Well, a new year is here. Which is always a good time to reflect on the past year, a time when various world events happened, people were born and died, and my dad's friend Larry got pulled over and fainted when a cop asked him if he had been drinking. Of course, people seem to put a lot of emphasis on actual New Year's Eve, which is a little wierd on the West Coast, because midnight comes to New York three hours before, which kind of takes the steam out of the whole event, because you kind of know that it's already New Year's in New York starting at 9 at night.

I did meet a guy last night who told me about going to an Indian ceremony where they poked sticks through their chests and put a string against the stick and yank out the stick sideways, ripping out their skin. The guy who told me the story is interesting enough in his own way, with a dark past and a fairly dark present, and I associate him with a compliment of guys who I also met shortly after him, who were all kind of tough, blue collar, surfer, drug dealer types who looked like cops. This was all in the early part of the evening, when I went to get a burrito in a local surf bar.

But the actual part meant I was at a friend's place right on the water, which is in a kind of curve of beach which had lights strung up along the edge and mountains in the near distance that looked like from Here to Eternity. There were at least 50 people out surfing, which surprised me both because it was fairly chilly out, and also because I didn't know you could go surfing at night. But I guess that is a good way as any to bring in New Year's Day and it also made me acutely aware, in case I was on the verge of forgetting, that I was in California.

In the afternoon, I was thinking about when I first got out here, and the sight of the palm trees, and the smell of the place and how new and different it all was. Now it seems pretty ordinary, though I was on a ridge driving along, and there were dramatic views out to the bay on one side and the ocean on the other, and I had a thought that I have a lot out here, which is that if a person were to live their lives here, they could really have a nice view. But somehow I am still unconvinced that that person would be me.

There were also quite a bit of freaky types out, given that it is San Francisco and all. Partly that was a result of a few Burning Man events involving people wearing costumes and drugs and sex. But it also meant meant a big party on the Embarcadero, with the Village People performing. Which is kind of a cliche, and it was also sort of sad, since most of the Village People are dead so there were only two or three orginal members in the band, and the Village People harken back to an era long gone of gentle, gay San Francisco. But mostly, especially because it was raining, there was an atmostphere of fizzle to the proceedings. Plus my hoiny wasn't around, so it kind of ruined things.