 before he moves to Brazil this summer. I had the carnitas, and I haven't had 'em that good since Mexico. Of course they had a bit of a neuvo Americana twist to them, which made them that much more delicious. Jay also introduced me to an outstanding beer called St. Peter's out of England. That was a real treat.

After an enjoyable visit with my ol' pals, it was off to Nordstrom to return Grace's Sunday best and find her the right dress for her Goddaughter's Christening. This is an event that also coincided with somewhat of a reunion for Grace, coming face-to-face with her most recent ex, who is also her Goddaughter's uncle, who she hasn't seen since she left him in NYC at the very tail end of last year. Both the aforementioned events were the underlying purpose for my San Francisco trip, though I don't need much of a reason to visit The City and one of my very best of friends.

We arrived at Nordstrom with the ensemble a sale woman had helped Grace select. It looked more cocktailesque, and the waistline on the jacket fell just below her breasts. It wasn't the go-to dress, so we needed to rectify this, stat. We roamed the floor for about a half hour with iced coffees in hand. We picked out a few dresses that looked much more appropriate. Of course the same sales woman was there as well as a bit nervous that she didn't find exactly the right ensemble to send Grace off to the Christening in. It was new, and nice, but it didn't flatter her in the slightest.

The sales woman asked us what would be more appropriate. We explained the nature of the event and I specifically requested slightly more earthy garments. Meanwhile Grace went off to powder her nose and the sales woman came back with a smattering of dresses. The first was a horrible knit sweater dress with diamond shaped fields of fading browns. I quickly turned up my nose at it. The next several looked like they came from the women's department at a sporting goods store. I told the woman we were going to a Christening, not crocodile hunting. The very last dress was this smouldering Hugo Boss number. Dark, smokey gray and chocolate brown color. It seemed to have cut lines in all the right places. We threw it in the mix, and might I say Grace looked amazing when she stepped out in it. It was pricey but perfect.

Before we left, the sales woman asked what I was getting out of the dress hunt, whether it be lunch or cocktails. I told her it was just for the pure satisfaction that my dearest friend was going to look and feel her very best.

Friday night in The City held a very special experience for me. After we returned to Grace's Russian Hill flat, we uncorked some bubbly and had a light nibble. Afterward we headed over to Peter's. He's a friend of Grace's friends, and on a weekly basis they have a dinner party at his incredible apartment, the most fabulous I have ever seen in The City.

On our way, two of the other dinner party guests flagged us down from Bar Johnny's. We joined them for one before dinner drink and then cabbed it several blocks over to Peter's. His building was out of a novel set in old New York. Huge, beautiful old world brick building with a marble foyer. The elevators were very deco, featuring a sliding cage door that had to be closed before the lift would move.

Peter's place was out of this world! He lives in a palatial two bedroom apartment with formal entry, dining room, living room, butler's pantry, etc. The mill work was unreal; insanely ornate and absolutely pristine. Best of all he has a stunning view of the city as well as the bay and Golden Gate Bridge.

Upon arrival we were offered some more bubbly as well as some very well grown reefer. While Peter and Grace prepped dinner in the kitchen, the other two gals and I sat in the living room and chatted while taking in the most beautiful red sun sinking into the ocean behind the Golden Gate Bridge. The scene was completely surreal. I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And if I were, I didn't ever want to wake up!

Dinner was, of course, amazing. Peter is a skilled chef. That night he was celebrating the signing of a lease for a restaurant space on Fifth and Market adjacent to Union Square.

The next morning we picked up coffee and Grace's softball gal pal. They had a double header in Marin County. I spectated, and what sights there were to see. The men in their league, which is composed mostly of Bay Area marketing and advertising execs, were scorching hot! As was the weather that day North of The City. I had on completely the wrong attire, so Grace snagged me one of the team's T-Shirts. Their team is called Four Play. The logo on the back was purposely intended to resemble the K-Y brand with the following tag line: "Slide into home."

After the games we found ourselves sunbathing on the waterfront patio at Sam's in Tiburon. This is one of mine and Grace's favorite spots. It's the place to see and be seen. My oh my was there a lot to look at. Mmmm ...

Unfortunately someone fed me a couple of tequila shots, and it was all downhill from there. Grace dragged my ass back to The City where we spent a pleasant night in watching old Strangers With Candy episodes that I brought with me on DVD. We grabbed a late night slice or two and then hit the hay.

The following morning we arrived to help dress baby Orlaith Mae for her Christening, armed with fresh baked pastries along with a refreshing, summer salad (one of my favorites) and a very special crostini I brought with me from Pike Place that we slathered with Beecher's blank slate honey cheese and topped with a tangy strawberry rhubarb jam. Of course we would be remiss if we didn't also furnish a nice bottle of white for this afternoon's reception. What can we say other than we're big fans of fine food and wine.

Grace's ex, we'll call him Moron since he's a big one for ever letting her get away, was a complete douche bag to me the first part of the day. Then I just sort of tuned him out. Clearly he was pissed off that I was there to support his lovely ex, making him appear more like the asshole he is. Bygones.

The Christening was held at the beautifully historic Mission Dolores, the oldest cathedral in San Francisco, founded in 1776. I could barely hear the priest over the hordes of rowdy rug rats running a muck, climbing over seats and horsing around in the aisle. I sound like an old curmudgeon, but I was a bit shocked parents would allow their children to act up during a religious ceremony.

After our day of ritual, gathering and celebration, Grace treated me to an early evening at El Rio. On Sunday nights it's where all the gays go to salsa dance on an outdoor patio to the saucy beats of a live salsa band. It was very festive and nice to have an ice cold refreshing beer or three to take the edge off of having to put our best feet forward all day long.

The following weekend was a complete juxtaposition to San Francisco. I drove my 92 year old grandmother and my aunt to see my mom in Coeur d'Alene for Mother's Day. After only two days I was completely exhausted. My dear grandmother is barely able to get around much on her own. She also gets very confused and requires a lot of extra attention. She's fussy about everything.

It's very challenging to see those we love deteriorate. The lady I remember as my grandmother always wore a smile on her face, was always laughing and joyful. She is also very wise, always advising me that "only time will tell." She is the one person in my life who has always loved and accepted me for exactly who I am. She has always been my greatest ally, wanting nothing more than my every happiness. Sadly, while I know deep in her heart of hearts she's still there, most of her has become something else, preparing for her life's departure and it's next journey through the cosmos.

Coeur d'Alene is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I looked so forward to and savored my lakeside morning runs in solitude. The dark green hills around the lake were still white capped from an above average winter of snowfall. A mountain crisp chill in the air concurred that spring had not fully awaken from it's long winter slumber. The lake was glassy still and the town also seemed motionless yet peaceful.

I would be remiss if I didn't observe the juxtaposition between the celebration of new life as well as the observation of those who gave life and those who are nearing the end of it; all over two weekends at vastly different places in the American West. From the hustle of bustling San Francisco to the quaint, natural charm of little Coeur d'Alene.

The pendulum of life does swing back and forth. Life has a certain melody. To hear it, one must pause on occasion to experience the blank space between the notes. Life also has a poetic harmony, one that may take an entire lifetime to be in tune with ...