By The Seaside, The Wonderful Sea

This is Morro Rock. From where we are in Cayucos it looks like a mystical island.















It is real nice here, and the weather for the most part has been great. We had some rain yesterday in the morning that lasted until noon and some more that's expected for this morning but I like storms at the beach and from what I hear on my walks, so does everyone else. The pier is a half block away, easy to reach from the house,  and with beautiful views as you walk on its long length. Fishermen are catching sardines. Not the kind that fit in those cans but larger than the length of your hand. In Spain they eat a lot of sardines and I can see why, they are good tasting and you can usually eat bone and all on them.

Went to a local tavern here or saloon as they call it. A straight bar, with talk of some local fag going on, yet the bartender had a slight lisp and the two of us talked of hats. He is a hat man and so am I. Feel damn near naked without one and we talked of our favorite hat. I was wearing mine, the fedora of Indiana Jones. I really really like the hat. I wore it in the rain and it seemed to soften up the stiffness of the brim making it look more like the rugged hat on Harrison Ford. And I think made me look more like Harrison Ford in the bar, being that it was dark, I was on the far side and everyone was getting drunk.

I like straight bars, they will talk to you in a straight bar. Not so much in a gay bar, where all communications is done with the eyes and gestures. With my glasses and my squinting eyes, I might as well be invisible in a gay bar but in a straight one, people will talk to you while having a drink and I find the conversations very interesting. You never know what will be said, but you can rest assured it will be interesting. 

David is coming in on the train and is staying at a nearby motel. It will be good to see him, get a report on the activities of the train and he doesn't drink, which if he did, the both of us would be in the saloon, talking about the local fags or the fags we know and getting plowed. When I'm by myself, it is easy to limit the martinis to one or two.

                                                        After the Storm