…will be again.” As construction of the new stretch of the Bay Bridge slowly but surely lumbers along these days, this impressive 1936 photograph almost seems it could have been taken this year. As with most else, history once more proves cyclical. The original completed bridge turns 75 tomorrow, having opened to traffic on the 12th of November. From past to present, what was most certainly will be.
The Sawyer Camp Trail
More than one year now after moving to San Francisco, and after a couple of decades of regularly visiting the area, I continue to be pleasantly surprised by the terrific bicycling routes upon which I stumble. Along with its distinct topographical characteristics triggering a mental journey to another region of the country altogether– Maryland, Illinois and Wisconsin come to mind– the Sawyer Camp Trail in San Mateo County presents a beautiful slice of nature conveniently close to the City. Plus, it’s reportedly one of the most popular stretches in the vicinity. Who knew? Answer: Everyone but me apparently, until now that is!
Starting at the north end, the trail’s 12-mile stretch round trip, combined with a loop through Crystal Springs and Hillsborough, yields a respectable and hilly 25-mile route altogether. This is of course just one of numerous options, another being to add in my nearby favorite Canada Road to Woodside. Suffice to say, the cycling space continues– in my own ongoing discovery anyway– to expand throughout the peninsula. I’m just surprised I didn’t discover Sawyer sooner, having been so close. Now to more that awaits!
On this day two years ago, to my great excitement, relative fear and mild disbelief, I became a motorcycle owner. Exactly one year later, as I wrote here in my debut blog post on November 1, 2010, those first 12 months had carried me 11,302 miles. On the purchase date of 11/1/09, my “new” motorcycle’s odometer read 6801. On 11/1/10, it read 18103. Today on this auspicious date of 11/1/11, coupled with my slightly different form of mild disbelief, the odometer reads 22681. It turns out these second 12 months have thrown me an underwhelming 4,578 miles of motorcycling distance, a mere 40 percent of the previous year’s amount.
Here's to "Two on Two!"
The mildly disbelieving part here is that I don’t feel I’ve been on my motorcycle any less in the second year than the first. After all, I use it almost everyday as a general form of transportation– granted, on the 7×7 tip of a peninsula for the most part. Obviously, compared to my riding all over L.A. last year, my current typical daily coverage area has been drastically reduced in 2011. No longer am I riding 50 miles in one direction just to have lunch; now it’s all about city stop-and go, save the very occasional jaunt to San Jose, Sacramento, Napa or for a couple special events a bit beyond. Altogether, the mileage just has not accumulated. Brake wear– well that’s another story.
The year-old tires remain unscathed, the brake pads and chain have been replaced, a few more passengers have had their spin, and the only thing my now-proven-faithful SV really needs on his birthday is a bath! As a relatively low-key Halloween passes into history, and while this blog today is one year old, I take this moment to mark a safe, educational and thankful “two on two.”
Now for the start of year three with yours truly in the saddle…
An "Epic" sip and nibble.
My next out-of-town visitor could be in for a treat, of sorts. The $5 “Sommeliers’ Selection” proves refreshingly drinkable, and while the delicious crab cake– or crab nugget as it could more appropriately be called– is a mere morsel, for only $3 who’s complaining? Order another one! For quantity over quality if you must, the bowl of potato curls and skins– while setting you back another $3– looks like the way to go. This is Happy Hour after all, so indulge in some affordable doses of happiness while taking in a stunning Bay Bridge view that any tourist is sure to appreciate as much as I did.
4:30 seems like the ideal time to hit it, as seating should still be plentiful. After 5:00, as the hungry and thirsty crowds pour in– combined with a somewhat awkward seating configuration– your body-parking choices and wiggle room will inevitably diminish. Either way, that Happy Hour bar menu remains in full swing until 6:30. And if you’re staying for a full dinner, well– that’s another blog post altogether! Impressed I certainly was, as my impending guests likely will be. Social, savory, scenic, and in more than name alone, it’s Epic.
A sunny, warm and crowded Dolores Park.
Surrounding destinations called, but I did not answer. On such a gloriously warm and sunny weekend as that which just passed, my decision was quite an easy one. I chose to stay right here in the city all weekend long, close to home, enjoying the beautiful outdoors for the welcome heat that’s always so rare and unpredictable, and for which we usually must travel elsewhere.
