Easter morning, San Francisco
So, it’s Easter, a holiday that was very busy, growing up as a son of a minister. It’s one of two “amateur” Christian holidays, that brings out twice-a-year church go’ers. We never did much around chocolate and baskets, focusing more on the resurrection part.
side note:Does that make Jesus a zombie?
Sorry, no bonnet. I don’t do much for church-based holidays nowadays. Mr. Man went out photography-ing and I sat at home zero-ing out my Bloglines. But, former roomie Seanie called to grab breakfast. The top photo is by him after breakfastat Pork Store Cafe on 16th. (I had the mint jack omelet, he, the tofu scramble with fake sausage.)
In reality, I’m sprinting towards my later 30s (if 35 is the turning point), I rarely ride around town, I spend more time working my marketing day job than keeping up with the latest band/jeans/retro fashion/tattoo, I own a yuppie puppy (albeit a rescue) and I sit on my butt every now and then knitting a round of a sock. I’m not running off this afternoon to the Hunky Jesus contest in Dolores Park. (But I think that’s an old friend Timmy/Sister Lolita Me Into Temptation on the invite.)
It kind of makes you think about the back story to all the other “cool” kids you see on the street, eh?