progressive politics and regressive entertainment. like peanut and butter.
May 24, 2012 7 Comments
It seems unnecessarily derogatory, but here’s how they insult spoons at Humphry Slocombe Ice Cream in San Francisco. I got the Gabba Gabba Hey sundae. Delicious, but no picture of that.
April 26, 2012 Leave a comment
Sitting on my couch, working at home with the Red Sox game on the laptop and my cat Lucy on my lap.
April 18, 2012 Leave a comment
The view out the second floor window of the Redwood City Cinemark (I was there to see The Hunger Games). It’s part of what reminds me that I’m no longer living in New England. Not a ton of palm trees there.
April 17, 2012 Leave a comment
The new Palo Alto bike racks. They’re very inconvenient if you have a bike with a rack, but what they lack in practicality, they make up for in prettiness.
April 15, 2012 5 Comments
I took a look at the bulletin board at Berkeley Espresso and thought:
1) How depressing it is to have words reduced to their selling power.
2) This is what everyone thinks happens in Berkeley. Ad agencies and clitoris celebrations.
April 11, 2012 2 Comments
I was walking through the Tenderloin district of San Francisco and came across a place that appears to be resting on its laurels. 2004 Best Breakfast! But it was closed, and I was on the way to a magic show with some friends (a strange evening), so I wasn’t able to test their bacon and eggs.
March 26, 2012 2 Comments
My cat Lucy looking in search of the light.
March 14, 2012 Leave a comment
Edwards Stadium at the University of California in Berkeley is art deco, but you can’t quite tell as so much of its 1932 origins is hidden away, like this side door that I came across. Fulton Street is just a few yards away, but trees block the view of the door.
February 8, 2012 6 Comments
I crashed my bike last week, and by bike, I do not mean motorcycle. I mean bicycle, which I crashed soundly into the sidewalk.
The fall itself was embarrassing, but the fact that I am still recovering from my injuries that serves as another reminder of an aging body. Don’t get me wrong, the injuries are minor and I have little to complain about. I’m already able to open bottles of Kombucha again, and I can now shift gears on my car without yelping in pain. Little victories, little victories…
