Liberia

Like the man said, “I don’t understand why everyone’s so up in arms about some unruly librarians.” Too true, too true. Still, any country where people have names like Moses Blah and Solomon Blamco deserves our assistance.

Man, I wish my name was Solomon Blamco. That sounds like a really wise space-related superhero. Damn cool.

As advertised, I’m putting my raw notes from Frisco down in the “Do You Want to Know More?” section or whatever it’s called. Read and enjoy.

8/4 – 1030PM

Here at last! As much as I travel I’ll never get over the sensation of travel. Not even 24 hours ago I was waking up in my bed in Gettysburg and now I’m an entire continent away from home. Amazing.

I have found my new favorite place in the world, the Westin Saint Francis. No view, but the place sits on the Powell St. cable car line across from Union Square and survived the ’06 earthquake. My room’s in the old section, just down the hall from the pictures of Queen Elizabeth II and Ronald Reagan. And to beat all there’s a liquor store on one corner and a Jack in the Box on the other. Burgers, beers and jalepenos at 1030! It doesn’t get much better than that.

8/5 – 10AM

The hotel’s cooler than I thought. The party and death that ended Fatty Arbuckle’s career happened on the 12th floor and Al Jolson – “The Jazz Singer” – died in the same room of a heart attack. Downstairs and out the back was one of the spots Gerald Ford was shot at. Hell of a place.

I haven’t explored much, a long walk around downtown from Union Sq. to Yerba Buena Gardens trying to find the bloody con but I don’t think much of the city so far. Maybe because it’s not sunny but this place is like NYC without the attitude and style. Relatively dirty, homeless absolutely everywhere and boldly obvious – it’s the logical end of liberalism and the nanny state. Nobody takes responsibility for themselves and no-one can criticize. PC run amok.