Dear John

Dear John... er, San Francisco,

I left myyyyyy heeeeeart in Saaaaaaan Fraaaaaaancisco.... doobie doobie doo or whatever they play at the end of all the Giants home games.

I'm leaving somethin' alright. Little things like 6 prime years of my adult life. Large, damaged sections of my heart. A few scattered brain cells in the Mission and North Beach. A significant portion of my trust in men and mankind.

It's only fitting that Tony Bennett won't stop singing that stupid, sappy, love song to this city I can't win over in my head, looking at the little waves lapping the side of the Spirit of San Francisco, making random little sparklies wherever they catch the Broadway pier lights.