I went into the City today for vitally needed supplies, taking the bus in the afternoon when traffic was light. I read Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator on the way in. Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator is one of the few sequels that I think may actually be better than the first book. Where else do you have vermicious knids, an idiotic man as President of the United States, and a trip to Minusland? I also wouldn’t mind having a great glass elevator of my very own, especially when I am riding the 108 and the man next to me is looking askance at me for reading Roald Dahl.
Then I got in trouble with the 38 driver because I tried to board the bus at the wrong platform. It’s easy to rile MUNI drivers up. I think it’s part of the employment contract that you have to be easily riled. Perhaps this means I should become a MUNI driver, so that I can work my riles out. I actually wouldn’t mind driving the underground, because all I ever see them doing is reading the Chronicle or China Daily while the train basically drives itself.
Stand clear of the doors. The doors are closing.
I ambled around, as is my wont, and also because it was a beautiful day in San Francisco. There’s supposed to be a big storm rolling in, which I am really excited about. But I figured I should soak up my sun now, because it might be gone tomorrow. If that’s the case, I’ll be running around in the rain again. Oh yes.
When I got back to the Island Puff and I went for a walk around the Island. We cut through the Job Corps land. I’m not sure if I’ve talked about the Job Corps before here. Suffice it to say that I have some ethical issues with the Job Corps. I’m not sure if I am really ok with an organzation oriented at black and latino youth that basically trains them to be wage slaves. I see them boarding the bus to go to culinary school and security guard training and I feel sad. I mean, maybe that’s what they want to do, and maybe they are getting opportunities, and that is a good thing. But I feel a bit nervous, watching the future slaves of America, almost none of whom are white.
Anyway, we cut through the Job Corps land and someone asked us “what [we] are in for.” The Job Corps here tends to take a fair amount of juvenile offenders, I guess, giving them a chance to shape up their lives before going to prison. Puff just laughed and said “oh, we just live here,” which I think confused the man even more.
Breaking out to the western side of the Island, the sunset was just starting to get awesome. It was one of those sunsets that is indistinguishable from a sunrise. I joked and said I should start a series of spoof photos “Sunrise Over San Francisco” and that kind of thing, only of sunsets instead. I think that if they were framed well, it might take people a while to catch on to what was actually going on.
We walked back along the seawall while the clouds turned electric pink overhead. My fingers itched for a camera, with the bridges still dark and the fog growing, the Golden Gate’s tips being swathed in a grey blanket. Not a boat was out on the Bay, which looked sulky in the sunset. To the east, giant purple clouds loomed.
Civil twilight was over, and so was our walk.