Night fear is the worst. My bladder woke me at some undefinable hour, perhaps 3 AM. Right away it was apparent, I was a bit too awake. And thinking about what? Well, 'thinking' would be overstating it. I was immersed in the repetitive anticipation of my upcoming traffic accident en route to the next day's lunch. Why an accident? No particular reason necessary, of course, for it is night, the time of anxious imaginings. Oh, the drive would take me into the center of town, to the edge of the Financial Read more [...]

“This car was owned by a little old man who only drove it once a day to run errands in his neighborhood.” Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? And if you are selling used cars, and can verify this tale, it’s a perfect pitch. It’s also my reality, these days, if one substitutes ”lunch” for ”errands.” All this occurs to me as I crank up the Dodge and head to Noe Valley, not quite my neighborhood, but the adjoining one. As all my intimates know, I have to keep moving. Moving the car, Read more [...]

I recall it all with remarkable clarity and, let us note, cringing embarrassment. There is really no call for the latter, yet it is somehow part of the story. Which, incidentally, isn't even much of a story. All by way of turning off the reader, which I seem to be attempting. Where was I? On the 88 bus, of course. London Transport was my home in those days, even after I had lost my little job. And, yes, it was a job. Without it, I was slightly lost. Though, it must be noted, I had another. My Read more [...]

I do have a new neighborhood, but it's not entirely clear if I have neighbors. People trudge up and down the street on a regular basis. We smile here and there. But they are pretty thin on the ground, these people. At times, the neighborhood gives every impression of having been evacuated. And, of course, it is, every morning...refugees returning every evening. Silicon Valley is freeway-close, as they say, to this part of San Francisco. Corporate buses mass by the subway station each morning. Many Read more [...]

Parking is difficult, I told my friend David, by way of explanation. After all, I do own a car, and San Francisco does have streets, and even parking spaces, I swear. I swear by the Muni, unfortunately, so what's a guy to do? Few, very few people delight in the arrival of the 44 O'Shaughnessy bus, but I am among this minority. And here it comes, right up Bosworth Street, looking mighty and looking new. That's right, this sucker is brand spanking new, not to mention engaged in the burning of biodiesel, Read more [...]