Now on this Monday, as fog rolls in and a crisp breeze picks up, this past weekend could very well be the last of its kind we see for quite a while. All the more reason to have appreciated a perfect Saturday and Sunday here in late October, as so many did. This is San Francisco, after all!
“Oh look at you! I’m liking this,” exclaimed the friendly young woman behind the Starbucks counter as a big smile beamed across her face. “You must have been somewhere important today, and you even kept it on. You didn’t change,” was the input from a fellow bar patron later in the evening. And then there’s always the standard, however vexing, question: “Job interview?”
No chore here.
Suffice to say, for better and for worse, I always enjoy the reactions I get when sporting a suit and tie around town, aside from my simple personal pleasure in looking and feeling good. At the same time I wonder why so many people think there has to be a specific and presumably taxing reason for men dressing well, as if it were some sort of uncomfortable inconvenience to be merely tolerated? Au contraire, I say. I happen to love dressing up and wish I did more often, for no other reason than choosing to do so.
I recall a dinner on Nob Hill with my parents when I was 11 years old. As the host handed me a blazer to put on, I turned to my father and asked him why I had to wear it. “Because we’re now in San Francisco, and people dress here,” was his matter-of-fact reply. That was 1985. I have a feeling the same situation in that same restaurant does not exist today, sadly enough. It’s said the “dot-comers” ruined restaurant dress codes here in the late ’90s, as they afforded en masse to patronize the finest establishments in t-shirts, jeans, and I shudder to think, ball caps.
Fast forward to 2011, to a time when far fewer men dress up anymore, or at least are not required to. The art of dressing well has been lost, for men anyway. There always seems to be the woman who appears polished and elegant in a restaurant, sitting across from a man who looks like he just rolled out of bed and did some work on his car. Poor her! Or does she mind?
It’s not just a social matter; professionally more and more workers dress down today as well. Therefore, jumping to the conclusion that my suit and tie indicate a job interview is a bit fallacious; after all, if no one I might be working for is dressed as such, then why would I be? There’s indeed the faux pas of overdressing in this regard, of which one must be mindful.
Neither a wedding nor a funeral. No meeting the president, nor appearing in court. And no presenting myself to any potential employer. At the end of business hours, come evening, I remained in my same clothing, in no hurry whatsoever to get out of it. Dressing well is truly a pleasure, one with which I wish more men today agreed and did not consider a chore. In any case, it’s high time to bring back the art of dressing well, voluntarily and with pride. That nice young woman at Starbucks is bound to share my opinion, and I’m sure we’re not alone.
From there of course come the numerous beautiful rolling vineyards that sit so refreshingly close to the city. It’s often easy to lose sight of the topographical diversity surrounding San Francisco, especially when most or all of our time is spent within city limits. As such, like I said, the reminder is always a welcome one!
The view is always good from here, especially on such a warm and pleasant October day as this. I simply love where I live, as the scenery never grows old.
Have you ever seen or tasted a fried chicken cake? Actually it’s called a “chicken-n-waffles” cake to be exact, and for me this was indeed a first. Different, rich and “not bad” are my words to sum it up. If your taste buds are so inclined, you may wish to sample such creative baking for yourself — chicken cake and more — at Monet’s Cakes on 2nd Street and Mission in Downtown San Francisco. I think I’m hearing something about chocolate and bacon as well.
No complaints from me this time. Unlike my last Castro neighborhood Asian dinner, this one quickly proved itself a strong and flavorful winner. Now, even after spicy beef, spicy eggplant, fried dumplings and ham rangoon, I have yet to scratch the surface of the extensive menu. Considering my great satisfaction with this first dinner, no doubt doing so will be a welcome, pleasant and delicious task. Thumbs up to Brandy Ho’s.
A new iPhone would be nice, and I’m currently eligible for an upgrade. In about a week I can finally go and get… oh, wait… no I can’t. Of course I was about to say the new 5, but as revealed yesterday, this is not the case. No 5 yet exists. Rather, the 4S is upon us.
Fine, so now what? Go ahead and get the new 4S, and a year from now remain locked in its contract as the supposed 5s are finally dangled before us? Or get the existing 4 for a lesser price? Or, dare I ask, just stay with my existing 3GS that works perfectly fine?
