Two years ago I was introduced to the writings of Herb Caen. He was good friends with my boss and when they found out I hadn’t even heard of him I was relegated to the corner with a few books and I couldn’t come out until I had swore my undying devotion to him. This excerpt of his column is from 1960 and kind of makes me tear up a little.

THE CITY, old, familiar, mellow; you feel you know every inch of it; like a face you see every day. As you drive home along Grant Ave. on The Hill, you see the young newlyweds who just moved into the apartment next door, painting the walls in their uncurtained living room, and you feel a twinge of envy. They have a lifetime before them — a lifetime to fall in love with the wonderful town you’ve known so long, so long.