Post UK

I am sitting in Bello Coffee down the hill on what can only be described as day four of post-UK and realizing what is probably obvious to everyone else – that I am the oldest person in the café. Well, looks are deceiving, so it is possible, barely possible, that the "old lady" who recently vacated the table by mine has a year or two on me. Same for the "old guy" slouched in the chair against the wall. But I have my doubts. Somehow this day I reign as the oldest. And precisely what this means Read more [...]

Glacial Pace

I had a vision just a few days ago, call it a sort of dream. I was dead and witnessing the rapid disposal of my personal effects. Clothes would go here, other bits and pieces there. Jane would be bustling about with this, and it would all take a remarkably short time. My response as all this occurred was one of great annoyance. How quickly and simply we exit this mortal coil. Of course, I have been through this experience from the opposite end. Marlou's stuff had to be dealt with. And oddly I can't Read more [...]


Anyone who is anyone knows this is the solstice, that point in the year when things start going downhill. In other words things, whatever they are, were more or less on the ascendant until now. And these days, in these United States, the question of course involves responsibility. Who fucked things up? The year was going quite nicely, thank you very much, until someone screwed us royally. Who that someone is and what we are going to do about it remains to be seen. Death is not too good for them, Read more [...]

Give me Shelter

It's a regular weekly gig, my Wednesday volunteer stint at a San Francisco homeless shelter. And after months of this, somehow I am ready to throw in the towel. What I actually do as a volunteer is minimal, e.g., passing out toothbrushes and disposable razors. What I gain is a close-up perspective on life in this town. Simply put, there are lots of poor people around. And even more simple – I am glad to not be one of them. As for turning up at the shelter and dispensing bits and pieces, someone Read more [...]

Track 33

Call it the digital revolution. Call it the advent of labor-saving technology. Call it quits, however, if you are 72 years old and electronic devices have you at the end of your so-called wits. Britons are often heard to lament that this or that will "drive me round the twist." In this our digital era, I fear that something will "twist me round the drive." The disk drive, of course. Which is itself an outdated term. There haven't been discs around for a long time. And, no, up-to-date people do Read more [...]


"Cup" is the unimposing name of the café down the street, the one run by the Palestinian Sam. It was there this morning, all of us patrons baking in the hitherto extraordinary San Francisco heat, that something happened to my wheelchair. The electronic screen that normally displays such interesting details as speed and battery charge, began flashing its red thunderbolt. Warning. Something terribly wrong. Oy fucking vey. Thing is, this was a sort of nightmare come true. I bop about this town, Read more [...]