We change as we grow older, but what do we pass on?
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Even the Roof Cow Thinks Kevin Fisher-Paulson is old.Courtesy Kevin Fisher-Paulson
Crazy Mike is a grandfather now. He didn’t tell me about it, but his son announced the good news on Facebook. My friend is taking it in stride, quietly pleased though he has yet to show me a photo.
Both of us have exited middle age, but Crazy Mike is doing it right. He eats salad two out of three meals and runs 4 miles a day, whereas I barely circumnavigate the outer, outer, outer, outer Excelsior. He’s also smarter because he arranged to have children in his 20s so he’s now mature enough to have grandchildren, whereas I still have teenagers in the home.
Being nice is overrated; kindness is much more important
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The vaccination: a lesson in patience and gratitude
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Chronicle columnist Kevin Fisher-Paulson receives his first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine on Friday, Jan. 15 in San Francisco.Courtesy of Kevin Fisher-Paulson
My husband, Brian, complains I take forever to get to the point, so here it is: I got my first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. Which now makes the Roof Cow a symbol of hope.
Our neighbors John and Susan have a cow on their roof, a Holstein. Rumor has it she abdicated her throne in the Cow Palace and was exiled to the outer, outer, outer, outer Excelsior.
Tom and Jerry House is a treasured S.F. holiday tradition
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Tom and Jerry’s Christmas tree in San Francisco is back, for the first time without Tom.Courtesy Kevin Fisher-PaulsonShow MoreShow Less
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Tom and Jerry’s Christmas stockings hang on the balcony.Courtesy of Kevin Fisher-PaulsonShow MoreShow Less
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Tom and Jerry’s house on 21st Street is beloved for its annual holiday display.Courtesy Kevin Fisher-PaulsonShow MoreShow Less
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Tom Taylor is memorialized as part of the “Tom and Jerry House” Christmas display.Courtesy Kevin Fisher-PaulsonShow MoreShow Less
Brian and I moved to San Francisco in 1991 and found an apartment in the Mission on Fair Oak Street. Before we unpacked, I leashed the dogs for a walk. They hadn’t circumnavigated their first California block before they sniffed a poodle, who turned out to be Armistead Maupin’s companion.
time? and where on that night of all nights, was safra s crack security team? turns out that in a series of hesitations and miscommunications, authorities had been on the scene for more than an hour before attempting to reach the penthouse or put out the fire. all the while, safra and nurse vivian had been making cell phone calls from the locked bathroom where it was growing increasingly smoky. and yet another 90 minutes ticked by before firemen reached them. by that time, it was too late. you can go from paris to london in such a time. but where were all those highly trained bodyguards? ironically, the safras had felt safe enough in monaco to let the entire security staff sleep at the safra estate ten miles away. when safra s chief of security did arrive, he tried to charge upstairs to save his boss, but the police put him in handcuffs thinking he was part of the
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