Today is Sunday, my last day as a San Diegan, and I'm spending the 9 o'clock hour in a familiar spot: one of those shitty little wobbly tables in the sideroom at Cafe 976.
Last day because Monday begins not only my 25th year, but also a 2-month American Road Trip through Phoenix, Dallas, Houston, New Orleans, Pensacola, Jacksonville, Savannah, Charleston, Atlanta, Athens, Charlotte, Chapel Hill, Charlottesville, DC, Baltimore, New York, New Haven, Boston, Cape Cod, Ithaca, Buffalo, Ann Arbor, Chicago, Madison, St Paul, Keystone, Cheyenne, Boulder, Denver, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Carmel, Big Sur, Santa Barbara, LA, and Newport Beach, San Diego....
If you live in one of these places, and you're down to say hello, show off your town a little, drink a little, chat a bit (ya know, friend stuff)... please please contact me! I will certainly need friends, directions, companions, dinner recs, and places to crash.
I will come bearing gifts from highway gift shops (yay! the randomest shit ever!) and stories (just wait) and goodwill (beers, anyone?), and will at the very least promise to pay your friendliness forward...
Anyway. 976 is a little coffeehouse in Pacific Beach where locals and tourists, students and grandparents, emo kids and surfers eat acai bowls and drink coffee and read newspapers and sometimes play Connect Four (kid chess). Aside from the shitty tables, which are small and wobbly, place is great. The coffee, food, staff, and music... all on point.
And the scene is so unmistakably SoCal. Outside, BMW's are looking for parking. Guys are riding bikes with longboards under their arms (tried this once, ate shit). Inside, waitresses wearing t-shirts and Vans. Jack Johnson is on the stereo, acoustic. Etnies entrepreneurs (my term, meaning business dudes in surfer gear) working their laptops, blackberries and WSJs.
There's Ryan Dunn (beard guy), the bus-boy / beach bum / philosopher who always makes a point to say hello and drop a deep thought on me. There's a group of three girls, all with MacBooks and Kappa Kappa Gamma hoodies, laughing at what must be inside jokes. There is a mom feeding her baby oatmeal, baby is not a fan.
I could sit, and have sat, at a table such as this for hours on end, reading, writing, watching the day unfold. People are chatting, laughing, relaxing, enjoying life and freetime one another. Gotta love Sunday in San Diego...
My nostalgic moment is interrupted by a text telling me that Brian and Robby are doing breakfast at Cantina (next door, rich man's 976) for breakfast in 5. I'm in.
As I'm leaving, Hunter J walks in, we exchange hellos, weekend updates...
HJ: When do you leave?
JL: Tomorrow dude.
HJ: No. Seriously? (looks around outside, perfect day out, wonders why in the hell someone voluntarily leave this)
JL: Seriously dude (look around, wonder why in the hell I'm leaving tomorrow when school doesn't start til August).
HJ: Road trip man, that's... (tough? stupid? what people did in the 50's, like before commercial airplanes?)... that's great.
BOTH: All the best / keep in touch / see ya soon / have a blast.
We hug it out, and I head next door.
Tomorrow, the mountains and desert and asphalt. But today, friends and food and a little sun on my face. And why not? It's Sunday in San Diego.
1 comment:
Great stuff buddy. Just an FYI, you are actually getting ready to begin your 26th year. The way it has always been explained to me is when you are 1, you have completed your 1st year and are beginning your 2nd. so you have completed your 25th and are beginning your 26th.
Proud of you for taking on such a cool adventure. Safe travels and hope this message finds you well.
Best Regards,
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