A Date with Giants

Several weekends ago, on a rare Monday off (Labor Day, to be precise), we shrugged off our laziness and hesitation and finally made it out to AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants. 

I'd been to the park multiple times, but for both Mimi and Sumie it would be their first.  As we packed the car to head out to the stadium, though, Sumie received a call from work.  Could she come in?  Of course she could.  That's the life of a doctor.  She missed the first 6 innings, but made it back for the last three which, as it turned out, were the best part of the game anyway.

So it was just Mimi and me who met my mom at the park and made our way up ramp after ramp to the nosebleed seats along the third base line.

 Despite the elevation, we still had a great view of the game. 

By the middle of the first inning, I realized I really should've brought a hat along for Mimi. Forgetting one wasn't all that bad, though. It gave me an opportunity to get Mimi her first Giants cap, which she - amazingly- wore through the next 5 inning of play without a complaint or squirm.  She just sat happily on Grandma's lap. 

Eventually, though, Grandma got a bit bored, so she took Mimi and Mimi's cousins Carson and Ryan (their parents Rob and Carol had come to join us, making for a pretty significant cheering section) down to the Coke bottle slide and the trolley. Here's Mimi and Carson on the trolley.

And here's Mimi hamming it up for the camera.  That's my girl.

Eventually, Grandpa was able to make it out, and by the 7th inning even Sumie made it to the park, having found FREE parking!  The Giants ended up pulling through in the 9th inning with a 9-8 win. It was a great outing for Mimi's first ball game.  She even learned to say "baseball" and point down at the field. Despite her growing love of the game, it still wasn't enough to get her to stop squirming for a picture with her parents.  Mimi has her priorities.

We had a wonderful time and can't wait to go back.  Unfortunately, a day out at the ball park isn't exactly cheap.  Between the $30.00 tickets, $10.00 beers, $11.00 chicken fingers with fries, and $137.00 in sunscreen to keep my body from being burnt to a crisp, it's an expensive outing.  I'll have to spend my time between trips to the park with quieter, cheaper pursuits.  Thankfully I came across a vintage "Simon" game from 1978 the other day.  $1.00 and still in the box. You just can't pass that up...even if you have a terrible memory, like me. 

Cutest Picture Ever and Dolores Park

Yes, coming up is perhaps the cutest photo ever.  And Mimi isn't even in it.

It all started with Mimi impersonating her Mama and me when it comes the bedroom routine.  Each night we bundle Mimi in her pajamas, read her a book, and then put her to bed with her mofu (blankets).  Well, she's decided that her friends Baby, Nyan-Nyan, Wan-Wan, and Bear need to take naps as well.  At first is was just a matter of laying them down.  Then they needed blankets.  Now, they need the whole routine.

First off, Mimi put baby to bed, complete with personal mofu, on the rolling cart from our bedroom.  We use this for our pajamas.  Mimi uses it for trundling her friends around.  I can't help but think Mimi will someday work in a NICU when she has baby in the cart. 

Before long, Mimi decided to head back to her room and fill up the cart with the rest of her friends.  They each got a mofu, just like baby.  

 And here it is, the cutest picture we've taken of Mimi's childhood to date (at least to me).  To complete the bedtime routine for her friends, she made sure each one had her own book to read before bedtime.  Mimi was so proud.  When we tried to eventually move the rack back out of the living room, she wouldn't let us.  "No!  Sleeping!"  I guess Mama knows best. 

We recently were able to sneak out to Dolores Park again on a warm and relatively sunny Sunday.  It's quite a view, isn't it?  

They'd just finished the playground and Mimi couldn't wait to tackle all the new equipment.  

She tried out the bongos...

...and used the steel rings to climb the hill-slide rubber mountain all by herself (she still needed her Papa to help her down).  

But the biggest step forward of all came when Mimi took to the big girl swings by herself for the very first time. 

Sumie and I, though always proud (if sometimes flustered) of our little Mimi, were very proud that day.  At least until she nearly took a header trying to jump off. 

