Old And Soft
Saturday. To bed early last night, up a good hour or so after the alarm, getting up a little slowly. Got the sleep, maybe the reduced sake consumption earlier in the evening had an effect. Still, up and out the door and back from breakfast feeling somewhat like a human being.
I'd flaked out on the Art Murmur yesterday, we'll see about the Cinco de Mayo festival over in San Francisco's Dolores Park. I attended last year, basically a BART ride and then a few blocks walk, so we'll see. I do need the pictures. (I always need the pictures.)
Later. For all my talk about a good night's sleep, feeling a little tired when I went to bed but otherwise OK, I took a good solid well over an hour's nap this morning after breakfast before heading out for the farmers market just down the street. The day is warm and sunny, there were many people along the lake, forming up around the white columns and shopping in the market itself, but walking over was a long drawn out let the various parts of the body come up to speed progression, most of me up and running by the time I'd eaten and started walking back. From the usual place.
So I've not gone over to San Francisco to photograph the Cinco de Mayo festival in Dolores Park, not sure why, other than I'm feeling a bit (as mentioned) gummed up. Still, there's much of an afternoon still ahead. No thought to go to San Francisco, but there is all of Oakland out there for another walk. Maybe a trip along Telegraph where they held the Art Murmur last night. One of the news accounts mentioned the interestingly painted mail boxes, one of which I realize I'd recently photographed on my way to the hospital lab.
Anyway, other interesting events coming up this month, so we'll blow off Cinco in the park. And maybe, just maybe, blow off any sake the night before the next one of these comes up.
Later still. The afternoon stumbles along. A walk, although nothing as ambitious as a walk over to Telegraph, but a walk down along the lake again passing a small group gathering in support of the victims of Williams Syndrome. No, I didn't know what is was either, but I looked it up on the web later and discovered it was a genetic birth defect that leads to less than pleasant results.
A glass of lemonade at the usual place (they've starting thinking I'm a little crazy coming by more than once or now twice in a day) to sit for a while and then walk back through the farmers market area, the last of the tents and such being loaded into trucks. Farther on people dancing to drums on the open grass near the library and two different samba groups dancing where the Williams people had been set up. Oh, and a bride and a groom with their photographer. Brides and grooms like the white columns with the lake in the background for their pictures. I've noticed.
Evening. The six o'clock Scandinavian police procedural for Saturdays is a German police procedural called Beck. A certain thread of what I'm terming German jocularity runs throughout. My thought, at least, what do I know about German society other than that first year of high school German I took? I've been assigning cultural-societal labels to these various programs - Swedish, German, Italian, Korean, Japanese - and I suspect ninety-nine percent of my perceptions are bullshit. Still, it's fun. I watched it, of course, all that brusque German jocularity seems to keep my (a bit disturbed) interest.
I also finished out a movie (Aftershock) I'd started some days ago, a Chinese movie (made on the mainland in 2010) that had one or two scenes that got to me. This one was about a great earthquake that occurred in China in 1976, soon on a scene where a mother has to decide which of her two children must die for the other to live. The director of this thing knew how to make that seem more than real and I was unable to go back to it for three or four days after watching it. I'm getting old and soft. And maybe a little more human.