It’s time for anyone with such questions, including myself, to stop, breathe, take a step back, and refocus. It’s a phone. I use mine to talk, text, e-mail, take photos and an occasional video, check Facebook, and do a Sudoku puzzle once in a while. All of these are basics in the smartphone world, each of which functions sufficiently on existing and older iPhone models. A better camera sounds good, but this alone shouldn’t be the deciding factor. Beyond that, do I really need a 4S that talks to me and tells me what I need to do or not do at any given time? Even if so, need I be the first one?
I believe I’ve just answered my own questions. Have you answered yours?
As with alcohol and tobacco, to seat belts and motorcycle helmets, government once again has its hand in personal choices. Fortunately it’s not the U.S. government in this case.
Denmark has instituted a so-called “fat tax,” applying a surcharge to foods that, well, make you fat! But why? Obesity isn’t exactly a “huge” problem for this small Scandinavian nation, certainly not compared to the United States. I’m surprised such a form of taxation hasn’t yet happened here, not that it should of course.
Valid arguments can be made in support of such a measure, but at the same time means other than across-the-board taxation exist for addressing such health concerns, such as education, programs and incentives. A “fat tax” for all, fat or not, equates to nothing more than unwelcome government control over individual decisions that affect only ourselves. The “bigger” issue is not what some choose to eat, but rather everyone getting penalized for their own choices. Herein lies the “larger” matter.
I hope this “first” does not start a global trend. And that’s my fat opinion.
“The one and only” indeed. Naturally I have to hand it to a man who’s made a lifelong career out of having opinions. While many manage to pull it off for a while in one form or another, this bold opinion giver is unarguably unique in his brand, carrying a raw style and distinct presentation that are simply unmatched.
As such, it’s a shame to see him go. Andy Rooney had the last word on CBS’ “60 Minutes” this past Sunday night, for his final regularly scheduled time. While the 92-year-old “curmudgeonly commentator” is not retiring, so he says, for the first time in more than 30 years he will not be ranting on a weekly basis. Among all else, he’ll be enjoying his restaurant dinners without your interruption, while NOT giving you his autograph. Still, as his mind continues to churn, Rooney’s last word last night may very well not be his last.
I admire the type of people there’s only one of, and there’s certainly only one Andy Rooney, the product of a nearly extinct generation we may not see again anytime soon. He has some very big shoes to fill. But then, will anyone dare try?
A man of surprises.
Twice in one month! That is, two unexpected yet impressive quotes out of the often-unpredictable mouth of California Governor Jerry Brown.
A few weeks ago, upon vetoing a bill to require skiers under 18 to wear helmets, the third-term Democrat stated: “Not every human problem deserves a law.”
Then this week, in expediting the process for construction of a new stadium in Los Angeles despite legal and environmental challenges, Brown declared: “But there are too many damn regulations… Let’s cut the barriers and regulations and move ahead.”
It sounds to me like this historically big-government career politician is undergoing a left-to-center shift in his return to the job he held three decades ago. Perhaps this is precisely Brown’s strategy, appealing to a more centrist and even right-leaning audience in his now golden political years. Let’s just hope it’s not the old “bait-and-switch” routine, distracting us with attractive less-government rhetoric while seeking a way to circumvent Prop 13 and raise property taxes. Since thankfully he cannot do such a thing quickly or alone, I’ll keep my suspicion in check for now — if not my cynicism — and rest simply on his most recent and refreshing quotes.
Words like the above from Governor Jerry Brown capture my attention and earn my praise. To my own surprise, on this, I commend him. And I know I’m not alone, in either surprise or commendation.
“What brand new car is this I’m approaching on my street? I think it’s an Infiniti G Convertible, or — wait — perhaps a Lexus IS C. It’s dark outside, so I’ll just keep walking closer for a better look.”
My inquisitive mental dialogue continued until I was upon the car with my certain answer. I was looking, for my first time, at a 2012 BMW 650i Convertible. While of course this grand machine is larger in every way than the Infiniti and the Lexus for which it was momentarily mistaken, I couldn’t help but lament the possibility of the all-new 6 Series being — well — mistaken for an Infiniti or a Lexus.
