Funk After 50

Something odd in the air isn't unusual for this neighborhood, but it did to have a little more body this morning. So I was pleased to know my mind was not playing tricks on me but that a funk of more than 50 years was released down by St. Luke's this morning. Like the dog ever on the wrong side of the door, those inside were anxious to get out to escape the odor, while those outside near the source were anxious to get inside for treatment. Isn't that a bit of a metaphor for life in this city any given day?

UPDATE: For whatever reason, this post and the earlier one line reference to a date this past Saturday garnered huge response. No, we didn't have mojitos, and I'd really not thought about them in years. (I actually have had one only one and in, of all places, Davis, last November.) Walking down Market this evening, I saw this sign near the Fell Street exit. Maybe I should go to this place next time. By the way I'm free this weekend, those of Mediterranean lineage are shown a HUGE preference, but I'm flexible beyond that.