Don't You Think?
Saturday. I didn't get it together to go over to San Francisco to photograph the company ladies' rowing team races early this morning, but I did get my ass out the door and onto a couple of busses to check out the Berkeley World Music Weekend on Telegraph near University in Berkeley later in the afternoon. I caught the first bus to downtown Oakland just fine, but then the Berkeley bus was thirty minutes late leaving me standing, wondering if it might not be better to return to the apartment (it was overcast, after all, and the cameras were not getting any lighter) but I was able to hold on until the bus arrived. Life is mostly about waiting for the bus to arrive.
The Festival, as such, was basically Telegraph Avenue with more than the usual number of people crowding the sidewalks and the various restaurants, take-out pizza by the slice walk-ups, non-Starbucks coffee shops and noodle parlors and now, for the Festival, a small music group scattered here and there on some of the corners, each with its own audience of twenty or thirty people. I admit they were good, at least the few I stood and listened to while looking for a picture, a lot better than you'd expect on a Saturday afternoon, I thought, festival or not. I walked up the street, I walked down the street, I got on another bus and went home. Maybe I'm stale after all these years. Maybe I've been to Telegraph Avenue too many times over too many years and either it hasn't changed or I haven't changed or we've both changed way too much to make a couple.
Tired when I got home. Crawled into bed to listen to the radio and leaf through one or two yet to be finished books: The Savage Detective is getting opaque after those first hundred pages I earlier said that I liked, and I'm stuck not that far into Natusuo Kinino's Out, but I'll get going again. And I finished converting another three Carnaval pages this morning. Pretty hot for a Saturday, don't you think?