THE MASTER SAID ...

The first thing you do upon returning home is go to the bathroom. After putting the pipe and tobaco pouch on the stack of unopened correspondence you haven't dealt with in months. Bills, bank statements, account statuses, energy usage stuff.
After that you go into the kitchen for some tea.


Not that I needed more. Although alcoholic drinks were served at all three establishments, due to medical reasons I had several caffeinated beverages instead.
I am an abstemious man, despite the weekly pub-crawl.
Which is very un-Dutch of me.

Of course I had a shot of strong coffee before I even left the house. Yeah man, I don't need alcohol or drugs, I'm just high as a kite on life in America, mom, the flag, and apple pie!
And regular doses of caffeine.
Plenty of it.


The reason why I don't often deal with my correspondence is that I have long ago mastered the telephone, and the possibilities of pressing one now. All questions are answered if you press correctly (1). It's an art form.

The weekly pub crawl is within sight of that handsome building in the painting above. It dates back to when the book seller and myself worked at the same bookstore. Him as regular staff, myself sporadically and on-call, whenever there were enough second-hand Asian language books that needed pricing. The Book Of Mormon in any language does not need pricing.
It's landfill material, plain and simple.

The karaoke place (last stop of the night) was pleasantly empty. Only three white people there, one of whom may have been American-born Chinese. Three English-language songs. Not too loud. One of the insufferable Star Wars flicks on one screen, two dignified gentlemen in late Ching Dynasty get-up on another. Food featured prominently. One of the gentlemen referenced Confucius. As scholarly chaps at the end of the Ching Dynasty might do.

A notorious local pot-head came in with fried chicken.
Probably his second dinner. Like a hobbit.


North Beach has changed somewhat over the years. Some of the sleaze joints no longer exist, several of the irritating mental defectives and drug addicts that thrived in the neighborhood are gone. It hasn't improved, it's just not the same as it was.

The more things change, the more they don't.



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