Member Jeff.Weiss

I live in an 110-year-old house in San Francisco with my wife and two kids. If I go to the roof, set up a step ladder and climb to the top, I can see the Golden Gate Bridge. However, it's probably a lot easier to ride my bike to the bridge. I try to bike as much as possible, especially through Golden Gate Park or near the ocean.

Ah, the smell of the sea!

Speaking of the sea, one day I was jogging barefoot on the beach. I was a little worried because the beach was littered with dinner-plate-sized jellyfish. I asked one of the surfers if the jellyfish stung. He said they stung, but only a little bit. I wondered what he meant by "only a little bit." Fortunately, he gave me an example.

"In fact," he said, "I was sitting on my board, waiting for a wave. For the amusement of my buddies, I pulled one out of the water and put it on top my head like it was a lady's hat."

I no longer worry about stepping on jellyfish on that beach.

I got the idea for "Fourth and Ape" at the dinner table. The inspiration was my son. He refused to eat his vegetables, so I made up the story to distract him. My Uncle John - to whom this book is dedicated - used to make up stories to tell his nieces and nephews. They were mostly ghost stories.

In particular, I remember, "Gitchie Goomie, The Tree that Thirsts for Human Blood" By the way, Gitchie Goomie is the Native American word for Lake Superior, but we didn't know that.

On Monday night, rain or shine, I run with the San Francisco Hash House Harriers, which makes a game out of running. It fools me every week! I forget the pain of running and look forward to doing it all over again. The beer and the snacks play a role in re-stoking my enthusiasm.

I should be going, after all, "Brevity is the very soul of wit." Polonius says that to Claudius in Hamlet. Of course, this is a joke because Polonius is an incredible windbag.

Save that tidbit for the next cocktail party. Then - as a favor to me - bring up how much you liked "Four and Ape." Enjoy yourself!