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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


September 11, 2018


Tuesday. OK, a bit fried last night and so to bed to awaken at six-thirty. Not a bad time, a little later than usual, but it allows consistently arriving after the morning restaurant has opened, no waiting on the first employee to arrive. A little slow walking, the head not quite awake. Wondered about that, but otherwise in good shape.

The blood pressure was running a little higher yesterday when I measured it at four in the afternoon - 131/76 - and so took a half dose of the med, still running at 137/77 at seven forty-five and 131/69 at eight-forty and so was happy to see 105/70 when I got up this morning. I do need to resolve this blood pressure business. He said.

The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast and coffee while reading depressing things about climate change and the current government. Odd to think maybe it was best I was born when I was, given what's coming in the near future. Yes, I have these thoughts, wish I were wrong in having them.

Home to find yesterday's entry a mess, having stopped writing after returning home from the Broadway ATM. But we'll leave it at that. A sunny day today, the air pollution visible on the walk home and finding scooters scattered along the sidewalk by people who'd used them while I was at breakfast. Another day, in other words, here on 9-11, some seventeen years after.

Later. Fiddled about until two in the afternoon before taking a bus to the City Center to have a turkey and Swiss bagel sandwich with coffee at the bagel shop, sitting in a t-shirt at an outside table in the sun. Finished and walked home. So good, a thirty minute walk without sitting down briefly on a bench to rest as I did with the shorter walk home I took yesterday.

Would you like a pat on the head?

I should have brought a different camera (with the wide angle 24mm zoom to get everything in the picture) for the apartment house building at 17th, but otherwise a head patting adventure.

I did watch the end of the PBS News Hour when I got home and watched a segment on the rule revisions the administration has made on methane emissions in which the N.Y. Times reporter in the interview mis-stated that methane was twenty-five percent more potent than CO2 in trapping heat. It's twenty-five to thirty times more potent, twenty-five to thirty thousand percent, in other words, not just twenty-five percent. An understandable slip, but I wish they'd caught it.

A little picky, don't you think?

It, for whatever reason, was frustrating enough to comment.

Evening. A bit fried, but conscious enough to be writing here instead of finishing it tomorrow morning. Slipped my mind earlier that I'd taken a bath before heading downtown, but I do tend to forget things more often. By often I don't mean the short time it takes to go into another room to find I'd forgotten what it was I was after. Others do that too, I know, not worried about them as the memory soon returns, but forgetting having taken a bath while writing up above? I don't take them nearly as often as I did in the past and forgetting it for some reason seemed, um, odd.

You want to admit to that? Not taking baths as often?

I have occasionally felt discomfort as to how long I've been willing to let them go.

This attempt at clarity has dribbled into incoherence.

As they now often do. Embarrassing, you'd think.

The Oakland Gay Pride Gay Pride Street Festival taken with a Nikon D5 mounted with a 70-200mm f 2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.