DMV

A work day. The work of getting the day to be a day. And considerable work, it has been. That work ended, and the day's writing began, with a final phone call. This one to the De Young Museum of San Francisco. Would they please send me another membership card? I had already called the Museum of Modern Art, Contemporary Jewish Museum…and I had run out of restorative options. Nothing more to be done. After getting robbed in broad daylight of considerable cash (intended for my home helper's Read more [...]

This just in….

…almost inside my door, in fact. Yes, I was fumbling with the keypad on our door, thinking about nothing in particular. But being rather under the viral weather, vis-à-vis my cold, and even slightly jetlagged still…not to mention just plain old, I barely noticed when a hand reached in front of me. And grabbed my wallet. I reversed my wheelchair quickly enough to send my iPhone flying. But so did the kid, which is who it was. He had an accomplice down the street who suddenly appeared from a doorway. Read more [...]

Something Else

I have been trying to make this day happen… all day. Hard to say what happened, or didn't. But consider the slightly antique expression 'cool your jets.’ Consider that your jets are lagging. One jet lagging another jet, and five days after returning to North American terra firma. Why? How? Who cares? And of course, it's not just jet lag. It's cold lag. I don't get colds. Well, maybe once a year. And not surprisingly at the end of a long trip…one would get a cold. One's jets would cool. The Read more [...]

The Big Guns

When I bought this suit, it was the year 2000. Many things were different then, including my waistline. The difference between then and now is not so profound as uncomfortable. I can barely fit into this suit. Wearing the silly thing has a strangling effect about the lower thorax. Never mind. In this way, I tell myself, I shall achieve dietary moderation. Which seems to be working so far, three hours into today's discomfort. Surely I know what I'm doing. And what am I doing? Well, I'm off to the Read more [...]

Bean There

It's part of my stomping ground, Canyon Market. And damned if I wasn't stomping…or wheeling…through the place yesterday morning in search of a Saturday morning taster of frijoles when minor disaster struck. The place routinely offers customers samples on the small steel table near the exit. Of course, the table is small. Everything is small at Canyon Market, except my appetite. Because I can always conceive of stuff to eat, I can also conceive of stuff to buy. And on this particular date, the Read more [...]