At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Monday, March 11, 2013


My apartment mate has been sneezing up a storm. The reason being that the nearby Acacia trees are spewing pollen all over the neighborhood. The smell is lovely, rather like anise, but with a faint hint of resin and tannins, even slightly minty. Some people are allergic.
I fully sympathize. All last night I kept hollering "gesundheit".
Our neighbors were probably wandering what the heck was going on, what with explosions from her room, German exclamations from mine.

But that reminds me that there are some issues in this lovely city that remain near-constant irritants. Undoubtedly you expect me to list them.
So I will.


Boys, if a woman is standing and you are sitting down, get up. Even if you are a creaky thirty-year old and she is ten. Gentlemen offer ladies their seat, and INSIST that she take it. That's just the way it is. This tin can ain't moving until every Sheila is seated.
Also please do not stand in front of the back door leaning apathetically against the metal pole so that you can text while ignoring everyone who needs to pass. Those messages from your friends, fellow alcoholics, or business associates, will not go bad if you do not attend to them for ten minutes. And that goes for women standing there doing the same.
Get out of the doorway, and move to the back of the bus.
I will push you if I have to.


It does not matter what time I head over to the cablecar stop after nine in the evening, the result is always the same. The people operating it have decided that they're bored, and have started the beast up early. From exactly half a block away I'll see the conveyance that I intended to catch rumbling past without a single passenger. Because, like me, every one else missed it too, having presumed that it would leave California and Market Street at exactly nine thirty or ten o'clock. Or exactly five minutes early. Or last night, exactly thirteen minutes early. Muni employees start dreaming of coffee, bourbon, or video games when it's dark. They cannot fathom that anyone might rely on them.
At this point, I cannot fathom why I do so either.


No it isn't. Adults should not own accoutrements with Hello Kitty images. Girls, you are grown up now, and please act accordingly. Your second childhood does not have to be a matter for public consumption. If you need pointers on how to dress, I am available. I'll help you get slacks and skirts that fit (in other words, not skin-tight show-it-all sausage casings), sensible shoes -- ones that look good but also allow you to walk uphill -- a lovely blouse and cardigan combination (modest yet stylish, but above all, warm), and a coat that is both elegant and practical. As well as a classic handbag or valise, with enough heft that you can use it to clobber someone. For the first time in your life you might be treated as a real person.
You'll grow to like it. Trust me.
It's liberating.


Parents, do you see that little Chinese tyke over there? Well-behaved, isn't she? Quiet, too. Now try to imagine your own no-neck monsters like that. Do you at last finally understand why everyone thinks you are raising future mass-murderers and potential Real Housewives?
Children are full of energy, I grasp that. But children can be taught to be considerate of other people. And not scream angrily in public, or throw tantrums and heavy objects. Most of them will easily learn this.
If yours cannot I feel sad for you, and I move that both you and those defective mutant trolls get sent to a desert island.
Honestly, I do not find your kids charming at all.


Beancurd is NOT a substitute for animal protein. It is what it is. Please stop offering it in lieu of the bacon, ground pork, and juicy roast chicken that SHOULD be in that dish.
In fact, if you are white, please stop cooking beancurd.
It tastes lousy when you do.


Berkeley used to be a nice place to visit, Fremont had farms once, Palo Alto was a sleepy college town somewhere else, and San Jose was unimportant. Now it's all filled with those people.


If that place is so great, why aren't you there?
Oh, I forgot; cockroaches & bad weather.
So maybe it wasn't so great after all?

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Newer›  ‹Older