TT: Southward bound

My flight to San Francisco was uneventful, and so was my drive from the airport to Berkeley, thanks to the GPS receiver that Mrs. T gave me for Christmas. It showed me exactly how to get to my hotel, which is located a few hundred yards from San Francisco Bay, and I did exactly what it told me to do. Once I got there, I did as little as possible, save for dining with a friend and taking her to a play that I’ll be reviewing in Friday’s Wall Street Journal. The rest of the time I read, listened to music, worked on Rhythm Man: A Life of Louis Armstrong, caught up with my accumulated e-mail, and slept. I watched the sun set over the bay as I ate dinner on Saturday night, and felt completely content.
Today I fly down to Los Angeles, where I have shows to see, people to meet, and pieces to write. I’ll be busy, but at least I’ll be busy in an exciting and unfamiliar place, and Mrs. T is waiting for me there, which will make everything more fun. Among other things, we’re going to stay in a fancy Hollywood hotel, eat hot dogs at Pink’s, and visit an art-collecting friend of mine who lives in a house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright’s son. What’s not to like?
I’ll let you know how it’s going in due course.