Now that was a damn good sit.

One of those nights so warm that every slight, momentary movement of air feels like god throwing you a bone. Every window and door propped, slid and pulled so wide to encourage that one degree drop. I opened a closet door thinking there would be some cave effect and cool air would come rushing out. I guess it was cave-like - just dank.

That's how I found myself out on my 3-foot patio on the top floor of my building half an hour after the sun set, which has to be the coolest time of the day. Particularly this time of year, when it stays light until 830ish. Late enough that as the sky is still a dark orange over by the golden gate, I could hear the first drunken fight of the night breaking out in the bars on grant.

I settled into the beach chair propped on the metal grate patio, which always creates a horrific image in the very back of my mind that it will give way at any moment and I'll go flailing helplessly 4 flights down onto the pavement, pancaked. I suppressed the fear as my ass suppressed the chair, which is orange. The tension on the legs was just enough to violently pop to the next grate, sending the images flooding back.

I took a swig of my drink and kicked back, soaking in the skyline. Every light on in the buildings across the hill, except for the lone 25 story apartment building straight across the valley that someone aptly compared to a big film strip because of all the different colored windows in the staircase up the middle. I think it looks like a giant middle finger proudly flipping off downtown.

Everyone's window was open. Sirens, music, the sound of everyone enjoying themselves - except for the brawl, which sounded like it had found a winner.

Idly puffing my pipe as ships sailed into the bay behind the Saint Peter Cathedral, it was the recipe for absolute and total relaxation and contemplation. I tried to puff O's with the smoke. I got to thinking about my sister and brother in law and nephew, who just moved away and how I miss them living nearby. My quasi-sister-in-law ("Q-Sil?") is moving away too, which sucks. I gave myself an "aw shucks" and tried an "O" again. The flavor is "Captain's Spice", but just smells sort of like Main Street USA at Disneyland, which isn't all bad. I managed an ampersand and what looked like a zero with a slash through it, but no O.

Here's hoping there's more nights like this to perfect it.