Engine enhancement, technical improvements and new luxury appointments notwithstanding, the third-generation 6 is looking like too many of its close relatives, namely a 3 on steroids or a 5 missing a top. The now “old” model that lived through 2011 was far more distinctive and unmistakable in its styling; no other BMW looked like it, especially from rear view. The newest incarnation does not demonstrate the same uniqueness, I’m sorry to say, at least not on first glance.
Still, whether momentarily mistaken for a related model — or worse, for something of a rival manufacturer — the 2012 BMW 6 Series seems altogether poised to once again prove itself the automotive marvel it’s always been.
And that’s my opinion. What do you think?
Mistakable.
Unique.
My first meal was average. My second one was passable at best. Suffice to say, after two dinners involving two very different menu selections, I’m sorry to say I remain unimpressed. Plus, eyeballing some other plates around me, I saw nothing else I’d rather have chosen.
The patio is pretty and pleasant, while the cocktail choices are creative, attractive and ample. The food however, involving dry and fatty meat among all else, holds significant room for improvement. While quantity is generous, quality comes up short.
Still, don’t rest solely on my opinion. Give Nirvana a try for yourself the next time you’re in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco. The setting is inviting and relaxing, and you can certainly enjoy those cocktails under some mature, tropical-like outdoor foliage that, to me, channels Waikiki’s long-gone Tahitian Lanai. As far as food is concerned, as long as you keep your expectations low, you just might be satisfied.
I may or may not go for round three. We’ll see.
He made it! J.R. Ewing has hit his latest milestone, as Larry 
Hagman today turns 80 years old.
Now 16 years since Hagman’s well-publicized liver transplant, and 31 years after his character Ewing’s world-famous (though of course fictitious) gunshot wounds, the TV icon enters his new decade in the midst of reprising his infamous role. That is, a new version of “Dallas” is coming our way in 2012, as Hagman celebrates a big day he once thought he’d never see. I’m certainly thrilled that he is indeed here for it.
The eldest Ewing brother lives, in more ways than one. Happy 80th J.R.!
The signature fried chicken, which is always on the menu, features California poussin with a perfectly salty, crispy buttermilk batter. Another must-try is the macaroni and cheese, which comes topped with a huge stack of onion rings… (Lily Ko, sfstation.com)
These sound delicious, and I’ll gladly give them a try on my next visit. On my first encounter this past weekend, however, I opted for the light, refreshing and healthy watermelon/tomato salad. While no doubt this pairing is well-known in the culinary world, it’s not one I’ve contemplated before now. Impressive and satisfying as my selection was, I just might have to creatively combine these two ingredients at home.
In the meantime, give the watermelon salad a whirl for yourself, as an appropriate palette-starter to that fried chicken. Oh, and where? The NE corner of 8th and Folsom, at Citizen’s Band.
For the curving ascents and descents amid terrific views and less-than-terrific pavement, I’m immediately reminded of Mulholland Drive. After various recent moments of watching cyclists pass by my friends’ home, plus one occasion of exploring the route by motorcycle, finally this weekend I pedaled my way along a significant stretch of Grizzly Peak Boulevard through the hills of Berkeley.
It really is the Bay Area’s Mulholland equivalent, as far as I’m concerned. As such, like Mulholland for its winding and challenging terrain, I see why Grizzly Peak is so popular among cyclists. A simple Google search for “Grizzly Peak Cycling” instantly reveals how well established this thoroughfare is on two wheels.
While my first relatively short-distance ride was certainly a good workout, my next will be an even better one, thanks to additional miles in store. Like other terrific Bay Area cycling roads, I highly recommend this one!
The editorials are pouring in, as predicted. Plenty of journalists, bloggers and assorted voices have an opinion on the opinions of Jacqueline Kennedy (pre-Onassis). I don’t blame them, as I’m one among them after all. Jackie is, to say the least, an immortal icon of unmatched mystique.
She was also, may I say again, human. First Lady Kennedy held outlooks and impressions of everything and everyone, not from the same viewpoint as the rest of us, but still– just like the rest of us. As such, nothing revealed this week via the release of her 1964 audio recordings strikes me as “shocking.” On the contrary, I find her words refreshing, though-provoking and of course, amusing!
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis lived on for 30 years after making these tapes, moving through three decades of life in which her positions grew and evolved, again not like the rest of us, but– just like the rest of us. While she may well be disagreed with, I see no reason for outright criticism.
