Out Here In Oakland
I started this yesterday with a couple of paragraphs that just didn't work. Hack, hack, whack, whack and they still read like crap. I am in crap mode. It will pass. Part of writing is learning when to junk what began as a good idea, an interesting play on words or such, and start over. I am starting over.
Sometimes, on a weekend, my mind turns to mush and I'm tired, but not tired enough to take a nap and get some sleep. Up this morning at five, (I don't know, just "up", don't ask), started a load of wash before I got into the bath, threw it in the drier as I left to go shopping (before seven), shopping done with two loads of laundry finished by nine, driving to CompUSA to pick up needed CD storage and a box of file folders at Office Depot. Home by ten thinking now I'll do the things I've been threatening to do for weeks and suddenly I hit the wall. No brain land, the land of idle thoughts and less ambition, the land of put it off until Monday. Except for the Solano Stroll tomorrow, which I plan to photograph.
Sunday. Three hours at the Solano Stroll this morning up and down Solano Avenue shooting people
preparing for the parade and then shooting the parade itself. Solano Avenue is on the north side of the University in Berkeley, an odd mix of up scale trendy and somewhat funky. It gives me an odd hit, but there are two old built in the fifties (forties?) movie theaters, one at each end of the avenue, films advertised on the marquees that I'd probably like to see. I have mixed feelings about Solano Avenue, but I have mixed feelings about everything, none of which are of any moment. My legs and back, however, are telling me I'd better stop slacking off and walk to work every day next week and the week after. It is also telling me that I should do sit ups or something to strengthen my stomach and back muscles. I don't get tired as such, the legs and the wind hold up fine, but the back is aching after three hours of lugging around the camera bag. Eight rolls of film though, close to 300 pictures.
I got to the file folders and CD cases this afternoon. Yesterday's mush mind seems to have revived after a slow Saturday and a long night's sleep, waking at my normal hour. Read the paper and drank a cup of coffee down at the sidewalk cafe near Lake Merritt before returning to the apartment to pack the cameras and head out in the car for Solano Avenue. Arrive early, park at the foot of the hill and start walking. Come home three hours later, move a pile of papers off my desk and into their new file folders. Avoid writing this journal because that part of my brain is still not working. Do another load of laundry just for the hell of it. Eat a peach. Eat a plum. Pet Wuss, who looks better, but is still undoubtedly going to die on me pretty soon. I hope I'm wrong. Is there a cat Mayo Clinic? I'm sure there is, but not for the likes of a Wuss. Out here in Oakland.