SUCH SANCTITY!

Bus-stop Uncle and Auntie were at the usual spot waiting for their transport over the hill to Chinatown when I stepped out for the first pipe of the morning, having filled a bowl with 4th. Gen Black Dot Bullseye before I left yesterday. Because we had scheduled an extra day off, New Teeth Man will be taking my place. I wish the boys good luck with him. And as I had had no chance to warn the neurosurgeon, I hope he doesn't come early, or he'll be waiting ten or fifteen minutes on the lawn to get in.

Unlike myself, New Teeth Man does not arrive any earlier than he's supposed to be there.

Anyway. Off. And I mentally calculated how many times I've crossed the bridge. While also remembering that Blue Velvet Backpack Dude has only been doing it for two years.

About five thousand times. More or less.
Never once walking.


There are people who make it a habit to jog across a few mornings every week, allegedly for their health. Which to me is almost unimaginable. It takes all kinds.

Actually, it does not. But you already know that. And many people are a little too irritating to take in any case. Especially as one gets older and the types have become recognized and predictable. "Oh lord, there we go again", one will say to oneself, as another dense passle of Marin bicyclists comes into view, filling the street ahead and devouring everything before them. Old ladies shriek in terror. Children whimper. Dogs yelp.

Unbothered, the runty-arsed athletes saving the planet on their Puritan bean mulch diets and Spartan regimens soldier on, skankgams pumping rythmically. Tofu! Wheatgrass! Protein powder! Salvation awaits.

In their minds they hear adulatory chanting. Worshipful crowds.

The roadway trembles before their onslaught.

Kids want to be like them.


So yeah, today ought to be quite enjoyable.
Not heading to Marin for several more days.



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