The Japanese soap that plays before it, something about cute teenage quadruplets who's brains are clearly fried, is painfully dumb and I really can't watch it so, if I'm to follow the Atsu series, I'll have to wait up past my bedtime without something brainless and watchable to lead me to it holding my hand. I know, I know. Life is difficult at the end of the rainbow. So many things to handle. So much pressure. I'm sure you're all sympathetic and teary eyed having experienced similar trials and tribulations in your own difficult existence.

Pissy political comment begins:

The Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac takeover by the government might have been avoided if anyone in the Congress or the Administration had been fulfilling their oversight functions. Alan Greenspan, for one, has warned of the danger of exactly this happening for years, not that Greenspan himself doesn't hold some responsibilty for facilitating the real estate bubble when he was head of the Fed. Bailing the both of them out is probably going to cost us a hell of a lot of money and make unpleasant bumps in our lives. Want to bet they'll tighten oversight in learning from this disaster? Really? Good luck.

Pissy political comment ends:

You feel better now?

You need to get these things out of your system. This journal is a safety valve. Lets off steam. Keeps me from bending people's ears over Guinness. Mumble.

I bought three kinds of turkey based cat food for Ms. Emmy yesterday, thinking I knew what I was doing, none of which she'd eat this morning. Mumble.

Later. A much nicer temperature to be walking, the humidity under control, the sun bright, people everywhere out and about. Life at the end of the rainbow. Life across the bay from the end of the rainbow, the brain seems to require a more accurate set of standards when the temperature is in order. Across the bay from the end of the rainbow.

So we go looking for cat food later, I'm thinking. Maybe pick up some lunch. Maybe plan a trip up the coast somewhere pretty quick. Walking along the same sidewalk that I've walked along so many times for these last many years ain't cutting it, a thought that's occuring more and more often. I will be seventy years old in another five years, I need to do more than walk old sidewalks and take pictures of the same old parades.

Same old parades?

I can make it back for the parades.

Later still. A walk around Jack London Square, a boat show of some kind underway. And some changes. Palm trees. A new restaurant. When was the last time I visited? A month ago? Two months? They've done all this in two months?