Something Snapped after Ocean Beach

Family, friends, readers of this blog, people I pass on the street, anyone who has lived or worked below me, even those on the international space station who might happen to look down as San Francisco passes by know that I'm out of shape.  It's rather hard to miss.  Pudgy since I was a kid (I was told the baby fat would melt away, but it, like me, was stubborn), I've almost always been on the larger side.  To this day I cannot stand the word "husky."  Why anyone would use that term to designate a kid's clothing size is beyond me.  The only time I was actually, properly fit was in my late teens and early 20s.  Around Christmas of my senior year, I decided that I'd lose a bunch of weight.  And I did.  Almost 50 pounds in 6 months. 

My diet was one highly regarded by teens: work out like mad and don't eat.  I ran 3+ miles every day, even though I hate running, and limited my caloric intake to 3 turkey sandwiches a day, which worked out to about 800 calories.  Total grams of fat was limited to 8 or less.  I still call this my "manic diet."  I managed to keep most of the weight off until I met my future wife.  While she is still thin, fit, and gorgeous, my weight crept up slowly each year, with a brief drop when I lived in Japan, to what, I must admit, is a rather unhealthy poundage.  So, a couple weeks ago, I snapped - just like I had done in high school - and set out to do something about it. 

I bought a pair of running shoes and set up a workout track list on my wife's old iPod Shuffle.  For the past week I'd been walking at least 3 miles a day, sometimes with Mimi, sometimes on my own.  The approach hasn't been nearly as drastic compared to what I did in high school, but I'm feeling better with each walk.

San Francisco is a uniquely beautiful city and my daily walks have given me new opportunities to explore it.  This past Friday, while Mimi was in daycare, I drove over to Ocean Beach for my walk.  I strolled down the bicycle path along The Great Highway for about 1.5 miles and then crossed the road to walk back along beach.  Barefoot.  What a great way to get fit.  While out I discovered the lower reaches of Ocean Beach, which are far more beautiful, and less crowded, than the sandy stretches near the Cliff House and Beach Chalet.  Mimi would love them!  So, this past Monday, Sumie, Mimi, and I snuck out after work and hit the beach!

Mimi, like her Papa, loves the water.  It's hard to keep her out.  But, thankfully, she also loves digging in the sand.  Here she is with her Mama, bucket in one hand, shovel in the other.  

The only issue with Mimi's love of digging in the sand is where she does it.  Most kids one sees at the beach leave the confines of the beach blanket or picnic mat to dig their tunnels, fill their buckets, and build their castles.  Mimi, however, refuses to leave her comfy fabric perch.  Instead, she brings the sand to the blanket which, invariably, becomes covered in grime in a matter of minutes.  

Beach towel sufficiently filthified, Mimi and I walked down to the water.  Just like with pools, Mimi has no fear when it comes to the ocean.  Freezing cold Pacific waters?  Waves?  Bring 'em on!  

It really was all I could do to keep Mimi from going fully under.  She'd literally run for the largest waves so, once they broke, she could plop herself down in the deep (for her at least), frigid waters. 

Mimi and I eventually made it back to the blanket, the car, and finally back home where we were rewarded with a nice warm shower to wash off all that pesky sand.  I didn't get much exercise, but the three of us had a great time out on the beach.  And I knew I'd be going back to walk there sometime soon.  Well, at least that's what I thought...

Yesterday, realizing the workout limitations one pair of shorts presents, I walked over with Mimi to Ross.  There I bought a great pair of exercise shorts.  On my walk later that night, this time through Golden Gate Park, I took it up a notch and started jogging.  Everything was in place: shoes, shorts, music, and determination.  10 minutes after I started I was still going, and actually feeling alright.  The bouncing, however, had dislodged my iPod from my sleeve, so I slowed to adjust it.  30 seconds after starting back up, it happened.  Snap.  Something in my lower left calf decided that enough was too much. 

