The Mind Reels
Saturday. A glance at the kitchen calendar before heading out for breakfast this morning noticing for the first time the How Weird Street Faire is scheduled for Sunday. My, my. I've been fretting over the fact this month had no parades or events scheduled and there was one right in front of my nose. So good. We'll go and take pictures.
Back from breakfast now in good fettle having gone by the supermarket for cat food. I was down to feeding her pieces cut from a roast chicken I'd bought Thursday. I think she's eaten more of it than I have. Still, better than a hungry cat who's not so much complaining, you understand, but giving me pitiful looks as she's, well, starving.
She's not starving.
No, but it sounds better that way on paper. “Please, sir. Can I have some more?” Best to know there's a fall back position if all else goes cat food kablooey: they sell roast chickens at the supermarket. And fish, of course. It's a small cat, I guess I could keep her in a diet better than my own. Small portions and all.
I believe the quote is: “Please, sir, I want some more.”
I know, I know. I was thinking “Please, sir, may I have some more?”, looked the damned thing up and found all three. Wikipedia, which is probably accurate, had “Please, sir, I want some more”, but I liked “can I have some more” better.
No everybody has the balls to rewrite Dickens.
You don't see Oliver Twist on my 100 Favorite Books list. I'm one of the dim bulbs that never got beyond Conan Doyle. And maybe Fowles in his Magus years. And Deighton. Still like Deighton.
Later. I do seem to have a burning need to get out of here once I'm home from breakfast. A walk down to the bus stop at nine-thirty, a ride downtown to have a small coffee and a chocolate bar out on the patio in front of Peet's (where else?). I realize I pick coffee shops for their patios, for their outside seating. I'm not sure I care about the coffee, one way or another, but this limits me somewhat in my choices. I wonder why? A fall back is a café with a high ceiling, lots of space up top. Can't say why that's the case either.
Still, a nice morning, colder than yesterday, I needed to sit in the sun and sip some of that coffee to keep warm in a t-shirt and a light jacket. A picture of the Monkey Paw, Kangaroo Paw, just because. Lots of people out for an early morning Saturday was my thought. Lots of bicycles too. Every bicycle rack, and there are a lot of them in downtown Oakland, the upside down “U” shaped pipes they have set into the sidewalks, for some reason it seemed every one I passed had two or three bikes locked to each one this morning. Something to do with this? Made me sensitive to bikes on my walk back, taking a picture of this. You'd suppose there was a story here, not unlike finding automobile window glass scattered at a curb.
Another picture of Bakesale Betty's (no, I don't know why I keep doing this either) to show their lack of a sign. There's a large piece of paper taped to a window on which they've scrawled their hours (11 - 2: Monday through Friday), but that's about it.
A walk back to the apartment feeling pretty good, no thought to wait on a bus. A picture of a couple passing me on the sidewalk (I walk slowly) taken on the fly as they pulled in front, a close up of the lady's legs. I'm not sure what I think about all the tattoos you see on younger men and women, you see a lot of them. Part of me says there's an appreciation for art here, for one of the visual arts, and the more of that the better.
Will they be happy with their dragons and ladies and clever inked expressions in another thirty years? Well, maybe yes, maybe no. Lots of things you can do at that age to be unhappy about thirty years later, you know from your own experience what some of them are. I suspect being into decorative body “art” is not unlike being into the music of the moment. For most, listening is more a fitting in with the culture and its fashions than any inherent appreciation that will last. But what do I know? I'm the guy who doesn't listen to his music with anything approaching the passion of the past.
So, it's just before noon, the head pretty good, the attitude better. What's on the plate for a Saturday? The question I've asked now each noon for the last three years. Sometimes I find an answer, sometimes I don't.
Later still. For some reason I needed to get out again, went for a walk down by the farmer's market across from the Grand Lake theater, shot a couple of pictures to no good effect except I was interested in the earring on this guy, realizing there are other ways to set yourself apart than tattoos.
Lunch, a salad, at the usual café, the place, the streets, the farmer's market, the lake really crowded today with all kinds of people getting out in the sun. Maybe this financial crash is turning around. Maybe getting out for a walk is less expensive than going to a show or an amusement park. Or maybe the sun brings the people out and I have not a clue. Tired, though. A good day. Maybe some more work on the framing project. The mind reels. As you may know.