For all the “grace, fortitude and civility” afforded to her over the past 50 years, Jackie is now, posthumously, more human than ever before. After decades of her self-imposed guardedness that lasted well beyond her death, we’re now hearing from her directly and candidly. While this may be “shocking” to some– or worse yet, “less than flattering,” we finally have a more complete picture of a beautiful, captivating– and imperfect– human being, just like the rest of us, but not.
Thank you, Jackie. And that’s my opinion.
She was soft-spoken and never granted interviews. This doesn’t mean she lacked opinions, however, because as we are soon about to see, she most certainly did! The late great Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis is posthumously making headlines 17 years after her death and a half century after becoming first lady.
The privilege of hearing some of her more candid remarks is finally coming to us, in the form of 1964 audio tape recordings that are now becoming available to the public for the first time in history. While naturally I can’t wait to hear them, a few humorous tidbits have already leaked out. And to think I already own a Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis quote book, which apparently will need a new edition!
A figure of extraordinary allure and unparalleled style speaks to us “now” from a time long past, revealing her refreshing humanity in the face of the often seemingly unrefreshing position she held. As much as I’ve always admired her, Jackie has just earned a big fresh dose of my respect. And although I’ve never thought of her as snarky, this is not hard to believe. This understandable personality trait was simply well-concealed under the obligatory “nice” veneer of her White House years, making her all the more fascinating to us today. Suffice to say, when Jackie speaks, I readily listen. It appears I’m not alone.
Here’s to a unique and unmatched woman of opinions!
I won’t hold my breath. Still, whenever the day does come– hopefully sooner than later– we can celebrate one significant step in the direction of not only ease and efficiency, but overall sense and sanity.
“Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano recently offered some good news for air travelers: The days of marching through airport security checkpoints in your stocking feet may soon be over.” (LA Times) Read the full article here.
In other words, our footwear will remain on our feet, allegedly, thanks to improvements in TSA screening technology. Trust me, you’ll welcome this change the next time you’re wearing tall boots!
Now about those liquids…
Some groovy original signage, complete with martini!
From Downieville to Mineral via Quincy, on through Red Bluff and Redding to Shingletown and seemingly forever beyond, my motorcycle carried me some 800 miles this past Labor Day weekend, in the company of three motorcycling friends. In addition to the undeniable fact this was one long and exhausting journey, pockets of California appeared before me that never before had, some I never knew existed!
Our location remained a mystery to me much of the time, meaning… I really had no idea where we were! Still, I always love an adventure, especially one in which the planning is done for me. Had I looked at our route map ahead of time, I might have been tempted to try to alter our ambitious mountain journey. Silly me to think the four of us were riding straight to Redding. Suffice to say, the element of surprise ultimately worked in my psychological favor. Tired? Yes. Sorry? No.
My favorite stretch of road had to be Highway 36, heading west from Mineral down into Red Bluff. It’s here I took notice of the highest number I’ve ever seen on my SV’s digital speedometer… and I suppose that’s all we’ll say about that. Lassen Volcanic National Park is stunning and well worth the visit, while there’s no doubt far more surrounding terrain remaining for me to explore. With a tinge of regret, after 400 miles of riding on Saturday I opted out of Sunday’s jaunt to Klamath Falls, Oregon, a city I memorably visited in 1998 and to which I’d be curious to return. Instead, Redding’s Hilton Garden Inn satisfactorily relaxed me throughout the hot late afternoon. This, before a festive and filling group dinner followed by the enjoyment of some “local color” on the eve of another 250 miles of throttle to get us home. Monday’s dinner stop in Napa topped off the long weekend quite nicely.
I’m reminded of the enjoyment of motorcycle use for more than just daily stop-and-go city commuting. Such a two-wheeled journey does not come often for me, nor will it. When it does, however, I’m generally pleased. And in this case, I’m happy to say Northeastern California is now on the map… mine, that is!
On this auspicious occasion of my father’s birthday, I finally acted on his months-old suggestion to visit the House of Shields. The website states upfront: “In keeping with tradition, there is no clock on premises, nor is there a T.V.” I must add: There is no designated happy hour– as in no drink specials– and also, perhaps contrary to my father’s half-century-old recollection, no food. In 103 years of history, solid nourishment was served once upon a time, I’m told. Alas, no longer is this the case. So do not show up hungry!
