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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


October 15, 2017


Sunday. Lights out early, to sleep early awakening but once or twice during the night, to then to get up at six and find out if the new newspaper delivery man was going to arrive late again after seven, as he had last Sunday. And indeed he did. Ten after seven, a five minutes earlier than he had last Sunday, but probably because he was more familiar with the route as he didn't have to get out of his car to retrieve the papers from his back seat this time.

And so you were pissed?

Not really. It turned out the waitress who opened the restaurant this morning was running late as well and I pulled up but five minutes after she'd arrived. Wait in the apartment or wait in the car? I'll take the apartment. Life goes on, which is good, no need to fret. He said.

Now, now.

Had the steak and eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast. One forty-eight on the scale this morning, maybe add some protein to the mix was the thought. One forty-eight is OK, but we don't need to go any lower. I'm making that up, but it seems right. The bones aren't poking through, but there aren't any bulges in the body either and so we're where we want to remain. Be. Stay.

You do go on.

I still wonder a bit why it's so easy to keep the weight now when it wasn't when I was young(er). There then to keep the world at a distance? Hide? Because of stress I wasn't aware of? Sloth?

Clear day, easy drive home. The wildfires, after reading this morning's stories, were hairier than I'd realized from the television reporting I'd been watching and so I read the reports with greater interest. There's too much stuff going on in the world, you need a written list to keep track of it: Rohingya exterminations in Myanmar-aka-Burma. A similar situation in Yemen. Still no water in Puerto Rico. The latest Trump tweet tantrum.

Later. And so another day of not much. The head has been pretty good, the sinus-upper palate behaving, but I haven't put it to good use in the sense of going outside (quite warm out there, well up into the seventies, without too much smoke in the air, though, the particulate readings in the safe range). Not particularly embarrassed about it, not doing anything, just stumbling along in the usual fashion.

Evening. Sunday and so watched the two episodes of Elementary that start at five. Why do I still watch them? At least with the first one I'd totally forgotten how it ended. The second started with a scene that reminded me of who done it, but it doesn't seem to have slowed me down much as I sat and played along with a little guitar right through the both of them.

They were followed by 60 Minutes, a program I don't usually watch, but I caught the beginning, an interview with a whistleblower describing how the pharmaceutical industry essentially bought off Congress to stop the DEA from going after opioid diversions, illegal sales of Oxycontin and other morphine derivatives, that they were flooding throughout the country, outlining the who, what and why in detail and making me upset these people weren't in jail. What's it going to take before people rise up and put a stop to this crap? And what other news outlets will pick up on this story?

The photo up top was taken at the Defend DACA demonstration last month at the Oakland City Hall with Nikon D5 mounted with a 70-200mm f 2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.