5 AM in San Francisco and I'm already late. Everybody is in full battle gear in New York by now. By the time I get to LA they'll be thinking about lunch and the first things that are aggravating me will be history to them. Something good about that.
Pitch black out. A tiny, sharp crescent moon presides over a starry sky. The discrepancy between this peaceful scene and the maelstrom I'm about to enter is heart-wrenching.
The Golden Gate Bridge rears up in the darkness, ridiculously picturesque. Across the Bay, the city is still asleep. Deceptive placidity. Under the blanket of early dawn, traders are whacking away at their laptops, talking with Wall Street and Asia, and Silicon Valley entrepreneurs are sitting at their kitchen tables checking out their net worth.
The West Coast has a pretty good deal. Sure, they have to be up at dawn to impress New York with their industriousness. On the other side, they know that by, say, 3:00 PM, they can put their feet up and think about throwing that Frisbee around, because Mom and Dad back on the right coast are heading home in the snow and ice.
Things to do this week: Not lose heart; keep on trucking; drink with my head, not over it; don't let the bastards get us down; let a smile be my umbrella; buy low and sell high; touch all the bases and make it home.
That's all for now, sports fans. There's only just so long you can make your thumbs focus on any single e-mail. If you'd like to start a chain, of course, that's always all right with me. I'll be back in the pocket tomorrow. Until then, sayonara from me and my Blackberry (RIMM). May all your meetings this week be short and sweet.