Today is our last day in San Francisco. We ate breakfast at the Hilton Hotel Cafe. Boy, was it good! Then, we came back to the hotel Mark Twain and checked all our baggage out. Then we went down to Ghirardelli Square. There was a mimist and she called me up and I rode a pantomime horse with her. I got a lot of applause and mom said it was real good. Nothing else happened until it was time to go to the plane. It was only 12 minutes late this time, and we got home around 10:30 that night.
***
One other majorly traumatic event happened at some point on this trip that I didn't document — and it's because my parents managed to keep it from me. Apparently on one night, upon our return to the hotel, we came across the aftermath of a gangland-style shooting in front of the Hotel Mark Twain. Mom and Dad deftly steered me around this without letting on what was happening.
Many aspects of this trip felt like a family of country bumpkins experiencing the "big city" for the first time. (Pacific Palisades hardly felt big-city to me, and before that I'd lived for five years in the quiet mountain town of Idyllwild.)
If you've been following this since the beginning of the year, it should come as a surprise to no one that I was a huge fan of mime. Sometime around this age, I actually worked for a short time with a mime troupe, performing at venues around the USC campus. It's hard for me to come up with more ways to exploit my full-frontal geekery in front of everyone who knows me, but I'm sure the future pages of this diary will do its best.
All punctuation and spelling has been retained precisely as I wrote it 32 years ago at age 12.
What's this all about? This is what it's all about.
To view the next day click: March 25, 1978
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