HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE!

It’s like Michelangelo’s David: until you see it in person, you don’t really understand what the hype is about. But then you see it, up close and personal, and you’re in awe.
The Golden Gate Bridge.
I’ve been thinking about the bridge a lot lately, partly because of my Super Secret Project that I’ve yet to disclose. Mostly it’s because I live with the bridge. From both my living room and my bedroom, I have a direct view of it. It’s glorious, and yet at the same time it’s ever-present. I have to admit, I take her for granted. I don’t appreciate her nearly enough.
And then she gets decked out for her birthday and makes you sit up and take notice.
She turned seventy-five this month, in grand style too. I was a little jealous, actually—I didn’t get such an elaborate firework display for my birthday a couple weeks ago. I guess there’s always next year.
I was there for her fiftieth birthday party too. The son of a friend of the family was having a graduation party (he’d finally made it through college) and we had a party at another friend’s restaurant in the Marina. I was wearing an emerald green silk shirt and I had the most unfortunate haircut a teenager could have. My dad walked us to the bridge and back, and then we watched the festivities from the roof of the restaurant. I flirted with boys in the street, and strangers became best friends for an evening. The night was jubilant and happy.
This time, the Magic Man and I invited a few friends over in an impromptu party. We watched the fireworks from the roof. When it was over, we warmed up in our apartment, talking about books, and religion, and Burning Man, and broken wine glasses until the wee hours of the morning. It was a different celebration, but happy nonetheless.
The moral of the story: I’ve got none. Draw what conclusions you may, and if you haven’t ever seen the Golden Gate Bridge in person, put that on your bucket list. You won’t be disappointed.
By day, I write. About all sorts of things, like cupcakes and women who kick ass. I write about love because love is the most important thing in the world... 