I hobbled back home, rather Frankenstein-like now that I think about it, and put my leg on ice.  I tied the bag with an old baby blanket of Mimi's, which Mimi, upon seeing it, insisted on having back.  We eventually compromised with an ice pack baby blanket of her own

I don't think I ruined anything - the injury is already feeling better, though far from 100% - but something in my lower calf definitely gave way.  Though I know I should take this as a kind warning not to push myself too hard, I can't quite get over the irony.  Here I am trying to get into shape, starting my first run in years and actually enjoying it, and then, thinking it's all in fun, pop goes my tendon.   It'll heal and I'll be back out there soon, I'm sure.  Until then, I guess it's push up time!

Swimming at Napa's Silverado

With our first year in San Francisco rapidly coming to a close, we finally made the surprisingly quick drive up to the Napa Valley for some kidney conferencing, swimming, and well-deserved relaxation.  Each year, UCSF invites local nephrologists for a day and a half of presentations and community building.  Sumie, being a bay area nephrologist who wasn't on call that weekend, not only got to go, she was able to bring her entire family as well.

The conference was held at the Silverado resort in Napa, which boasts a conference center, spa, heated pools, and a fantastic golf course.  It would be my job to entertain Mimi (which meant no golf for me) while Sumie was at the conference, and then we'd all be free to have fun in the off hours.  We arrived to find we'd been assigned a beautiful suite overlooking the golf course. 

Mimi loved being out on the balcony with her Mama.  

When it came to her Papa, though, Mimi preferred to stay inside and to keep the ogre out.  Let's just say I'm glad that she can't operate door locks just yet.  

The room even came with a fireplace.  Sumie and I let Mimi take the bedroom so we could camp out on the hide-a-bed and enjoy flames.  It was very relaxing.  So much so that Sumie fell asleep, sitting up no less, by 10:15. 

Several of the partners in Sumie's practice were able to attend as well, and they, like us, brought their kids along.  Here's Mimi with the group Lenny brought (Ashley, Gabe, and Chris).  Mimi had no shortage of attention.

In fact, Lenny and Ashley took Mimi on an adventure during dinner.  As Sumie and I enjoyed some quiet conversation without toddler, Mimi was out crossing bridges, running along streams, and pointing our frogs.  Ashley, who is only a 4th grader, was amazing with her.  When Mimi finally came back, she was beaming.  I asked her, "What did you see?"  "Bridges!" said Mimi.  She'd obviously had fun.

There was just one drawback to Mimi's adventure.  As we drove back to our room (it was on the opposite side of the course) I opened the sunroof to better take in the night air and sounds.  As the ribbits of frogs and chirrups of crickets welcomed us home I said to Mimi, "We're back!"  To which Mimi replied, "F*ck!"

This continued as we pulled her out of her car seat.
     "What was that Mimi?"
     "F*ck!" 
     "Excuse me?!"
     "F*ck!   F***********ck!"

It wasn't until we'd nearly reached our room that it clicked.  Frog!  Mimi was trying to say frog.  We worked on the word before bed, but, unfortunately, the pronunciation hasn't improved.  At least she's learned to clarify what's she's saying.  She now yells out, "F*ck!  Ribbit, ribbit!"

Despite the potty mouth, Mimi still got to partake in her favorite activity: swimming.  Though there wasn't a kiddie pool, the resort did have a fantastic heated pool.  Mimi and I spent a good hour and a half in the water on Friday and then, Mimi recognizing her father wasn't sufficiently sunburned, another 2 hours on Saturday.  Mama joined us Saturday afternoon once the conference concluded, much to Mimi's delight.  

Mimi shows no fear in the water, even though she doesn't know how to swim.  I think, in her mind, that she believes she can swim just fine and doesn't need Mama or Papa to hold her up.  While I have no doubt she'll be swimming soon, this cavalier attitude is a bit nerve-wracking.  Mimi's even taken to jumping into the water all on her own!

We only stayed one night at Silverado, but we came home relaxed and revived.  My only regret is that I didn't get to enjoy the amazing course.  Though my clubs were in the car, I didn't even make it to the driving range.  That's what happens when one travels with a toddler, I suppose.  I think next time we'll take Grandma and Grandpa or Obachan and Ojichan and perhaps stay an extra night.  They'd get a free place to say and Sumie and I just might get another evening out.  And maybe, just maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to hit the links. 

