CHARMING!

Late in the morning there was noise from the garden next door. Because this apartment is at the back of the building, I could hear it clearly. Two children were digging a hole there, under the direction of their grandfather. Children love digging holes. Good. Employ them for that.
Happy childish voices.

Later, at the chachanteng where I went for lunch, a kid at the next table fondly clutched his stuffed capybaras. One of which had a duck mounted on its back. I had not seen stuffed capybaras before. Basically big blobs of fur.

While on the bus, at one of the stops, an elderly Caucasian gentleman getting off loudly told a woman to move her fat ass. Now personally I'm wondering what his hurry was, given that at his age he was undoubtedly retired and therefore not late for work -- and if he actually had any pressing business on Leavenworth Street perhaps he should have gotten into gear much earlier himself -- and, if his bowels bothered him perhaps he shouldn't have left the house before taking precautions.

I snidely remarked "charming" as he passed.
I hope he gets an infarction.
Not a gentleman.

Not charming either. In all of eighty years he hasn't improved. He has failed at life.
Eighty years more or less. Could be considerably older.
A real piece of work.

Lunch (焗葡國雞飯) with milk tea (港式奶茶) followed by a smoke (煙斗), then shopping for groceries on Stockton and at the big provisioners (大利) where they have curry pastes and dry noodles, in addition to lots of other stuff. Teatime at a bakery, and another smoke.

While on Waverly I spent some time watching the police deal with a vagrant who had tried to set himself on fire. A man who was clearly at the end of his tether. There was desperation in his voice, as well as defiance and an attempt to maintain a certain pride and personal integrity. They were very patient with him, and pretended not to understand the absolutely horrible language he hurled at them. Some of those things were earblistering. After half an hour the ambulance showed up, they gently inveigled him into quieting down and getting on the brancard. A medical check-up, psych ward observation, some warm food, and quiet time are in order, plus, one hopes, getting him into the system so that A) he's not living on the street, and B) sees other options than setting himself on fire.

His Cantonese was clear, distinct, and eloquent.
Of course I had to listen in.
Educational!

If this were a Republican city they would have simply clubbed him into submission, cuffed him, and thrown him in the drunk tank. The paperwork would have shown some crime, no doubt, and no one would have even uttered a peep about it. You know that's true.
The red states have a rotten record in that regard.

Three cops, two emergency medicals, one down and outer.
One full pipe. Two observers. Nearly an hour.


After coming home I gave my downstairs neighbor some mangoes.
Hence the picture above.



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