By Louie Ferrera

Mitch, Andy and I are as close as friends can be. We’ve shared  countless blissful times together over the course of our more than three decade friendship. Our annual boy’s weekends are much anticipated touchstones in our lives. The following is an account of one such day on a recent trip.

It was a day unlike any of the other days that we’ve spent together throughout the ten year history of our boy’s weekends. We were in the flow, moving like a well oiled machine through the streets of beachside San Diego. We were in love with everyone and everyone was in love with us.

It’s 8:00am and the guy behind the counter of the mom and pop market near our rental is all smiles. He beams at us as he rings up our sale (one stick of butter). There’s something about his sunny attitude and this brief encounter that sets the tone for the day. Across the street is a coffee shop that occupies a narrow storefront between two larger buildings. Andy needs more coffee so we head over. I hear “Go Giants” and look down to see Maddy a Bay Area transplant who notices my Giants cap, recognizing me as a kindred spirit. Her brilliant, toothy smile and bright blue eyes are framed by perfectly straight copper colored hair that falls past her shoulders. Maddy was at one of the most legendary games in Giants history: Matt Cain’s perfect game in 2012. She was ten, I was watching the game with my family in Hawaii. The energy around us among the small gaggle of customers waiting for their coffee is vibrant, all things seem possible. The barista is Maddy’s friend, she’d dispensing caffeinated drinks with purpose and a smile on her face. Mitch chats up a guy whom he has a Sayulita, Mexico connection with, it’s one of those small world things. Andy gets his coffee and we cruise back to our place, buoyed by the promising start to our day. We can feel that special things are in store.

Once back home, we team up to make the perfect breakfast: cheesy eggs with Italian sausage and English muffins. When the clock strikes 10, out comes the tequila. Glasses are clinked and shots are consumed as we toast to another day of brotherly love and adventure. We light a “Goldilocks” joint; not too weak, not to stoney but just right and float out the door with no agenda in mind, our only plan is to put our good energy out into this quiet, overcast morning and see where it leads us.

Everyone we encounter becomes a supporting player in our little movie: the guy in the market and the folks at the coffee shop  and now our Uber driver. He’s a grizzled but jovial fellow of around 60 with a thick eastern European accent. A weathered Padres cap is perched at a jaunty angle atop his head. His Prius is still chugging along at 425 thousand miles. Mitch, Andy and I slip into our routine, playing ping pong with quips, jokes and good natured abuse. The driver slides right in there with us, his joyous cackle of a laugh fills the air inside his little rattletrap of a car. 

After a short ride, we wash up in Ocean Beach (OB). This funky little beachside community is like a Berkeley by-the-sea without the darkness and anger. The main  drag is peppered with thrift stores, curio shops, dive bars and locally owned eateries. A “freak freely” vibe permeates the air. Our first stop is a surf shop where we pick up two new cast members. Lizzie and Michaela are sweet, funny and full of life. We get into this absurd routine with them about Mike’s Taco Club. Mike’s is a taqueria down the block that we had tried on a previous trip. It’s a mediocre eatery and the epitome of “gringo” Mexican cuisine. We couldn’t figure out why it was so crowded. Mike’s has been the butt of our jokes ever since. But Lizzie and Michaela love it, especially the “Cali burrito” with french  fries inside. None of us could figure out why  Mike’s is called a “club”. The girls know all of their lines and so do we, it’s all so hilarious. Older gents like us rarely get to interact in any meaningful way with twenty-somethings like these two girls. Their goofy energy and willingness to go along with our silliness pushes us forward.

The pale green neon sign of Pacific Shores has just been lit, signaling that it’s finally noon and opening time for one of OBs oldest dive bars. Inside it’s dark and deserted. We’re the first customers and are greeted  from behind the bar by busty and bouncy redhead Anna. We settle onto our stools, order a round of Bloody Mary’s and the banter begins. Anna is funny and sharp witted and slips right into our routine. She knows how to handle goofy drunk guys like us. No celery? No problem. Mitch heads to the store to buy a stalk while Anna fixes our drinks; her saucy attitude, crimson hair and low cut, bright red tank top fuels our imaginations. Next up is Joe. Into the bar he strolls looking dapper in a rumpled grey suit with a wide, pale blue tie and a matching triangle of  handkerchief peeking out from his breast pocket. His sandy colored hair spills out from under a natty straw fedora and reaches to the middle of his back. His electric blue eyes are alive with mischief. Joe is an attorney celebrating a successful morning in court with a glass of white wine. He’s a regular at Pacific Shores, he and Anna chat amiably. Joe lives most of the year in Argentina and was once a stand up comic. He’s a raconteur supreme and keeps the stories and one-liners flowing. If I were in trouble, I’d definitely want this guy beside me in court. I just take it all in happy to be a supporting player. We stay for another round of bloody’s, blinking in the bright, early afternoon light as we exit the bar.

