Saturday. Again, a good night's sleep (at least what I think is good night's sleep), to awaken before the alarm and get the head and body together before setting out for breakfast. Fighting it a bit, but an easy walk to and then an easy walk back, but feeling quite tired as I was sitting here hurrying through yesterday's entry before posting. I'll spare us more comments on whatever was written. Probably best I don't go back with a clearer head and read it again.

Then a nap. A good hour's sleep to get up and think about what to do now that it's after eleven. Noted both in today's paper and on Twitter that there had indeed been a protest rally last night that hadn't resulted in anyone getting hurt or arrested (I don't think anyone was arrested or damage done). No regrets on not attending, we're obviously no longer at an age or head space where we're up for such excitement, good source of pictures notwithstanding.

And then a series of Twitter posts reporting that someone had been shot by the police sometime between eight and nine at Lakeshore where the 580 Highway exits. I was walking just a block away from that intersection on the way and on the way back from breakfast without noting anything out of the ordinary. Didn't notice the intersection blocked off with yellow tape or the police cars that were parked in every which way in the Twitter posted pictures.

A short block from the farmers market, an intersection I walk through many times in any given month. Well, we'll follow up on the story as it evolves in the papers. A man had pulled over in a BMW at the side of the Highway 580 exit, sleeping, a hand gun beside him on the seat. The summoned firemen called the police when they saw the handgun. Shots were fired by the police. Dead man, no longer sleeping.

Oh, and no ghoulish thoughts to walk over there to see what I might be able to photograph. Maybe by the farmers market later, but more probably heading downtown to eat something at the City Center and see if they're working today at Latham Square. Keep it simple, stay in the rut, maybe try another nap. Saturday, after all. Keep it simple.

You're babbling.

I'm not sure there's a difference anymore: babbling or writing.

Later. And how many “I'm going to do this and not do that's” did I manage to break when I set out for the downtown this noon hour? All of them, I'm sure. The bus wasn't due to arrive for ten minutes and so a walk toward MacArthur on Grand to catch the bus at the 580 Freeway stop, noting a single police can parked under the 580 overpass in the distance on Lakeshore where they said the shooting had taken place this morning. OK, they're finishing things up.

Waiting on the bus, the farmers market underway over on the other side of the street, thinking the bus was overdue, but hadn't arrived. Lots of people about, the sun out, felt much better than I had just sitting inside the apartment and so decided to walk to the Lakeshore ATM instead of taking the bus to the ATM on Broadway. A shorter walk and maybe a picture or two of whatever remained of the shooting aftermath. Couldn't hurt.

Turns out the entire area at Lakeshore and Lake Park (a block from MacArthur) was where the shooting had occurred and it was entirely sealed off to the point you weren't able to walk to Lakeshore, but had to detour up a block over. Hmm. OK, pictures. Lots of police cars and a survey team that was taking sightings. Why surveyed sightings, I don't know, but then why would I know? Anyway, pictures before taking the walking detour and going by the ATM. A walk back toward Lake Park on Lakeshore to take pictures from the Lakeshore side and then a walk back to have a buttered bagel and coffee at the bagel shop before returning along the detour. More pictures.

Thus has one our early afternoon. A picture as I passing the lake, the sun nice, the temperature nice, the day ahead. I'm wider awake and clearer headed than I was this morning, but that's not unusual after getting outside. A good long walk, but not tired. No way to predict such things, I guess, when something is going to make you tired.

Evening. Nothing on television on a PBS fund raising Saturday night. A walk to the 7-11 look-alike for a pint of ice cream for dinner (I know, but I haven't done this in a while unless you count yesterday's package of peanuts for dinner) and, at the last minute, one of the small three shot bottles of Jack Daniels. I've eaten the ice cream, no way to avoid that, it was the ice cream that got me out of the house, but the whiskey can wait until tomorrow. Or later. Unusual not to drink it the same day, but I was never much for drinking alcohol while lying in bed watching whatever on a tablet.

Otherwise a good day. Up and down in some respects, but they're all up and down in some respects. Short periods being tired, a little fried, but nothing that lasted more than about an hour and then only if I were making notes and paying attention.