I ordered Devil's Tango: How I Learned the Fukushima Step by Step online from the publisher. They took the order yesterday and then informed me this morning it was being reprinted (through unusual demand) and the new edition would ship on the 12th. So good. I'd like to see what the Fukushima down side is when it's related by someone considered a reliable journalist (no flying saucer stories on her resume). We are not big on having nuclear reactors in our backyard (as in on the planet). Black Swans and such.

Later. Still running right along in our usual rut routine: breakfast and back, post yesterday's entry, start one for today, check the various news sites and then head out the door with whatever chosen camera and lens we decided to take out into the light. So I headed over to the lake - where else? - to sit by the white columned pergola, take a snapshot or two of the goslings feeding like little vacuum cleaners humming along with their parents, who were keeping watch.

Pretty exciting, even for me, so I ambled back here to check more of the usual online news sources and to start this, but not before catching this focused young woman oblivious to the world while winding up her set of exercises. Lots going on in this world I know nothing about, serious exercise and focused young ladies being two on that list. Now it's time to get the hell outside again like some kind of preprogrammed yo-yo living it's yo-yo life.

Are you upset?

No, I'm just watching, noting I'm the yo-yo and not the guy holding the string.

Later still. A bus downtown, thinking I'd get a cup of coffee out in front of Peet's (but cut half and half with water), to find it closed along with most everything else around. A picture or two of another mural done at the entrance to Justin Herman Plaza before walking on to the Chinese Cultural Center to sit at a bench and eat an ice cream cone as I watched the fountain, the sinus-upper palate thing doing its thing in the background. So far, so good, if an aching sinus-upper palate can find a place in a definition of good.

Are we bitching?

Maybe a little. A walk to the bus and then a trip back on beyond the apartment to the morning café for a grilled cheese sandwich, a scoop of green tea ice cream and a Diet Coke. Come to think of it, that's the ice cream I had earlier in a cone. Ah, well. Habits, you know. A walk then back to the apartment.

When I'd been out earlier I'd noticed this dance group setting up, but didn't take any pictures as they hadn't all assembled yet. I noticed them playing across the way later when I was waiting on the downtown bus, but for whatever reason decided to stay with the bus, I've photographed this group before and, well, something welled up inside and said “bus, go with the bus”.

So I was somewhat surprised to see them still going after what must have been two or three hours, doglegged over and took a couple of quick pictures. I was tired and (I may have mentioned this) my sinuses were beating on drums of their own at the back of my head. Salsa sinuses on a Sunday in the park. A title for a song?

So we're back, I'm sitting here with the fan blowing nicely from its place on the floor, the news droning in the background, the balance of an afternoon ahead. Guitar is the usual choice at this point, we're on a guitar roll this week, might as well see if we can keep the pace.

Hup?

Hup.

Evening. Guitar and an Amazon movie through the Roku box. When's the last time I've watched something through Roku? Probably when I had the Netflix subscription and even then I preferred trading DVD's through the mail. Ah, well. Gives you an idea what was on television, my very limited no cable choice of television, last night.

The Bill Moyers program was very good, the psychological underpinnings of both liberals and conservatives, what drives all these political fights. Pretty good, although I have no idea who watches Bill Moyers other than other liberals upset with the whole shooting match. Still, much to consider. We're so good at consideration said Mr. Moyer's guest last night. And are we not?

You'll chart new bounds to nausea if you continue with this.

Sometimes it's best just to let your hair hang down and let some of it out.