To appreciate my current life and times, you have to drop by around 4 AM. Particularly on a night when Jane is out of town. That's when I am possessed by the notion that I can't get out of bed. Note that this is not neuromuscularly groundless. Things are not what they were. My aging body may be losing what the fitness buffs term 'core strength’. Not to mention flexibility. From the consumer's point of view, it is a little hard to believe. I am currently writing about Amtrak trips I took around Read more [...]

We left the lake on the Canadian border about nine in the morning. I hadn't exactly been sleeping well at the conference, and in this moment I was hardly well rested. But all these observations feel like excuses. Tired or alert, I hadn't a clue what I was seeing, only a feel. And the feel was wondrous…as the highway suddenly flew out into space, metal girders and pavement airborne. And below a river wider than any in California, a massive thing barely contained in an immense canyon. Flowing and Read more [...]

Things are back to what they were on my San Francisco street. The fog has blown in and never retreated. The day dawns gray. It departs on the same note. All is as it was. Nonsense. For me, the early September arrival of unprecedented heat, breaking all records, has had a permanently disquieting, disorienting effect. This city's proximity to the Humboldt Current, along with a few other geophysical factors, should make it immune to temperatures of 106°F/42°C. This shouldn't be happening. This Read more [...]

Oscar Wilde's famous quote about how 'life imitates art’ may sound ironic, even flippant, but it's really just a simple down-to-earth truth. We sense the spirit of things before we see them. Or when we see them, the spirit predominates. That's why the cold light of excessive florescence illuminates only part of what's happening in the Walgreens at Mission and Cesar Chavez Streets. I am trying to buy some fearful things…that is it to say, small objects driven of excessive fear…when there is Read more [...]

Although I frequently kvetch about fears of growing older…it is worthwhile considering the upside. Stick around long enough, and you'll see a thing or two. I essentially missed the Summer of Love because in 1967 I was enjoying the summer of Point Reyes. Student friends from Berkeley drove me there several times. I didn't have a car, after all. The semi-wild peninsula just northwest San Francisco is virtually within sight of the Golden Gate…yet it probably harbors a few mountain lions. Possibly Read more [...]