I went to that last show by myself, and had a cosmic moment when I asked Cha, the drummer who I've seen play in several different bands, if she had been in any bands before I first saw her play with Matt and Tony (called Nectar). She smiled, and said yes, then looked shocked for a moment as Matt and the other guy in her first band (before Tony, called Hear) walked up.

It was the breakup show, and they had problems with the sound balance at the Rio. I couldn't hear Mauri's tasty lead guitar, and that was a big problem. I had to move myself around the room to get the mix I wanted. Or maybe it was Leslie's 96-year old grandmother seated in the very front that intimidated the sound guy, I don't know. For a while it was only bass and drums, which is fine for your average punk band, but did these girls a disservice.

Befor the last song Mauri gave Leslie a kiss on the cheek. After the song she acted at smashing her guitar with little damage, until Leslie picked up Mauri's guitar and gave it a few whacks of her own. The last thing I saw after the show was Mauri's friend carefully inspecting the damage, saying it was repairable. I told him to thank Mauri for the music, and walked out.

For me a trip to San Francisco is usually a spiritual journey. I fear more will be required in the near future, to contemplate what the world could have been, what it might get to someday, and why things are the way they are now. And some day I'll tell you my stories of Harold Stassen. Kudos to whomever can figure out the connection.