Yes, leaving for the train at 10 AM, then alighting back in Menlo Park at 4 PM, that does almost add up to a workday. In Germany, lunch included, it would only be one hour shy. Look at it that way. But why look at it at all? That is the thing. What adds up, adds up. And it may add up later, that is the other thing. In any case, as soon as I learned that my San Francisco friend Steve had finally gotten his wheelchair, I was off. Moreover, I was even on time. For the way of it is simple enough, Read more [...]

Don't let anyone tell you that writing gets it out of your system. Or, if they do, demand to know what 'it' is. Because by the platitudinous standard, I should not have any more 'it' inside me for the day, perhaps for the week. For, Dear Diary, I really have been cranking up a literary storm this very hour. Decided to write something adventurous and just for fun. Which as we all know is the surest route to madness. Albeit purgative madness. That is the idea. Getting 'it' out. Just as homosexuals Read more [...]

It is a basic fact of paralytic life that when you stand up to dictate, your right elbow knocks the cover off your microphone. Why is this? Why is any of this? The first and most obvious question involving dictation. Speech recognition being the answer, of course. The standing up part? Well, that has to do with general musculoskeletal decline. You have been told to stand. To stand as much as possible. Even if you can't stand it. Take a stand anyway. Take a bow while you're at it. It's all hard work. Including Read more [...]

Thing is, when it works, it works well. I can insert myself into areas of San Francisco with almost surgical precision, vis-à-vis public transit. In fact I could see it, the target area, more or less clear in my mind. The touristy garlic restaurant, Stinking Rose, making its bold kitschy Italian-esque statement on Columbus Avenue. For, yes, I'd seen it, and felt that the very novelty of it was worth a try. After all, how can one go wrong with garlic? But as for the transport, everything went precisely Read more [...]

I am urging Laurel toward the train station. She's an old friend, currently visiting from near Sacramento, and she doesn't know our suburban foot routes, their length or duration. And it is important, today's regular visit to the dermatologist. Fateful, one might say. But damned if we aren't making good time, Laurel and I. Unbeknownst to me, this is the carless era. Oh, I know it in a way. But this particular epoch has lasted so long that it does not feel like a phase. Yes, there may come a time Read more [...]

Mine was a late arrival at the Sunday morning market. A farmers' market, in these our United States. It will be decades before this idea of a regular outdoor gathering of itinerant vendors gets fully established in this country. So farmers' market it is, unless it happens to be a flea market, another misnomer. Because, let us be blunt, farmers are pretty thin on the ground on Sundays in Menlo Park. There are a few vendors who grow, or are close to people who grow, their own food. But not many. And Read more [...]