The flow that we’re in right now is simply incredible. Neither of us want to say anything about it for fear of breaking the spell. We’re in love with everyone and everyone is in love with us has become our mantra for the day. Over the course of our more than three decades friendship, Mitch, Andy and I have built up quite a repertoire. Being out in public and roping strangers into our movie is what we do best. People pick up on our camaraderie and love for one another and are all too happy to join in on the fun. We cast a wide net and shine a light on everyone who falls within it. Today everything feels effortless. We’re good vibe merchants, our mission is to spread the joy.

By now we’re really floating and decide it’s time for a cannabis booster so we stroll the three blocks to the beach and light up. The ocean is slate grey  and calm, a derelict pier juts out from where we sit. The surf is mellow, a handful of surfers swish back and forth across the face of small waves. On this overcast day, usually sunny San Diego is subdued and the perfect fit for our stoned state of mind.

With the booze and the weed comes the munchies so to a highly recommended sandwich shop we go next. Pomo is old school OB, an unassuming little box of a building. This no frills eatery serves up scrumptious sammies that we would soon devour. Mitch never looked up from his meatball sub while Andy and I were digging on authentic Italian “hoagies”. While waiting for our order we strike up a conversation with sweet young Chula. She’s all dreadlocks, olive skin and 100 watt smile with a personality to go with it. She’s got two guys in tow, Andy makes a connection with one of them who it turns out has spent some time in Bend, Oregon where Andy lives. This comes as no surprise considering the charmed and serendipitous nature of our day so far. We banter back and forth with Chula and her boys, they slip effortlessly into our movie. We are magnets for happy people and loving vibes and continue on, high on the symbiosis of it all.

It’s been like 20 minutes since our last cocktail so our next destination is the North Shore Tavern, a watering hole recommended by Chula. In contrast to the dark dive bars we usually frequent on our trips, North Shore is airy and modern with large doors that open to the outside. My canine loving companions spy a booth of thirty-somethings enjoying drinks with their dog in tow and head over to introduce themselves. Instead of playing pool (we only manage one drunken game) we spend the better part of the next hour and a half drinking and laughing with this merry crew half our age and become fast friends. California native Jordan, a chill and smiling young man with a scruffy beard and an unkempt head of hair is flanked by sisters Natalie and Erica who are transplants from Kentucky. Erica’s riveting, dark-rimmed blue eyes and angular face are reminiscent of Meryl Streep. As it turns out, Jordan was once a student at a middle school where Andy was once assistant principal. The rapport flows and so do the drinks. All three of these young folks are bright and witty,  the conversation never lags. Their pal Lilly shows up later, her goofy persona and ready smile adds an extra dose of silliness to the proceedings. After numerous selfies are dutifully taken we say our goodbyes and let the wind take us where it will.

By now it’s late afternoon and I’m feeling ready to dial up the Uber and head back to our rental. However Mitch has other ideas and suggests we take one last walk down to the beach. We get there and voila, there’s Jamm, a quartet of young guys putting on an impromptu concert from the back of their pick up truck. So we get stoned again (why not?). These kids are really playing their hearts out. The three of us exchange stoned smiles and get into the groove with the band. We hear a familiar riff and just like that the band is into the Grateful Dead gem Help On The Way. No one is singing so I jump up there. The guys in the band give me nods of approval, I grab the mic and sing a couple of verses before they noodle off into another jam. Can this day possibly get any better?

Our penultimate Uber of the day takes us away from OB and to a nondescript Ethiopian restaurant near downtown. The dining room is a completely unadorned box of white cinderblock walls. A huge tv sits in one corner playing Ethiopian music videos. It’s a surreal scene. After a short wait,  a delicious platter of vegetarian entrees and injera bread (injera is to Ethiopian cuisine what tortillas are to Mexican) is placed before us which we hungrily devour. After dinner we head home, happy, sated and elated.

Have you ever had a day like this? If so, then you know how very rare and precious they are. Every decision we made today was the right one. Actually, it was more like the decisions were being made for us and we were just along for the ride. All of the people we interacted with today seemed to sense that they were part of something special. They picked up on our happiness and added their own positivity and good vibes to the mix until we were all part of one big feedback loop of joy. Hopefully, dear reader, you’ve gotten some sense of how effortlessly special this day was for me and my two brothers from other mothers. But in the end, you really just had to be there.