Pacific Heights isn't really my home turf. I'm more of a Tenderloin kind of person. I did make the effort to ride my old Schwinn one speed bike up all the hills to his palace. I had to stop several times to smoke a cigarette, and I was completely out of breath upon arrival. The English butler, fully decked out, answered the front door. He was a bit terse, but you know how the English can be.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Pinus cannot be disturbed at the moment. No longer a billionaire boy, he has a bad case of melancholia. He resting at the moment in full fetal position in front of the fireplace. His wife and children are on an extended vacation in Tel Aviv. I have been give specific instructions not to awaken him."
So much for hospitality. I wasn't even offered a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. I must say the views of Alcatraz were positively stunning. I found some irony in that.
My network of former zyngsters who for 2 years have reported Mr. Pinus to be a despicable character now report that the family (wife+kids)shifted from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem... better bomb shelters. Funny that you bicycled by this week, I drove by this week and tried to time it so that I may enjoy the sunset dropping behind the mansion, but I was struck by rancid karma, the haunted, creepy feel of the property, so I just accelerated & sped past BUT unfortunately accidentally glimpsed the beedy-eyed little hook nose creep slump past a window. The sight of him not only spoiled my sunset but brought flash backs that I still am $11 bag holder and brought up my envy, jealousy and sadness and reminded me that I am no match for these tribesmen!