Category Archive: Not traveling

Oakland protests, then riots, after Ferguson decision

There are helicopters in the sky of Oakland tonight. I have a Thanksgiving blog typed up, ready to go. But there are helicopters above me, still.   The rumble of three overhead, hours… Continue reading

It’s all good, my friends

I got a little down about this election. It struck me as depressing that people voted for the party of economic exploitation, the billionaire 1% who feed on the blood of the workers… Continue reading

Trick or treat? Or not.

Granted, I have no children. This places me solidly in the spectator box when it comes to child-rearing, but I noticed a pattern when asking friends if they would be giving out candy… Continue reading

How long until that grows out?

I got The Haircut again.   In Nicaragua, Morocco, and Myanmar I liked it, described it as “Much lighter, now I won’t sweat so much” and “my tiny shampoo bottle will last longer.”… Continue reading

Mercurial madness, retrograde riots.

Congratulations, my friends. We survived another one. In that last post, I said something about the sun waiting in line for its macchiato on Mercury. Luckily for all of us, I was just… Continue reading

Why bother blogging?

I’m supposed to be writing a blog right now. Instead, I’m pretending to type while observing the hunched man across the communal table, who looks like Lewis Black fallen on hard times. His… Continue reading

Folsom Street Fair; or, leashes, lashes, and laughter

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, all things considered. Soft, warm air that eased around, but that fell far short of windy; and no rain, but solid overcast. Those clouds in particular were… Continue reading

My San Francisco Giants

I couldn’t remember the last time I went to a Giants game, but we definitely had a different president. That ain’t good, for a kid raised on Will Clark, Robbie Thompson, and (my… Continue reading

A tangible reason to care about the future. In San Diego.

San Diego is paisley from above. Curls and loops and whorls of housing developments; conceived at desks, proposed in meetings, and built by contract. All those lives, churning away down there, unknowable, each… Continue reading

What men really want.

I hope I’m not going to disappoint you.   Were you expecting (or fearing) a tale of knuckle-dragging meatheads? Jocks, frat-boys, and assorted male stereotypes who think their egos, biceps, and testicles form… Continue reading