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A coffee bar on Shattuck Avenue in Berkeley.
October 11th, 1999

And Stinky Cheese!
I took my own advice and wrote the beginnings of a short piece Saturday instead of writing a journal entry. Reads all right, but where exactly am I going to take it? As fiction, of course, it can go anywhere it likes, the chancier the ground and the further the reach, the better. Except I don't think I'd know chancy ground anymore if it grabbed my ass and sucked me under. We shall see. It won't be ready for another couple of weeks and it may have a bad accident with a delete button before it's finished. Life is a chancy proposition.

Nice October day in Oakland. Went to the Saigon Deli for lunch and sat looking out over the Another OAT at lunch. park in front of City Hall, drinking one of those iced coffee's with condensed milk that makes me think of civilized living and sidewalk cafés in a land where the French and the Chinese combined forces to create the cuisine. Never been to Saigon, don't want to see Saigon in the future although my company has offices in Saigon, now Ho Chi Minh City. We also have offices in London. Rather go to London, cuisine be damned. Drink their beer. Odd image, Saigon paired with Deli. Don't usually think about Vietnam, it was the focus of a different time and reality, but I do have an old fantasy of a fictional land without a war where people stop in the early afternoon to sit and visit at tables set out on the sidewalk drinking the ever so sweet coffee as they talk and watch the passing populace, much as we watched the people in the park in front of the Oakland City Hall today.

I was reading Gracie's Journal today in which she describes her ongoing struggle with hacker goats. I am not altogether familiar with hacker goats, although I wish her well. Perhaps I could suggest hacker goat to the chef at the Saigon Deli, sautéd with a little sweet and sour sauce, served with rice. And stinky cheese! (OK, OK.)

Tomorrow I visit the doctor to get the results of the sleep test I took last month. I got a different set of results from my health care provider on Saturday. Seems they won't cover the test and I, as of this moment, am on the hook for $1,800. I'm not sure how this will be handled. I have the uneasy feeling it will be handled by my paying the bill, albeit slowly, as in bleeding. The doctor said nothing about checking with the insurance people to see if they would cover it and it never occurred to me to ask. "Go get a sleep test, it's the last part of the procedure." I took the sleep test. I had a sleep test before the operation, the results of which justified the operation in the first place, my health care provider paying. Life at the end of a millenium.


 
The banner photograph was taken in a coffee bar near the BART station on Shattuck Avenue in Berkeley. I was killing some time before I saw Guinevere last Sunday and I wanted to see how the exposure would turn out shooting black and white in available light indoors. Not a particularly arresting scene, but I'm going to shoot more of them. I get it right one of these days. An OAT is a member of the Oakland Area Technical Support Group. This one is a Macintosh freak. Naughty, naughty.

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