Hullo from San Francisco. I don't have time to write anything, at least anything with substance. It has been an incredible weekend. I have done nothing but hang out at French Chateaus in Napa Valley and numerous wineries and vineayrds, chit-chats next to the warmth of large pit-fires and drink good ole American beer, the good kind, not the crappy kind. All my stuff actually made it to SF, completely amazing, I almost didn't make my plane and wasn't sure until I got to Oakland if my baggage had even made it on board. Many tales to tell, though I am not so sure if I should even be talking about them in public, or on the internet especially. But if you come on down to my new neighborhood pub on Haight, I can't remember the name, you can buy me a drink and I will tell you a tale.