Steam Trains and California Bears

I'm not the best when it comes to getting out of the house.  My mind tends to dwell on what I can read, play on the computer, or watch on Netflix rather than where the weekend might take me.  Thankfully I'm married to a wonderful woman who, though she often likes to stay in as well, is adept at getting my butt off the couch and into the car for a weekend outing.  I like to think it's because she loves me, but, deep down, we both know it's because she prefers to be chauffeured over the weekend.  And that's fine with me.  Even with the driving, I know I'm getting the better end of the deal.  This proved particularly true yesterday after Sumie successfully shot down my objections to Bay Bridge traffic and set us out for a trip to Berkeley.

We followed our usual plan for weekend travel.  We pick a general destination, the time we want to leave the house, and the basic route we want to take.  After that, we let chance take us where we need to be.  For some this might be a bit unnerving, but rarely has it failed us for a great day out or weekend getaway.  For our trip to Berkeley, we mapped out a route to University Ave and decided to leave at 10:00am.

It took us at most 30 minutes from our house to Berkeley's University Ave exit.  No traffic.  Perfect.  As we approached the campus, Mimi fell asleep.  That meant more driving.  And that meant skirting the campus and heading into the Berkeley hills.  We didn't have a map or a plan, so we just went up, up, and up.  The roads are tight and winding, but the views more than make up for the slow rate of progress.

Not only do you get a view of Berkeley and the bay, you get the city of San Francisco and both bridges, the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate, to boot.  No wonder so many people have decided to set their home fires on these hills, despite the incline and expense.

On our way to the top we left the residential areas and drifted into Tilden Park.  What a phenomenal place.  The one drawback to our happy-go-lucky travel planning was that we failed to bring a picnic lunch.  As we scooted around the park, avoiding the countless sado-masochistic bicyclists who spend their weekends shooting up and down the hills for fun, we came across a sign: "Steam Trains."  There was no choice.  We had to go.

Towards the top of the park is what can only be described as both a little kid and elderly geek heaven: acres and acres of scale model, fully operational steam trains.  And these aren't approximations, with gasoline or diesel engines.  These are the real deal, full-on steam locomotives.  Just tiny.  For the bargain price of 3 dollars per ticket, with kids under 2 years old riding free, we boarded our train.  

Mimi, as readers will remember, loves trains.  As we headed out, though, she was a bit apprehensive about this relatively loud and open-air experience.  Mimi's used to the quiet, electric trains of Japan, so a bout with real steam was a bit of a shock. 

But nothing prepared Mimi for the tunnel.   Between the dark, the movement, and all the excited riders screaming to hear their voices echo, the tunnel wasn't exactly Mimi's favorite part of the ride.  But Mimi, now nearly two, braved it without so much as a whimper or tear. 

Upon returning we stopped to admire the steam engine for a while.  The engineer was an older, most likely retired gentleman who had a fascination with all things steam.  You could tell that he worked on the engine and loved keeping it in top shape.  That's a hobby I could get into.  Quite seriously.

By the time we finished our journey we were all starving, so we made our way out of the hills.  This, thanks to spotty reception and the occasional "difference of opinion" between driver and navigator, took a bit longer than it should've, but we eventually made it back down for lunch on Telegraph.  Being in a college town, even though it definitely made me feel older, was a welcome change.  It reminded us of our time on the Upper West, up near Columbia and later not far from Julliard.   

After lunch we walked onto campus.  Here's Mimi at Sather Gate.  I wonder if she'll look back on this picture as a Berkeley student.  Her aunt, a UC Bekeley alum and ferocious California Bears fan, would approve.  Sumie and me, we'd be happy, but I think we'd rather her go to Columbia.  That way we'd have all the more reason to visit NYC. 

