Although America is doing its best not to let us leave (I write this from a San Francisco hotel some 18 hours after our cancelled flight home should have departed), it is time to say farewell.
Farewell to the amazing cities which look a bit like they do in the movies and on tv, but with surprises around every corner.
Farewell to the people who strike up conversations in bars, recommend what’s best on the menu to two confused tourists, and give cross-country driving suggestions.
Farewell to the homeless and the streets lined with trash bags each night.
Farewell to the great meals and the enormous piles of fried things and the insistence that potato is a breakfast food.
Farewell to summer weather.
Farewell to the energy and vibrancy of life, the mixture of principles and passion in people all across the country, whatever they may be doing.
Farewell to the honking cabs and crowded sidewalks.
Farewell to the grand edifices and miles of museums celebrating history and democracy and dead presidents.
Farewell to Picasso and Matisse and Miro and Warhol and Rothko.
Farewell to the places where I have created fantastic memories with the man who I love.
We’ll be back.