THE ODD SOUNDS

The last walk around the neighborhood last night was cleaner and quieter than the first one this morning. As you would expect; overnight the flotsam has settled, there are slumbering figures in doorways here and there. Not all of them alcoholics who slept where they fell.
This isn't North Beach. Some of them had no booze at all last night.

Years ago when solitary people randomly talked on the street they could be very well taken for labile types in tune with their inner daemons. Then for a while there was a greater chance that they were on cell phones and reception was better outside. Nowadays, if it isn't someone hooking up at Starbucks or Peets, it's probably a nutcase. Best avoid.

The secret to not being bothered on the street in this city is probably talking to yourself, and answering back. People will gladly step aside.

I don't really miss the old days of creative types hepped on meth stumbling home before dawn through the fog of North Beach. But in a way I do.
It seemed a more innocent age.
More promising.



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