From the gate we strolled over to the Campanile, Berkeley's famous clock and bell tower.  We considered going up, but Mimi had other plans.  Fierce kicking and cries for milk signaled that it was time to head for home.   

It was a great day out.  In fact, we felt so at home in Berkeley, both in the hills and around the campus, that we actually started investigating homes and schools in the hills and outlying areas.  Of all the places we've visited in the Bay so far, this felt the most innately like home to us.  We still have a lot to explore, but when it comes to where we might be in 2 to 3 years, I think it's safe to say that Berkeley area is definitely on our list.  

Sand, Sun, and Sakura - Santa Cruz and the SF Cherry Blossom Festival

I do not tan.  It is a sad but irrefutable fact.  Unlike my lovely wife, whose skin simply grows deeper and richer in color from a day in the sun, I have only two skin tones: pasty white or lobstery red.  This hadn't been much of an issue, though, living on the east coast.  Sure, I'd get the occasional red nose from an open sunroof or trucker's arm from a sunny drive up the Taconic Parkway, but nothing major.  As such, I'd forgotten just how fierce, and unforgiving, the California sun can be.  Well, at least until I found myself frying to a crisp on the beach in Santa Cruz.

Our Saturday started innocently enough.  We wanted to get out of the house, but didn't know where to go, so we packed a few essentials for toddler travel (stroller, diapers, change of clothes, snacks, and Valium), and made our way west to Ocean Beach and then took US 1 south.  Before we knew it, the toddler was asleep.  Knowing our bundle of joy will wake, without fail, as soon as the car stopped, we just kept moving.  It's a good thing we got that diesel Jetta with the great gas mileage because by the time Mimi started coming round we were already in Santa Cruz.

Sumie had never been to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, so we braved the abysmal traffic and parked in a grass overflow lot right below the log ride.  The temperature difference was astounding.  Between the heat and humidity Santa Cruz felt like NYC in July.  That's Northern California, though.  Drive more than an hour and chances are you'll need a change of clothes.

Mimi was still a bit young for the majority of the Boardwalk rides (I can't wait to take her on the Giant Dipper sometime soon), but we thought we'd give the carousel a shot.  Santa Cruz's carousel is famous for still having brass rings, which are fed through a chute for riders on the outer horses.  Shortly after plucking a ring you can throw it at a giant clown which goes off in a satisfying, flashing wail if you manage to hit the mouth.  Or, if you're feeling nostalgic, you can pocket the ring, as I did when I was a kid.  Either way, the carousel is a great piece of vintage Americana that still retains some of the good old danger of historic midway rides.  And Mimi, seeing all the brightly colored horses spinning to the whirly-gig music, was excited to give it a go.

Sumie perched Mimi on an inside horse; better to keep a hold of her that way.  Mimi was all smiles....

...at least until the massive contraption started spinning.  

Within 2 revolutions the rest of the riders were having a great time, but Mimi, our brave little toddler, was screaming her head off.  That's our girl.  

From the carousel we made our way to the end of the boardwalk, where we found a nice cafe with outdoor seating.  My neck and nose were already starting to feel a bit "red and raw," but Sumie insisted.  And then, knowing Mimi loves the water, we headed to the beach.  

I took Mimi down to the waves where she frolicked happily and I looked like an unprepared and dorky tourist with my rolled-up jeans.  Wading finished, we headed back to Sumie and the beach blanket.  There, having already played the aimless tourist, I impersonated a beached whale with sunglasses. 

Sumie, of course, looked beautiful as ever.  Mimi was overjoyed to spend some quality time with her Mama, as you can see.  

As we left Santa Cruz, me already unable to turn my head due to neck burn, we marveled at the traffic coming into town on 17.  At least 5 miles of massive, bumper-to-bumper snarl.  Once again, getting out early paid off.

The next day, Sunday, was a busy one.  The Cherry Blossom (Sakura) Festival was concluding that day with a parade in Japantown and Sumie had been asked to give a speech at a brunch recognizing outstanding Japanese seniors.  As such, we woke up early and suited up.  Mimi woke thinking she'd go as Moses. 

