Election Day in San Francisco
One of the things I most love about meeting people is hearing about all the niches I unconsciously knew existed but had never thought about before. That decorating the interiors of boats is… Continue reading
Tag Archive: San Francisco
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I’m glad the alt right is coming to San Francisco
The white supremacist, with his full grown body, stunted intellect, and all the moral development of pond algae thinks that he is oppressed. He feels his heritage, status, and very understanding of the… Continue reading
I wish I had your life
“I wish I had your life.” I get that a lot. “Must be tough!” they say with a smile. And I can’t disagree. I have it incredibly good. Incomprehensibly good. Sometimes I can… Continue reading
Rocky Horror Acceptance Show
If I don’t clean all this uncooked rice out of my pockets before I do my laundry, will I have clean clothes and a snack when the washer’s done? And rice krispies when… Continue reading
Empathy
I think about it every time I almost get run over by a car. “If that driver knew what it was like to be a cyclist, they’d be more aware of us.” And… Continue reading
A visitor in my land, for a moment
The first announcement was so bland and polite. “The eastbound train on platform two is going out of service. Please do not board this train. It will be departing momentarily.” The crowd of… Continue reading
Loving the forests of my homeland, Mt Tamalpais
Home sweet home. Cool shade, soft air, and damp earth, beside flowing water, under patient boughs, and between sagacious trunks. Jungles are great, but I never appreciated the particulars of my homeland forests… 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
I had to come home to remember how to feel out of place.
I’m at home in the souk of El Jadida, talking to bouncers in Riga, and arriving in Yangon without a clue. I was comfortable on the streets of a city 99% said is… Continue reading
