“The lion killed the tiger. Which one it is dead?” He was standing uncomfortably close to me while I finished one box of cereal and opened a new one. “We leave at 8:30 when Mom, Kathy takes me.” “Right. But my watch says its 8:15, so I still have time for breakfast.” “8:15 is what my watch says, too.” A pause. “Will you come in with me?” “No. I’ll drop you off at church, and then I’ll be back to pick you up at noon.” I’m fishing for a spoon out of the dish drainer because he’s leaning on the …
“Good heavens! Is that your voter pamphlet?!?” It’s 4:00 on a Saturday afternoon. I’ve been reading voter pamphlets and sample ballots since before 10:00. And I’m not done yet. Nearly 30 propositions is way more than I want to handle in one sitting. I like the principles that went into making America a democracy. Governments, I believe, are supposed to work for the people, and I like the idea that the citizens of a community have opportunities to express how they want government to work. But frankly, this election has started to feel a just a little ridiculous. (And I’m …
“You know, secretly I hope the power stays off.” I’m sure it was an innocent mistake. Whenever I’ve driven a large truck (moving truck size), I’ve been a nervous wreck. The truck is so very huge, and I’m so very unsure of where its edges are, where the edge of the road is, where the other cars might suddenly appear from. Perhaps this driver was a novice; perhaps he was an expert. Perhaps he was sloppy, perhaps it was a true accident. Either way, when he drove away, something snagged, then caught. There was a loud, dull thud, a sound …
“If they stole my parking lot for some show, I’ll have to go out there and kick someone’s ass… “ The parking lot outside my window is empty of cars, surrounded by a chain-link fence and crawling with men in hard hats. They are raising a large canvas overhead, a feat requiring poles, guy ropes, and perhaps the tractor that keeps driving in tight circles underneath the partially erect tent. The plywood wall that will encircle the lot soon enough is going up in stages. A worker was painting the public side yesterday, careless of her brush in the breeze, …
“What is up with this weather? Yick!” I love autumn. That is reaffirmed for me every year as soon as the last dregs of summer fade. Of course, as soon as the flowers start to appear at winter’s end, I will proclaim, just as loudly I’m sure, that I love spring. I must have driven everyone around me nuts this past spring, exclaiming over every flower, from the flats for sale outside the Bad Breisig florist to the orderly tulips in the Netherlands to riots of unchecked growing in private Cinque Terre gardens. But it is autumn in San Francisco …
“Who let the dogs out? Woof! Woof! Woof!” They started coming before 11, clogging the street and filling the parking lot, then streaming toward the stadium. Despite the early fall chill in the air, they came in summer clothes, T-shirts emblazoned with the Giants’ black and orange logo, caps covered in buttons. There were some with jackets, with the required emblems and colors of course, but mostly they came as if the sunlight wasn’t filtered through a high haze of fog. I sat in my windowed office space and watched the parade stream past. The air conditioning was turned up …