Back To Monochrome
November 4, 1998


Working on it ... go make yourself a sandwich or call your mother or whittle a yo-yo out of a Presto log while you wait ... and then check back later tonight.


Later That Evening:

To paraphrase one of my favorite authors ...

... I am "transplanted back into monochrome after four days in glorious Technicolor."

My four days in California were amazingly fun and interesting and life-affirming. I came home feeling recharged. Even my bus driver noticed it when I climbed onto the #32 this morning: he said, "You seem like a different person."  

"Well," I replied, "My days of crying on the bus are over." Which no doubt warmed the cockles of his little Tri-Met Bus Driver's Heart, as weeping passengers are not necessarily the world's greatest advertisement for a public transportation system.

It's funny how something as simple as climbing onto an airplane and enjoying a change of scenery for a few days can breathe new life into a badly dented psyche. My friends Dave and Barb (from the old Boom Room days) dragged me over every inch of the San Francisco area ... and I loved every minute of it. I ate honey walnut prawns, and pawed through the bins at Amoeba Music looking for Bo Donaldsen albums; I threw good-luck pennies into the Jack London cabin. I stood at the the top of Twin Peaks watching terrified illegal immigrants quiver behind bushes, whilst an oblivious police officer stood forty feet away, eating a doughnut.

I spent Hallowe'en <--- (note the apostrophe) on Pier 39, where an obscenely obese gentleman wearing a Brownie Girl Scout uniform stepped on my left foot.

I posed for photo opps in front of bridges and beaches and graffiti-festooned seawalls. (Everywhere, in fact, except for Haight Ashbury: parking was nonexistent, so I had to content myself with a drive-by. Next time, maybe.)

There is a ton of other stuff I would love to write about tonight, but the fact is that I am absotively EXHAUSTED. Frankly it's a pure miracle that I've even managed to write this much. The last couple of days have been killers. I woke up yesterday morning and discovered that

1. I suddenly had no hot water,

and

2. There does not in fact appear to be a goddamn HOT WATER HEATER anywhere in the Tree House, which made solving the Hot Water Problem next-to-impossible ...

... so yesterday morning was cold shower time, which would be just fine in  -- oh, say, July  --  but is decidedly less delightful in  --  oh, say, NOVEMBER, at 5:45 a.m., no less ...

... the point being that I arrived at work wet and shivering and am now fighting that sore-throat-headachey crap that I hate ...

(Yeah, I know. Nobody wants to hear about me being SICK again. So I'm doing the Vicks VapoRub and Alka Seltzer Plus tonight and willing myself to feel wonderful again tomorrow.)

Seeya. I'll be back when I'm back.


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