Tourists don't have all the fun around here. I rode The Ducks yesterday. (They are amphibious vehicles that spend half the tour riding through city streets and half the tour in the bay.) Riders are given lovely yellow "quackers" to blow on throughout the trip. I had no idea I held so much hot air. I reverted back to my inner 8-year-old, and quacked away crazily at pedestrians. I found their reactions very interesting. Some people refused to acknowledge us (there were more crazy quackers on board than just me); others smiled like 8-year-olds; 8-year-olds and under smiled and usually waved, too. But what really amazed me, is that no one--not a single person--gave use the finger! I have no idea what these observations mean, except I had one crazy good time. I've always been envious of San Francisco tourists who are out there enjoying my beloved city while I toil away at real life. I've found the best cure is to join them on occasion, by spending the night in a San Francisco hotel or elbowing in on one of their tours.
Sincerely,
Carole Terwilliger Meyers