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International recognition!

   
Outside an Oakland hardware store.
February 21st, 2000

Mind At Rest
In the infinite scheme of things, my company has decided that Presidents' Day is not a company holiday and although we have three so called "floating holidays" we can take whenever we want, I found myself walking into work this morning through deserted streets thinking maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Only three of the eight or so restaurants in the City Center were open for business with short lines and plenty of seats. I figured what the hell and stopped to have some eggs, toast and a cup of something resembling coffee. Cloudy, the chance of rain, but a dry walk into work through a sleeping town. My head felt like cotton. Still, what the hell, it was Monday, my head always feels like cotton on a Monday, it's just, well, it might have been nicer to have had these last three days off.

I remember reading in the paper yesterday about a demonstration that was to be held today outside City Hall, something about a proposition on the ballot that effectively treats young criminals, you know, fourteen, fifteen years old, and tries them as adults. Basically, send the kid criminals into the slammer with the adult criminals and skip any of this messy reform business. This is not a "tough love" policy, but a "lock 'em up in the slammer and throw away the key" policy more in keeping with current community attitudes.

Anyway, I thought maybe I'd wander over and shoot some photographs of it today if I could catch it and sure enough, there they were marching down the street in front of our building and there I was up there in the office having forgotten about this planned demonstration altogether, having forgotten reading about it, having forgotten (until I heard it on the news this evening) what it was even about. Head like cotton, brain like a basket without a bottom, memory lost somewhere when it rolled out through the hole. This doesn't make a lot of sense, does it, but it matches my day. I'm more hopeful about tomorrow.

I'm taking Wuss to the vet for another checkup in the morning and they'll probably schedule a sonogram. He's been pretty good, but he's had a couple of lapses, one recently, where he peed and puddled his way from the desk to the bar stool and then up onto the kitchen counter, all the while making upset cat noises. My suspicion is cats don't take well to isolation in a small apartment, well fed or not, petted and pampered evenings and weekends or not, flea free and rug rat warm or not, vet prescribed cat food almost edible or not and maybe that puts them out of sorts and causes them to pee when they're excited because their owner (lord, master, cat herder) has just come home and they think there's a chance he's going, just this one time, to feed them something decent for dinner even though this has not happened now for months and months and months. So we'll get him a sonogram and some pills and maybe a nice package of kitty diapers, not so much for his benefit, but for mine, as it will put my mind at rest. Meow.


 
Cute dog photograph taken last summer outside of a hardware store, the bunch of birds sitting on a power line waiting for summer was taken in Berkeley. The birds need more work or tossing in the trash. But it's late, so we'll go with it. The Chinese New Year Parade black and white contact sheets should be back tomorrow, the color the day following.

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