Sunday. When I got up this morning and went to breakfast I wondered why I'd drunk all that sake last night, but then I've been wondering that on many a Sunday morning this year. Of course today I was going to shoot the Cherry Blossom Festival parade in San Francisco and one does not like to have a hangover when one is lugging cameras around under the sun, but that goes without saying. Was I trying to tell myself something, hammering this old head to get my attention? I was remembering my performance at the Chinese New Year parade two months ago where I took three pictures and crapped out. I went a full three hours this morning, camera(s) in hand, and, although I was pretty tired when I was done, I was thinking I was one hell of a fellow and I should be doing this more often.
So give yourself a gold star, sweetheart.
It rained last night and I was thinking, three sheets to the wind, the parade today might be an adventure. This morning the sun was shining and the made in Oregon sake I consumed last night was touching me ever so lightly to remind me I was an idiot but otherwise leaving me be. Spring appears to be here and I'm up for good things to happen. I believe they file this under hopeless optimism, but so what?