A nice part of my trip is visiting family
I would not normally see. There was a big family drought in the center of the country, save Chicago, but things are picking up on the coast.
For the first time, I met my cousin John. His father and my maternal grandfather were brothers. He is my granduncle’s son from a first marriage but for some not very good reasons, the rest of the family did not know much about him.
His mother raised him alone in a time when that was not common. She did a great job (in the 50’s, she took him to Mexico for a year as a teenager to get his head straight after he started running with gangs and stealing cars) and it’s interesting to see what happens to my family members when they’re not raised Jewish. John is a homebuilder, avid horseman and endurance bicyclist. Very goyim and good for you lifestyle. He and his wife Nancy graciously took me for a meal at Original Joe’s in North Beach and then drove me around San Francisco for some of the highlights, like the view off of Twin Peaks (above). He also scared the shit out of me by suddenly throwing his car down 22nd street when I was not looking. It is the steepest street this side of the Mississippi. One moment we’re driving on a straight flat and the next thing the car looks like it’s about to go off of a cliff, you cannot see that there’s any land under you.
I was also able to meet up with my future dot-com millionaire and excellent cousin, Justin. He’s not a secret cousin like John. As I keep reminding him, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear it anymore, I was at his Bris.