Here in the civilized world it has been a rainy day. During a brief clement break in the grim weather I headed over to Chinatown for a spot of milk tea and a pastry, to be followed, of course, by a pipe-smoke and a stroll. The bus back over the hill was not particularly full, because it's President's Day.
What's remarkable is how many people on the bus were NOT wearing masks. Almost all of the Chinese folks were, naturally, and a few others including myself. Which is as strong an indication as any that Chinese Americans get their news from reading, whereas many Caucasians watch Fox News and remain blissfully and stupidly ill-informed.
As you would expect, I do not watch Fox. Life is too short.
And I don't need any tacky golden sneakers.
Like the ex-president, I am unathletic in the extreme.
But I walk better, and have better posture.
It's a very low bar.
Fine red flake in a black sandblast that looks very old college, Ross Alley and Waverly Place. Late afternoon, still light out. Few people. A sense of dampness, but a mellow zephyr rather than the full wind tunnel effect closer to the Financial District.
I note that the Northern bun and dumpling place does not look like they will open soon. A pity. The weather at this time of year is perfect for such things. There's no signage yet either.
It has been a splendid day. Peaceful and quiet, away from the vicious bekvechting weasels of Marin. Senile old Republicans are a strain on one's tolerance, and I alway feel somewhat worn out after a day at the saltmines.
When I got home, my apartment mate was dozing in her room, evidence of trashy reading on the floor near her bed, stuffed animals carefully watching over her. She, too, enjoys a day away from rabid animals.
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