Sumie was representing her hospital at the senior awards breakfast, which has sponsored the event for the past 4 years.  We found it a bit of an odd request - I have a feeling someone in PR noticed her name in the list of new physicians and tagged her for it - but a welcome one.  This year, 15 or so Japanese American veterans were recognized for their service during and after World War II.  Despite their age, each one, without exception, refused assistance when ascending to the stage to receive their rewards.  After all those years the determination, the pride, and the will to be independent was still there.  In short, it was inspiring.

Sumie's speech, as well as the entire brunch, went well.  We would've had pictures if Mimi hadn't decided to scream anytime someone took the stage.   By 11:00 the brunch was over and Sumie and I were free to explore the Cherry Blossom Festival with Mimi.

I absolutely love Japanese festivals, or "matsuris."  They're something uniquely Japanese.  Part county fair, part neighborhood block party, and part Oktoberfest, there's no better way of getting in some games, community spirit, beer, and great food.  Apparently, the entire Iwasaki clan here on the west coast missed matsuris as well, so by 1:00 or so we'd been joined by Sumie's brother and sister, their spouses, and all the cousins. 

We lined up at various vendors for food - good, but not like in Japan - and then found a comfy curb to share it with the kids.  Here's Mimi with Sumie's brother's kids, Shuhei and Asuka.  Kae, Sumie's sister, was still looking for parking. 

Shuhei and Asuka came dressed in festival clothes.  They were ready to party! 

But the mood soon changed.  I think Mimi told Shuhei and Asuka a really bad joke.  I'm not quite sure how she did it, but that's definitely what it looks like. 

Before too long Kae arrived with her husband Ed and their three kids.  Ed and I stood in line for takoyaki.  These are savory Japanese donut holes with a bit of octopus in the middle.  Odd sounding, yes, but also delicious.  You can see the line below.  It took us half an hour, but we got 'em.  

I'm sorry to say that these takoyaki were nothing like what I'd experienced in Japan.  Everyone still seemed to love them, but they just didn't cut the mustard.  I want to have my own both next year and, even though I'm a gaijin (foreigner), show them what real takoyaki tastes like.

We were able to catch the tail end of the parade.  Here's a look at the last shrine going by the Peace Pagoda, complete with semi-naked Japanese men.  No matsuri would be complete without them.  

Mimi was intrigued.  When I asked her what she saw, she replied, "Oshiri."  That's the Japanese word for butt. 

It was a packed, but fantastic weekend.  I'd been thinking we'd just take it easy, but I'm so glad that we went out and made the most of it.  The only thing I would've changed is our wardrobe for the Cherry Blossom festival.  From 8:30am to 3:00pm Sumie was navigating the matsuri in heels and I in a grey Burberry suit.  I stuck out so severely that a vendor tried to force me into getting my face painted just for the irony.   And I would've done it, too...if I didn't like that suit so much!

Fisherman's Wharf - Making the Most of a Tourist Trap

Fisherman's Wharf.  It's a San Francisco icon.  A must see.  A can't miss.  And, for any San Francisco local, an "avoid at all costs" locale.  It's much like Times Square for any resident of New York City.  You know you have to take your out-of-town friends to see it, but your mind screams, "I'll go anywhere else!  Anywhere!  Even Newark!"   With our friends visiting from Chicago, I was dreading the obligatory "Wharf" visit. 

Thankfully, however, the unique scheduling needs of a toddler turned it into a great outing, even for a crusty local.  Here's how it worked. 

We started off early Friday morning.  After bundling Mimi up and taking her to daycare (one toddler would be sufficient, thank you), Julie, Jeremy, Anthony (just shy of 2 years old), and I headed for Fisherman's wharf.  We left the house around 9:30am, which would avoid the morning rush, get us to the Wharf by 10, and allow us to get back home for a nap.  We took a slightly round-about route from the Richmond district, cresting the steep hills of Divisadero past the mansions of Pacific heights and then down into the Marina. 

