I Write About Love; Belle and Sebastian, my guide; competition high.

I’ve mixed feelings about being on the tail end of the Write About Love timeline. On one hand, I theoretically had extra time to get my act together and pen something poetic, prosaic, or purposeful; on the other hand, I now need attempt to live up to some of the wondrous wordsmithery of my colleagues. Obviously, I didn’t take advantage of the former, and as regards the latter, I clearly don’t have the literary chops to match the outstanding opening salvo of Nils Bernstein, Dean Bein’s worship of wax (and perhaps ode to newly-found freedom), the familial fondness of Matt Harmon, Patrick Amory’s soul-baring recollections, or even somehow find a way to pair the seemingly disparate concepts of love and the Zip Code Rapists like my partner-in-radio-crime, Hector Montes. What could I do to standout, to not just wade in the quagmire of common composition? As I listened to the Belle and Sebastian catalog on shuffle for inspiration, “I’m A Cuckoo” and its mention of Harajuku slammed my brain out of neutral and in a rare moment of mental acuity, I had my answer: haiku. What follows is my attempt to showcase some of what I love in a mere 17 syllables per paean.

Jennifer, my wife,
brilliant, patient, gorgeous, kind.
my rock and best friend

At an early age,
sitting, reading gatefold art.
Addicted for life.

Premier League leaders.
Oh, Manchester United.
Please don’t choke this year

Fresh fish, crazy rolls
Kamakura for sushi
Bay Area choice

Same town rules drinks, too:
both Rosenblum, Hangar One

A’s, Niners, Spurs, Sharks
each season, heartbreak ensues
though, support I do.

Of my culled music
The Stone Roses’ first record
remains atop heap

London in the fog
pub, gigs, football, culture, food.
Best city on Earth.

In San Diego
El Zarape is a must.
Combo number three

Bad drafts, injuries
fantasy sports, you kill me.
Yet, I play each year.

Friends and family
Time fleeting, miles apart
Still, I miss you all.

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