What does exist is a convenient if not surprisingly small spot to get a decent drink in San Francisco’s financial district, anytime throughout the afternoon long into the evening. On the city’s sizable list of historical watering holes, the House of Shields has clearly earned its place, obviously having served countless thirsty patrons throughout the decades. From the intricate woodwork, to the detailed tile, and even to the seemingly original bathroom, you can tell this special place has been around a while and deserves respect. I only wish the overall tone were a bit warmer. Fortunately my acceptably sized Hendricks martini upped the temperature a bit. All in all, I’ll be back!
As I researched photos of various car models at work today, this one quickly grabbed and held my attention. It remains by far my favorite of the day, while speaking powerfully to the passage of time without saying a word. Here’s to the evolution of the BMW 5 Series through the years, represented by all six generations in one striking eyeshot. Remarkable, I say.
It’s sure to be a winner, or at least that’s my overall feeling at this early point. I already praised it months ago. At the same time, I feel compelled to suggest that if you cut off the front end from your line of sight and gaze at the car’s side profile, you might do a double take and wonder for a moment whether or not you’re looking at a BMW 3-Series Coupe. Not to knock MBZ styling, of course, at least not until absolutely necessary.
No doubt the forthcoming Mercedes-Benz C-Class Coupe will introduce some serious competition to its supposed lookalike. I’m looking forward to it.
It’s been a while since I’ve mentioned her in writing. Still, she’s never far from my mind, as her music dominates my iTunes playlist. She is– and has been for years– my single favorite songwriter and musical performer of all time. As I’ve often said and still believe, she’s wonderful therapy– much less expensive that you’ll pay by the hour no doubt!
As such, I’m always delighted to read about Mary Chapin Carpenter in the news. Such coverage assures me she’s active, performing, and hopefully hard at work on her next album. I simply wish the East Coast “Hometown Girl” would pay a visit to California once in a while. In the meantime, her “intellectually powerful” music lives on!
Thinking of former President Bill Clinton on his 65th birthday today, I would have imagined he’d enjoy one of those chicken fried steak dinners I discussed earlier this week, if not a nice big filet or rib eye. But no! Nothing of the sort is in store for the now-health-conscious former burger lover on this occasion, or any occasion for that matter. Bill has apparently, to my and perhaps your surprise, gone vegan!
I certainly recognize the need to adjust and monitor one’s diet in the wake of clogged arteries and bypass surgery. At the same time, I must wonder if doing so really requires foregoing all items derived from animals. Is this not taking healthy eating to the unnecessary and unenjoyable extreme? There’s plenty of “good” meat in a healthy diet, no? Even though he’s in far better health today than a decade ago, Bill is now looking TOO thin, and dare I say older than his age. At 65, he appears he could use a little…er… meat, on his bones.
But that’s just my carnivorous opinion. Happy Birthday Mr. President, cigar or no cigar!
“The cuts of steak used for chicken fried steak are usually the less expensive, less desirable ones, such as chuck, round steak, and occasionally flank steak. The method is also sometimes used for chopped, ground, or especially cube steak. Chicken fried steak is usually served for lunch or dinner topped with cream gravy, and with mashed potatoes and vegetables, and biscuits served on the side.” (Wikipedia)
This one actually looks good!
I’m not sure exactly how they’re doing it here in San Francisco, and perhaps I don’t want to know. Suffice to say, two recent chicken fried steak meals at two different neighborhood establishments have yielded two strikes. Less-desirable meat indeed it was, so overcooked and gravy-soaked so as to satisfactorily disguise the possible dog or cat I was actually consuming.
This is par for the course, of course. Expectations for any such preparation should understandably remain low. After all, chicken fried steak is one of those typically greasy, calorie-ridden, artery-clogging forms of “comfort food” meant to be enjoyed as an occasional indulgence– one you know is bad for you but you’re going to treat yourself nonetheless.
So comes my point. My two recent attempts at “comfort food indulgence” were not all that comfortable. At the somewhat trendy Blue, the chicken fried steak was rather soggy, detached and bland. Strike One. At greasy spoon Orphan Andy’s, what emerged as a chewy, dried-out hockey puck fortunately did not leave any lasting effects. Strike Two.
I know there has to be a decent “CFS” here in the City; it simply remains to be discovered. Will the third time be a charm or a strike out?
Ryan R. Sanderson 