I forced my family to come along on Sunday to watch the last race of the America’s Cup World Series.
It was fun, although it did mean spending an hour sitting on the seawall (rocks).
And I have no pictures of the race itself, although here is a picture of a replica of the America, the boat that won the first America’s Cup, which is why it is called the America’s Cup in the first place. (That’s Alcatraz in the background.)
Here it is again — imagine what it must have been like to race that!
Before and after the race there was an air show. It was Fleet Week, which seems to mean an air show.
I was kind of ho hum about the air show. Yes, some kind of jet with colorful exhaust. Then some old oddly shaped fighter planes. Then a 747 flying very low. (Odd to see a normal passenger plane in an air show, I thought.)
Then we walked along the field, which I realize was once an air strip, to the end near the bridge. There’s a warming hut there where you can get a cappuccino and buy a souvenir or two. Just as we approached, the Blue Angels came screeching over the bridge, and then I was impressed as I jumped out of my skin.
I’m not the type to care much for gratuitous displays of military strength, but the Blue Angels are sort of amazing. All last week they’ve been screeching by office windows, causing people to drop their coffee or their teeth. I’m usually inclined to think about all the wasted jet fuel, but I admit that when you see them zooming right over the bridge or climbing straight up, about 2 feet from each other, before all splitting up like a firework, it’s hard not to think it would be really fun to fly one, assuming you didn’t throw up.