WEEKENDERS : Family, Friends, and Good Times
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Ah, yes - by now, if you regularly view these pages, you know that I have a tendency to show you pictures of going out clubbing or on some sort of trip. Not this time. Because what you see below is all I remember of going to see DJ Baby Anne in San Francisco on a nice spring night...

Once again, on the left, my recollection of that Friday night... Only kidding, of course. I had forgotten my camera, which is some sort of cardinal sin. Alas, I'm sure everybody can use the break from all the clubby pictures. At any rate, when the buzz eventually wore off the next day, I realized it was nice enough out to declare it a barbecue day! Indeed, what sort of sunny day would it be without backyards all around the neighborhood with a fired-up, brightly colored Weber smoking away? You know, anytime people warned me back in my younger days that I'd be flipping burgers for a living, I took it as a compliment.

Some days, there's nothing like throwing some fresh flesh and veggies over white-hot mesquite while throwing back a few cold ones. Breathing in those fumes is an added bonus that you just can't get while hovering over an electric range. That's the thing about mesquite smoke - it can get pretty overwhelming...

...to the point that you have to launder your clothes and your pets to get the smell out. (Or is my mom's Asian-ness going overboard and she's getting ready to grill Peeshee?) Speaking of which, Mom had fun grilling some filet that Vince brought over. That's the great thing about BBQ - people always bring stuff. Most of the time, V just stood back waiting - he probably summed it up best by saying that what makes BBQ fun is the anticipation. He's spot-on. But then, the seared flesh is pretty damn good, too.

By nightfall, I was already exhausted from smoke inhalation and malt beverage consumption. But Mike was insistent on meeting up with some Internet friends of his, so we made our way up to Yancy's Saloon in the Sunset for a bit of that Irish Pub vibe. You know you're at a genuine pub when they have no clue what half the mixed drinks are made of, and they take five minutes to pour a Guinness at the proper temperature.

Naturally, with or without the Guinness, none of us were very good at darts. (Draughts?) Although V's rapidfire technique proved to work pretty well. And me? Well, despite my three bull's eyes, I'm apparently better at striking what the young lady at the board next to us called the "Trading Card Pose" than striking the board itself. Not wanting to get sloppy - and jonesing for some food - we bade farewell to the message board dwellers. On the way out, we passed by this pizza joint that looks so cool and New Yorky - surly looking Paisans and all - that we're definitely going to have to hit it next time we go to Yancy's... Until then, cheers!