I’m a Northern California boy, through and through. I grew up ten minutes north of Berkeley, went to college at Davis, about forty five minutes away, and then was fortunate enough to have the industry I went to school for bloom around me. I spent my post-university career living around the Bay Area, the last four years in the Mission in San Francisco. I am attuned to things that are uniquely San Francisco: burritos, surly Asian women serving me pho, co-workers into fringe politics, passive-aggressiveness.
I could hardly believe what I was looking at. There it was, staring right at me. I could no longer ignore, deny, or post-rationalize what I already knew as the digital evidence stared me down and waved its merciless accusatory finger at me. This marked the end of the line for me, three months ago to the day.
The other day I got an e-mail that was signed “Brgrds.” Brgrds?? What does that mean? Oh. Right. “Best Regards.” So, why on earth the author didn't just take the extra three (?) seconds and five key strokes to actually write the words “Best Regards,” I have no idea, but it was a big “aha!” moment for me.