TAKE A WALK

Two young fellows of Indian or Pakistani heritage got on the bus at the same time as myself. They conversed animatedly using words that indicated education and a high level of mental activity, and I listened in with interest. When they got off, both of them thanked the busdriver nicely and wished him a a good night. Splendid chaps. Refreshing.

Especially when contrasted with the slovenly white slobs sitting nearby. Who had spent their money on piercings but not on improving themselves. Which seems to be the standard for caucasians in these times. You have money for tattoos, metal studs, and marijuana, but not a penny for decent jeans, surgical masks, or charmschool? Your parents must be proud of you.

Oh wait, they don't wear masks either.
They're from Florida.
Freezums!


There is no way I would visit the rest of the United States; it's filled with people from Florida. Sadly, that doesn't mean they don't visit San Francisco. Especially this week.
Dream Force is in town.


The chachanteng where I had lunch does not cater to that type. What I ate was typical Hong Kong, washed down with milk tea. English was not the operational language because all of us there were regulars and did not need it. Dutch is one of my other languages, but I didn't hear that either. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

The weekly pubcrawl was scuppered somewhat by a crowd at one place and white women singing karaoke at another -- they sounded too sober to want to leave anytime soon, it would probably take three to six more drinks each before they left in search of pizza -- so we went to the back-up place, where it was reasonably calm, and very civilized.

While I was waiting for the bookseller a disturbed individual had come around the corner screaming obscenities. He headed off down the block after cussing out the instateller machine, and was still audible for a bit. He had an unimaginative vocabulary.
We really must educate our unbalanced fellow Americans better.

It did not interfere with my enjoyment of my pipe.
Which induces an almost zen-like calm.

The screamer may have headed to the waterfront, maybe to vocalize some more.
I wish him luck. He lost his head in San Francisco.
Possibly just visiting.




The bookseller has finished reading Franz Hessel's seminal work Spazieren in Berlin, and does not quite know what to say about that. And it made a strong impression on him. I would recommend exploring Der Kramladen des Glücks, which has inspiring things to say about the bachelor lifestyle in a worldly urban environment, such as he himself is engaged upon.
Art. Literature. Culture. Junk. Und so etwas.




==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================