This is not a preferential statement; my body has a visceral reaction to cold that becomes physical in direct proportion to the amount of time I am exposed to colder temperatures.
As it was in my unfortunate seat in Phoenix under the A/C blower for the Diamondbacks game, the Giants game, long and dreary, left me a delayed result of my exposure: a ringing headache.
Though not as bad as the post-Arizona issue (that also included a stiff neck), I was pretty much knocked down for sight-seeing today, especially as the “promised” warmer weather failed to materialize.
I pushed myself to at least go out for lunch and revisited a place suggested by my friend. It’s called Buckhorn and it serves amazingly tasty prime rib sandwiches and platters. I had the “Little Buck”, which is an amply filled sweet roll containing mounds of prime rib and grilled onions. I threw on a side of red mashers and I was content.
Game: Tomorrow the A’s are back in town and I’ll see a game in Oakland (hopefully the Warriors win the championship tonight so everyone is in a good mood).
Miscellany of Day 20:
– My genetic klutziness was at work this morning when, in the process of wiping the fogged up mirror so I could see to shave, I knocked one of the glasses off of the tiny shelf above the sink. I scrambled to get most of the big pieces and deftly watched my step as I finished up.
– After informing the cleaning lady of the incident, she vacuumed thoroughly in the area. She returned a bit later with two more glasses, for a total of three. I assured her that would only increase my chances of breaking another glass and she dubiously returned me to only having two.
– On the way to lunch, I was stopped in the street by a person trying to drum up support for the ACLU on behalf of LGBT. Despite the whipping wind in the cross-street, I allowed for the conversation, prefacing it by saying I would not be contributing any funds. She was new at her “job”, but attempted to present the issues fairly.
– At some point during the night, the hotel must have remembered that it was cold in San Francisco. I heard a weird whining or groaning noise that was neither me nor the room next door. I tracked it down to the odd contraption on the wall that, based on old movies I’ve watched, must be a radiator.
I reached to the knob that I assumed controlled the thing and, after getting an accidental burn, managed to turn it in such a way that the whining was replaced first by a knocking sound and then by a whistling. Again, I presumed this was hot air venting into the room and went back to bed to the sounds eerily similar to a gas leak. The room was toasty warm in the morning, though.
– An unforeseen offshoot of the radiator issue was a can of coke I had left on the window sill to naturally cool by virtue of SF evening cold. The laws of thermodynamics work in both directions, of course, and the can of coke was almost too hot to move. Oops.
I’ll make no predictions for tomorrow’s activities. There is still ample time for sight-seeing, given conducive weather conditions, but there’s no reason to double my cold exposure knowing I’ve got a game in the evening. I also plan on using their basement washing area to do some laundry before my wee-hours departure on Thursday. Sight-seeing is a fortunate side-benefit; baseball is the primary goal.