Saturday. A decent looking morning, no complaints. The gas prices up again, nothing new about that. To bed last night at ten. I think. I ended up watching a who done it on PBS, the name of which escapes me this morning, one of those older guy memory slips. Still, a decent night's sleep.

Yes I watched the Korean soap last night, but a good part of the ball game in between including the last innings. Thank god for baseball and the time it takes to play a game. One does not want to think one has totally forgotten to watch at least one or two games of a World Series, to realize one has divorced oneself from so vital a part of the world. I'm not that far from my youth. I did play baseball. I did play football. I have a varsity letter as a bowler, after all, if bowling qualifies as a sport. It does. You can trust me, I have no axe to grind. I'm not influenced by my past.

Michael Moore came by the Occupy Wall Street site last night, gave a speech. I noted a picture in the paper, a young woman standing beside him in the picture recognizable as the young woman who's accosted me twice now for taking pictures at the plaza. Life's like that. She's a bit scattered, a bit, um, not quite there (this is not a comment on the group as a whole, they're quite pacific and articulate with one or two exceptions who don't like their pictures taken), so her protestations don't really count. Such is life. Most of it is a joke, except for those who've forgotten how to laugh, what with the things that will happen and all.

We'll go down there again later this afternoon, none of this night stuff. There's a general meeting at seven and then a march planned for eight, I believe. I don't think I need to be there since it's after dark. Don't need to be lugging the cameras around after dark and, if I did attend, I'd carry but one. More mobile, less visible, higher likelihood of avoiding anything unpleasant on an Oakland weekend.

You're painting an unfavorable image of your town.

It's a good town or I wouldn't be living here, but I do rattle on, not always to the best effect.

Later. A wasted day, I'd say. Wasted in the sense I'm wasted. Tired, a bit funky headed, but basically just tired, a condition I put to advancing age. And maybe not enough sleep last night. Or too much running around in the days prior. Still, we'll survive, but this day, I suspect, is shot.

A walk to get outside down the way to the usual café to sit outside waiting on a waitress who didn't come (I was sitting at the end somewhat out of site, but the tables were packed) so I decided to walk along back home. Not upset, just this feeling wasted business, more than a bit disengaged from the day and the thought of coffee turned out to be not sitting well with my stomach.

Interesting to note that the gas price sign had dropped back down six cents from this morning, returning to the $3.87 it had been yesterday morning (when it had jumped up from $3.85 the day before). If that's confusing, well, it is. I'm now thinking there's a switch or a dial next to his cash register and he spins it now and again just for the hell of it. Could be. They'd never tell. Be interesting to see what it says tomorrow.

A Belgian waffle with whipped cream at the farmer's market (not everything they sell at a farmer's market is good for you, although they stress it's an authentic Belgian waffle made with the real ingredients).

A picture of the building I mentioned they've been remodelling now for some time along Grand. The interior isn't anywhere near finished, so you can't tell what they have in mind from the exterior, although when asked, one of the construction people said he thought it was a coffee shop of some kind. We'll know one of these days I would imagine.

A brief sit on a bench near the white columns taking this picture. Not sure why they're sitting so close to the sidewalk and road (which you can't quite see off to the right), but the day is nice, the temperature in the low seventies and these people are enjoying themselves wherever they've chosen to sit (without asking my expert advice).

My Wikileaks t-shirt arrived. Nice, black, but long sleeved. I hadn't realized it was long sleeved, although winter is coming and long sleeved may prove the better choice. They charge somewhat more than anyone in their right mind would pay for a t-shirt, but part of the price is a donation to the cause. I bought the shirt and then sent them some more money on the side. My conscience is now clear. Mostly clear. No need to carry a protest sign (for a while). A get out of jail t-shirt, maybe. Black. With WikiLeaks printed in white where the pocket should be.

So, wasted. To bed for a bit, I think. I received Murakami's new novel yesterday, all nine hundred plus pages (that would have slowed me down had I known when I ordered) and I read the first short chapter. The book begins with a scene set in Tokyo in 1984. That first short chapter was quite nice, the writing very nice (how does it read so well when it's translated from the Japanese?) and I think I'll give it a try. From someone who says he no longer reads.

There were other books that arrived along with it.

Let's not mention that. Hard to explain buying books if you don't read. Anymore. He says.

Later still. It is nice outside. Tired, yes, but not so tired I didn't take a bus downtown and shoot some more Occupy pictures. Evidently. Because that's what I did.

It's a Saturday, a fair number of people in front of City Hall, an SEIU union group giving speeches before conducting a small march on the sidewalk along 14th, a Day of the Dead - what? - Inca dance group performing for the crowd? Shows what I know. Still, some decent pictures, a walk over to the City Center to have a chicken-apple crepe (I've been having difficulty lately thinking of anything I'm willing to eat. Breakfasts have become a problem. Keeps the weight down without getting out of hand, though.), a walk back to shoot more pictures and then a bus back home.

Have I mentioned the day is really nice, here in the late afternoon? Well, it is. I read about snow in the northeast and the concept doesn't seem to have any reality. Snow. I remember snow. Same with floods, droughts and earthquakes: things you read about in the news. There's no there there. Until one comes along. Snow, I don't think we'll see snow. Rain, be nice to have (not too much) rain. Earthquakes, don't want no earthquakes: too close to reality here near the end of the rainbow.

Evening. A long session in Photoshop going over the photographs, I seem to have enough for two additional sections. I'm quitting after creating the first ten or so pages in Dreamweaver (the HTML editor) because I really am tired. Probably not good to use a later in the day catching of a wind to go out and run around. Comes back to haunt. I'm going to go to bed early, none of that late weekend starts at ten hour long Korean soap, the dumb one with the Korean tribes, kings, queens, wars and culturally dumb stuff. I'm not going to do that. Stay up late. No I'm not.