We shot east on Lombard and took this all the way to "the crooked street."  On most afternoons and evenings, especially on the weekends, the approach to that famous corkscrew is an absolute nightmare.  Shortly before 10:00am, even on a Friday, it was deserted.  San Francisco offers great diversity but is curiously deficient when it comes to early risers. 

We hit Fisherman's Wharf well before the majority of the shops opened.  It was virtually deserted and, as a result, far more enjoyable.  We could concentrate on the beauty of the bay rather than who we might bump into.  We attempted to get tickets for Alcatraz (Note: these sell out fast.  It's best to buy online) and were turned down for two reasons: 1. They were sold out.  2. The two seemingly most obvious places to sell these tickets don't offer rides to the island.  At the Wharf you'll find the Red and White fleet as well as the Blue and Gold fleet.  They are both prominently positioned and offer bay cruises and tours, but no trips to the rock.  For that, wannabe convicts must hike over to Pier 33, near the Ferry Building.  Again, it's best to buy online. 

However, our diversion to the Red and White ticket office took us to some of the actual working docks, where we stumbled across the Musee Mecanique.  It wasn't yet open, but this is a real hidden gem.  It's filled with mechanical attractions from the now defunct Playland at the Beach, a San Francisco amusement park that surrendered to condos in the 1970s.  It's tucked away (unseen) to the right in the photo below.  A perfect place to ditch the crowds, should you find yourself in one. 

The food stalls were all just opening up.  We were able walk through them with impunity - no catcalls from pushy vendors - and experience the behind-the-scenes work as they set up for the impending lunch shift. 

With most of the tourist-trap shops still closed we were able to stroll quickly down to the maritime museum.  The ships were beautiful, but we experienced the one drawback to going early: when that wind blows out on the pier before noon, it's damn cold!  Jeremy and Julie had to bundle Anthony a bit more than we were first planning.

Even the seagulls were feeling the chill. 

From the maritime museum it was a quick walk up and over the Ghiradelli Square. 

For young couples with toddlers hoping to make this walk as quickly as possible, it is best to employ a balding man who thought leaving his own child in daycare would leave him relatively toddler free.  They get the job done.  

Ghiradelli Square is beautiful, but doesn't have that much to offer beyond the chocolate shops, unfortunately.  It's still worth a visit, though.  We used ours to load up on snacks and then relax in the courtyard to give Anthony his lunch.  And one must get at least one picture with the Ghiradelli sign. 

The toddler topped up, we headed over to fill ourselves with clam chowder in bread bowls at Boudin (touristy, I know, but that bread is just too good) and then to Pier 39 to see the sea lions.  Our walk brought us past the Powell and Hyde Cable Car terminal.  Normally this stop is abysmally packed, but on our Friday morning, even with the blue skies, we could've hopped right on.  

The sea lions are, without fear of argument or contradiction, far and away the best thing about Pier 39.  The pier itself is nothing more than a warning of what life would be like if tourist chains and needless-crap shops ran the world.  The sea lions, though, are a great example of what can happen when animals decide to take charge.  Over 20 years ago some sea lions started using the then operational boat docks at the end of Pier 39.  They were squatters.  And thankfully, Pier 39 decided that it would be best to cut the squatters a break and turn them into what is perhaps the best attraction on the Wharf.  Not only are they fascinating, they're perched on the western side of Pier 39, which means you don't even have to pass all the shops!  Fantastic!

By 1:00 we'd covered most of Fisherman's Wharf and were ready to head for home just as the sights began filling with tourists.  Perfect.  Had we been sans toddler, we probably would've stopped in for a second lunch, or at least a snack, at the Ferry Building.  There are some genuinely tasty shops and restaurants tucked away in that considerably less crowded and more local haven on the Wharf. 

That evening, after picking up Mimi, we celebrated a full day (we hit the Presidio in the afternoon, but that's a different story) with penguin pajamas and juice. 

I actually surprised myself with a fun day out at Fisherman's Wharf thanks to getting out early, good food, and good company.  Hmm, maybe I could give Times Square another chance.  OK, I'll be honest, that last one's not happening.