If there is a problem living in San Francisco at this moment in American history, it’s that so much good, cooperative good, is on display…that the noises coming out of Washington make no sense. So little, that one is inclined to ignore them. Which, of course, one does at one’s peril. Nonetheless, day-to-day life is at least confusing.

Leaving the house in the morning, I plunge into the commons. Yes, my neighborhood is part of this, yet it is an elite part. No, the real commonality begins with public transport. That public is varied, highly varied. Not only do we adjust and make room for each other in our efforts to speed toward the center of town, we generally do so quietly.

‘Hold your nose,’ a mother says to her daughter as we ascend in the elevator at the Powell station. Yes, someone has peed on the floor. I am not sure what the answer is. More public toilets does come to mind. But BART’s answer is simple. New floors for every lift. Whatever. I am tiring of the topic. Though I must point out that Montgomery station, the next down the line, has had its elevators out of action for something approaching two weeks in the last couple of months. Floor replacement is one of the explanations. I give up.

Good thing that so many young people in the region do not. Just last night Jane and I attended a meeting to discuss food waste and what can be done. Turns out this is not a small problem. Americans chuck out something like 40% of what they buy in supermarkets. The stuff gets old. People decide they don’t want it. Silly reasons like that. All of which wastes…well, everything. Agricultural land. Water. Energy. And, of course, money.

This is one of those problems that can be dealt with at either end. Prevention is good. So is dealing with the waste. We spent about 90 minutes learning about both processes. Most impressive was the audience. A room full, 50 or maybe 100 people, and most of them in their 20s and 30s. A generation that is generally doing much more poorly than mine economically. And yet here they are, trying to make things better. And not trying to make a buck.

As I say, San Francisco is a fine place. Making things work is a fine idea. Making it through these times is an even better one.