Mom always said that if you didn’t have anything particularly interesting to say, you were probably better off not saying anything at all…
Or something to that effect…
More soon…
Old man yells at cloud
Mom always said that if you didn’t have anything particularly interesting to say, you were probably better off not saying anything at all…
Or something to that effect…
More soon…
Now really, who WOULDN’T want to do his laundry at the Pineapple Laundrette?
I drove down to the city on Saturday, taking pictures and generally poking around. San Jose is nice, and it’s a handy reminder to Bay Area residents that we do in fact live in California. San Francisco has its own charms, but it’s really Californian only by virtue of geography…
San Jose, on the other hand, is more reminiscent of that cliché Southern California “dream” which draws so many people to the west coast. With its cute little single-family houses and neighborhood shopping centers from the 1950s, and with its freeways and low-rise orientation, and its palm trees and semi-trpocal vegetation, San Jose looks more like California is “supposed” to look: informal, sunny, modern, and open.
San Francisco looks stuffy, cold, damp, claustrophobic, and old. Residents are stacked on top of each other, many of them don’t own cars, and the freeways are more likely tobe demolished than repaired or expanded. There are dingy corner stores rather than big (or small) shopping centers, and any palm trees one finds look rather lost. It’s no wonder people are so surprised to find this very east coast city on the tip of a Penisula in California…
I pop out to my car to drive over to meet Dan and Eugene for dinner and realize that my battery’s dead. This couldn’t happen on a worse weekend, because (a) Mark‘s in Fresno, and (b) he drove this time rather than taking the train, so I can’t even use his car…
Fortunately, Dan has offered to jump me, so I won’t be stuck in San Francisco all weekend. That would be a fate worse than death…
Time for some barbecue…
Tomorrow morning I say farewell to my thyroid gland. It’s a simple procedure; I drink a glass of radioactive iodine and wait a few days (or months) for the results. I’m prepared, I guess, but I’m still a little sad to see it go…
I could say the same thing about Tony Randall too, now that I think about it…
It surprises no one that I’m no fan of Pat Buchanan. He’s about the closest thing to an anti-christ that an agnostic could envision. But I read this surprisingly lucid op-ed piece in the Chron today, and it’s actually worth a look…
BTW, I’ve decided to eat like a maniac for the next few weeks while my metabolism is still hyperactive. Food suggestions welcome. We went to Palomino last night, just because I had a coupon, and still managed to kill off about seventy bucks, so CHEAP food suggestions are especially welcome…
Did I mention that I reworked my pictures page, ending (I think) that brief flirtation with pop-ups?