Retirement Existence
Sunday. Clear and bright, this morning, none of the overcast low lying fog we've been having for the last week so I suspect it will get up into the nineties today. OK. These things happen. The Nihonmachi Street Fair is playing this afternoon in San Francisco, the trip requiring a bus ride after getting off BART hauling a camera with a big telephoto lens. Ah, well. I've done it before, I'll do it again, but I know you all have nothing but sympathy for me hauling the damned thing through ninety degree weather. Well, eighty degree weather, it being San Francisco right by the ocean and all.
Other than that? Well, up reasonably early driving to breakfast around eight, an omlett for a change. My favorite morning café, I'm afraid, serves what must be called a standard American breakfast: not inexpensive large servings with enough calories to fuel an average person for about a week with a selection of cholesterol laden entries we all know much too well.
My waitress L always brings me a mixed fruit entry along with a large cup of coffee when I arrive, the mixed fruit on the house. My guess is this is because I'm considered a good customer, that she is appreciative because I tip at more than twice the going rate or she's worried about the longer term effects of my diet coming in, as I do, most every morning day in and day out. I watch what I eat, the waffle, for example, consumed without butter or syrup, but I have two eggs over easy more often than not and “watching” does not necessarily imply doing anything about it.
I have this feeling I'm not going to make the Nihonmachi Street Fair in San Francisco today, maybe check out Jack London Square instead. Maybe drive downtown and, if there's a parking space near a BART entrance, take that as a sign from heaven and park. Bring the D3 with the long lens. Maybe.
Later. A drive downtown, a parking space, BART, then a 38 Geary bus to the Nihonmachi Street Fair, the ride on the 38 Geary, one of these articulated buses with two (count 'em two) rear exits, a lesson in buses gone wrong. Standing room only packed like sardines, at least half the people entering the bus through the rear doors and not paying a fare.
Still, the head felt great, an hour of shooting, back home in good time around four. In comparing this trip with my last outing to the same area earlier this summer, this was better by far, the head just fine, thank you, the attitude excellent.
Hup! Hup! Hup!
Indeed. Now it's after six, two flasks of Ozeki into the evening (two flasks is enough, the bottle empty) and I'm thinking of taking a nap. The temperature, by the way, was quite nice in San Francisco with a light cool breeze, much warmer here in Oakland from what I felt when I got off BART. The weather people say a high of seventy-nine in Oakland, which feels about right. Pretty exciting, this retirement existence, don't you think?
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