[Journal Menu]

[Home Page]


[100 Books]

[Other Sites]

Here In Oakland

Art & Life


March 22, 2013

The Runners
Friday. To bed early enough, but I turned off the alarm this morning and slept in another forty-five minutes. So be it. Anyway, off to breakfast and back to futz around here before heading to the guitar lesson; this, as it happens, my guitar teacher's birthday. Fifty years old today. My, my. Another one crossing a decade mark, seems to be endemic.

A good lesson, some conversation on where we go from here. We're learning the Stone's Wild Horses, the chords anyway, I'll pick up the melody later. Hup! Nice song. Good to be back, but we'll see how long this enthusiasm lasts.

A trip by the supermarket on the way back from the lesson to pick up spaghetti and cottage cheese, two items that won't disturb any ocular creatures from their sleep. I hope. The market had run out of the red clam sauce I like last week when I'd gone by and so I'd checked Amazon to see if they had it online. The total for a case of twelve cans through Amazon came in lower than the twelve can price posted at the supermarket, freight included, so I ordered the case and it's scheduled to arrive today. Hence today's need to buy spaghetti. You understand.

Later. The bus was coming as I walked by the stop, so I took the bus downtown during the noon hour. Not the best time to be thinking of sitting out at a table, the noon hour crowd, but a bus was coming and I was there and you ignore signs from the sky at your peril.

A walk through the City Center, a walk over to the farmers market on 9th, a walk on then to the Asian Cultural Center for an ice cream cone to sit and eat it out beside the fountain. Yes, camera in hand, but not one damned picture. No complaints. If I wanted a picture I could have raised the camera and pushed the button. Yes I could, I've done it before.

I'd thought of staying on the bus beyond my stop and riding on to the morning café for something more than ice cream for lunch, but I wasn't hungry enough and it was close to two when their kitchen closes. The spaghetti sauce was sitting propped against my apartment door - I have friendly neighbors - and so dinner is settled.

You won't make your own?

I did when I was in the wine business. It's not difficult, they say fresh ingredients are good for you (they do) and I've made my share. I still have the cooking gear. But tomorrow, of course, right now we're sitting here babbling, treading water.

Still, a little variety would be nice. Then, when they put out the recall - all those people in the hospital - you wouldn't have eaten so much of it.

I think about such things, I write about such things, but I rarely do anything about them. Until tomorrow, of course.

Evening. A clear head this day, some energy. Nothing to watch at six, so practice the new chord sequences. Playing an individual chord is straightforward, but changing from one to another on the beat, particularly if the fingering is at all complicated, is the trick and the trick is to practice. Unfortunately.

To bed early. The Oakland marathon is coming up on Sunday, we'll take it easy tomorrow (they're saying clear seventy degree weather well into next week) and get ready to photograph the runners.

The photo up top was taken at the San Francisco Saint Patrick's Day Parade with a Nikon D4 mounted with a 70-200mm f 2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.