It's eleven in the morning now and I'm feeling better. No chills, a slight fever. Maybe I'll drive down and have lunch at the usual place (somehow I doubt it), maybe I'll crawl into bed and take another nap. There's a Salmon Aid festival going on in Jack London Square today, maybe I'll feel better and give it a try tomorrow. I seem to recall a similar event last year. Nothing spectacular, but a bunch of displays and information on saving the salmon and I'm into saving the salmon, having been born in Seattle and remembering many a day out on the water trying to catch one. A little pay back is needed here, maybe, saving the salmon.

You think the salmon have a chance?

You can get your head into a place where you think the entire world is coming to an end. All this crap going on, but I suspect you have to remain half upbeat, even with a cold.

Awww. The poor Prop.

I'm beginning to sound that way, don't I? It's a bit like watching a movie, a documentary of some sort, overdubbing the story. Poor me. Well, poor me is doing OK given what these things can sometimes become and I'm well with the program. I'm just not thinking of taking any pictures for a while.

Later. Back from lunch. Yes, a drive down to find a parking space right in front of the café eating something called a patty melt without the onions (tasteless, I'm afraid), potato salad and water. Not so bad, feeling pretty good for all that, a ride right back to crawl into bed. No coughing (please?), no real fever, just, you know, skating along the edge. Take care of yourself you say to yourself and you'll dodge the bullet. So we're sitting here dodging bullets in Oakland on a sunny Saturday in June.