A CORPSE BY THE SIDE OF THE FREEWAY

Cruising into the internet site of the local news rag, two articles immediately caught my eye as exemplifying why the Bay Area may no longer be my kind of place. No, I didn't bother reading the articles. Same as the piece about the best new yoga mat which could change my life.

1. "The best hidden gems and secret spots in San Francisco"
2. "The best 'hippie towns' in the Bay Area and Northern California"

There was also something about some guy's extra-special work-out routine.
It's stupendous


Folks, I'll let you in on a secret: my work-out routine is talking walks in my own meighborhood, wearing normal clothes, smoking my pipe. It seems to be working. No yoga mat required. My apartment mate remarked about how "scrawny" I am, need to fatten me up. Of course she has a demented view of weight issues anyway, given that she thinks she's too fat (at the low end of the recommended weight for her height and build). She also says my clothes are too baggy. Men like baggy. Nothing better than plenty of wiggle room. Like Ignatius O'Reilly in Confederacy of Dunces, there are pockets of stale air. Keeps the warmth in.

The problem with an article listing "hidden gems" and "secret spots" is that from the moment they hit the publish button on that, the cat was out of the bag. Now those places will be swamped with day trippers and idiots without masks.

And the best 'hippie towns'? Good lord, those are precisely the places to avoid. Entitled yutzes being unique and artistic individuals with good auras. How about the best dreary towns instead? Best biker-gang outlaw towns? Best hobo jungles?

The best news in the rag was about a woman who brought her therapy rabbit to a ballgame.

Every body loves bunnies.



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