Permit me to share some observations:
The first rule of travel is that the airport is under construction. It doesn't matter which airport. They all are under construction.
The second rule of travel is that you don't have to go to the bathroom until your flight is called. The corollary to that, suggested by my son, is that once you are buckled in your seat, the actual take off and ascent to "Seat Belt Sign is off" will take a very. very. long. time.
The third rule of travel is that the obnoxious child/person in the waiting area will be seated next to you.
The fourth rule of travel is that the less time you have to make a connecting flight, the farther you have to go to your connecting gate.
Which brings us to some observations about cool, foggy, San Francisco:
“The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”
-- It's foggy. To quote our bus driver, "The fog rolls in, and the fog rolls out. And leaves thousands of gallons of water." Our bus driver was very fond of that statement. Very, very fond of it.
-- You can get sun burned when it is foggy.
-- Most people in San Francisco are not from San Francisco.
-- Daily in the summer, there are tens of thousands of visitors down on Fisherman's Wharf, and we never saw a single policeman. We didn't even see a meter maid. I asked our waiter about the absence of police, and he said, "You would have to shoot someone to get a cop down here."
-- The fog rolls in, and the fog rolls out. And leaves thousands of gallons of water.
-- San Francisco has the highest level of bicyclists I have ever seen - and no - zero - bike lanes. City of Austin might take note here.
-- Open top buses are great for sight-seeing, but one can freeze to death while crossing Golden Gate Bridge at highway speeds.
-- Did I mention the fog?
It was a nice visit. We did all the touristy things down on the Wharf; toured the town on the big buses; saw where O. J. Simpson went to high school; picked up on the Hippy vibe in Haight Ashbury; crossed the bridge multiple times; saw the fog roll in, and the fog roll out; ate the clam chowder in the sourdough bread bowl; had some Ghirardelli chocolate; visited Muir Woods; looked for B. J. Hunnicutt and Peg in Mill Valley; rode the ferry back from Sausalito, and walked a few thousand miles. Uphill.