Never trust anyone who overuses the word sincerely. One must wonder about those times when the abuser doesn't use the word. I sincerely hope that you, my loyal reader, had a copasetic thanksgiving. Perhaps you overate, which is proper. Or perhaps you underate or even fasted, which would be a pretty amazing experience, I do believe. Me, your fearful leader? I Took off for San Francisco Wednesday afternoon with 'ma 'n 'pa 'n gran'ma. We piled into the family benz and made it to Max's Opera House Cafe. As serendipity would have it, Murphy had just picked up Miller from the airport, and they came our way via pickup to pick me up. One I was good and picked up we headed to Dave's house in the Inner Sunset district. We spent the night cavorting and carousing. Late in the night, Miller played us some of his latest. It was a forgotten pleasure to hear new Miller/Danny songs and it made me pretty happy. I slept on the couch. And so it went for three nights, or was it four? No, it was three. Each of us spent the days with our families kvetching, and the evening with each other carousing. I'll leave the details aside, and simply say it was a very nice weekend of merriment-- one that truly felt like a holiday. Of course there were family affairs too. We had turley and oh so much more at Spencer's east bay abode. We shopped on the haight ashbury, which is pretty lame, but not as lame as it could be. We ate out at corner bistros and drank coffee. Soon it was Saturday and time to head back. I slept through most of the trip, sorry mom. I arrived in Malibu in good cheer and cleaned up my little attic for the next 24 hours... more or less. Chris sent in his apps and we all have our fingers crossed. Viva thanksgiving.