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They have better beds on the A ward.

How Berkeley Can You Be? parade

October 29th, 2000

Care About Their Cats
The rain they were predicting didn't arrive, at least in my part of the city, so naturally I spent most of the day inside puttering around the apartment and listening to the radio. My one foray into the wilderness of Telegraph Avenue resulted in my foolishly attempting to photograph a line of mannequin heads displaying hats on one of the street seller tables and having the woman run up after me on the street to suggest I was an ugly racist asshole at the top of her lungs for attempting the picture without her permission.

Technically, you can shoot pictures of anyone or anything on a public street, but I did attempt to shoot Woman in confrontation (added later) the picture without asking, which I would normally have done, just not thinking very clearly, I guess, when I did it (I'm a sucker for mannequin heads), so I'm not going to fault the woman who used it as an excuse to go ballistic. This stuff happens, it doesn't happen often, but it can happen at any time under most any of circumstances. The woman got her rocks off at the top of her lungs and I stood there and listened, watching her eyes. Was this a performance? Was she just angry? Or was she flipped to the point of being dangerous? I decided angry, used to rationalize a top of the lungs performance.

Sometimes you just stand and take your medicine when you're on another person's turf. This has happened before, of course, although this is the first time taking pictures has made me a racist. I have no complaints, since there can be other, more problematic reactions, and I'd just as soon keep my photography a non contact experience. So I got a little real world lesson today and I've decided to adjust my approach to Telegraph Avenue street artists.

Hmmm, let's see, a Wuss update. The Wuss is reliably eating about two Friskies sized cans of Hills c/d - How Berkeley Can You Be? parade s cat food every day, another three cases of which I purchased Saturday at the vet's, and seems to be gaining weight, which is good. I think. He is still has trouble holding his water and has, on two recent and separate occasions, peed on his lord and master while pretending to sleep on his lord and master's lap, as his lord and master was tippity tap typing along at his computer. His lord and master views this as one of life's lessons, much like the woman who got in his face this afternoon. This may be a pain in the, er, lap, but it amounts to small potatoes in the real world. I don't know, bottom line, I think he's better. But who knows? Maybe that's just a nice comfortable bottom line that doesn't require that I go out looking for SUPERVET, who knows all and does even more for those who really care about their cats.

We're creeping up on Halloween so I guess the photographs are self explanatory, both taken at the How Berkeley Can You Be? parade last month. The quotation is from Senor by Bob Dylan.