Saturday. Quite warm yesterday, heating up after noon and then continuing right through and into the evening, and so to sleep with the fan running at the foot of the bed not long after ten. Up no more than once during the night and awakening early at six (within a minute of six) and take my time getting up, thinking it's overcast out there, a low lying fog, and I really didn't want to walk this morning in the dark. This conversation continued as it approached seven and, still not looking any lighter, I headed out the door and walked to breakfast. So there's still a sliver of paranoia left from the theft.

Still, an easy enough walk to breakfast, the farmers market people setting up across the way in Splash Pad Park, a picture of the Grand Fare market (on the way home) because how could I not? Actually, a picture going to breakfast as well, but it wasn't as good as the one taken on the way back.

So an overcast morning, a weekend ahead. There's the Rockridge Out & About street fair tomorrow, which I plan to photograph, but isn't there something else I can use to get me out the door today? Fleet Week in San Francisco holds no interest, but we'll see. We'll check and, if there's nothing to be found, there's always those two sections of apartment house construction photographs to finish and post. Maybe I can talk myself into starting a third. Probably just dreaming, but who really knows?

Later. A little slow this morning, but the sky cleared by noon and so out the door thinking I'm hungry, but not able to think of anything I wanted to eat or anywhere I might like to go to (not) eat it. Thus being the case we headed over to the lake, as we always opt to head over to the lake. The farmers market didn't appeal, no thoughts of ice cream at the Lakeshore shop and so back along Grand to the corner café by the apartment house construction site, more to stay out longer than with anything they may have on their menu.

An apple thing (they make a good apple thing, I'm sure it's shot full of sugar and high fructose corn syrup, but what the hell, good is good) and coffee sitting at one of their window tables before heading back to the apartment and finishing that second section of apartment house construction site photos. Which I posted.

Again, sunny and nice outside, reasonably nice in here now that it's three in the afternoon. Time still left in the day, but not sure I have any day left in me. Deedle-dee-dee.

Later still. Watched a couple of things on the tablet and then, having gotten up at four to watch a television program, I seem to have zoned out during the last half hour of the episode to a degree that the second half seemed unrelated to the first half as if totally unrelated programs, all the while the mouth tasting more and more like something you'd want to discard in the trash. Hmm. Where and when have we experienced something like this before?

An ocular incident that I didn't realize had become an ocular incident until it was over, leaving the real world and returning to it to then notice the fact well after it had happened. Couldn't think of anything I'd eaten today to blame it on. That apple pastry? I suspect not.

Evening. More futzing with the tablet in bed, taking it easy after the ocular incident, to get up and watch On The Waterfront, the Saturday Night movie on PBS. Released in 1954, one year before my family moved from a suburb of Edmonds, Washington to Yonkers, New York. Did I see it at the Edmonds theater at the age of eleven? The iconic quote of the fifties: “I coulda been a contender”. Had I, have I ever seen it? I'm thinking maybe not.

The Wild One, released the year before in 1953, following the showing of On The Waterfront, well, I've certainly seen it before, probably more than once before, although I'm not sure when. In the theater, probably the Bronxville theater, a year or two after it was originally released, but it too a much written about cultural icon prepping my generation for our teenage passage through the 50's.

Are we babbling here?

We are, after the effect of an earlier ocular migraine-like episode, talking about one actor and two of his movies, the first one I watched last night for maybe fifteen minutes before going to bed and crashing, the second I could have probably watched without incident again, but obviously not after I'd bailed on The Waterfront. And yes, we're at a minimum wandering, if not outright babbling. Not an uncommon end to an evening, here in Oakland.