A Decent Run
A funky day, but a pre-vertigo funky day, a Sunday in other words. A good mood. Breakfast at the usual place, a bus ride downtown, a walk down and around Jack London Square running into a Channel 4 News crew asking passers by to comment on the current run at the record for murders here in Oakland. What did I think? Not much. I've read the statistics, haven't noticed any bodies on the sidewalk, my outlook might change if I were to stumble upon one, otherwise it's another headline in the current horror show of earthquakes, bombs, bullets and recall elections. Keeps rents down and housing affordable is the thought you have going into denial. A short interview destined for the cutting room floor.
A BART ride to Berkeley, check out the local off the wall card shop for a birthday card, found three possibles, bought the three, will probably decide none of them are appropriate and email my congratulations. (One should celebrate birthdays.)
Word that an artist friend from the 70's is dead of a self inflicted gunshot wound as police surrounded his house. Gives you pause to reflect at an age when demons roam: there are many out there bigger and scarier than your own; way bigger, way scarier. Good luck MRC. Sorry to hear how it ended. At least you had a decent run.
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