Protesting the war in Iraq

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Back when we were young and naive, Eric and Ryan and I attened a protest in San Francisco. I'd just gotten my driver's license the month before, and I made it almost to Camp Pendleton before giving the wheel to Eric.


We arrived about 9. Eric is thrilled.


As was Ryan.


Alex refused to have his picture taken. Little did he know that I didn't want a picture of his face, I wanted one of his hand. Haha! I win!


A hat Alex found on the ground.


It was reversible.


We rode the Bart. The organizers of the protest had anticipated such a move, and provided signs at the station, in case you forgot to make your own.


We got inside and there weren't all that many people.


Then we went downstairs.


This guy brought his own sign.


The zero hundred block of Market Street.


Poor Who.


Butt!


I hate kids, and even more I hate admitting that this little fucker was cute.


So cute I had to take two pictures. (Have you ever seen such cool shoes in your life?)


Totally the best sign there.


Fin.