I Can See Clearly Now?

Yesterday began auspiciously enough with a visit to Davies Medical Center. A friend had been admitted with a little blood on the brain. He was dismissed later in the afternoon. He seems to be recovering nicely.

That was followed by a three hour nap then lovely libations at Aliment on Bush Street. We sat in one of those outside stalls built on the parking spaces. We were protected from rush hour traffic by 3/4 inch plywood.

In the well-lit late spring evening I walked home slightly drunk. The Tenderloin was still and perfect. On every corner was the corporatization of this once people-centric city.

There was hope in the street art however. So vibrant and sharp. It was all so good, too good in fact. One wonders if that was bought and paid for by Jamie Diamond as well.

I know he didn’t pay for that boy in his luscious short-shorts.

Right now, I can’t read too good, don’t send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them from Desolation Row

Robbing Peter, Petering Paul

Coming out of the pandemic first annual year end malaise, today I happened on this song by Mick Jagger and Dave Grohl. It’s got a good beat, you can dance to it. I feel revived.

As I work on my valedictory for the preceding year, there are other signs of hope. I received my new passport and achieved a life long goal: I’ve always wanted to look like Mick or Iggy and now I do. We’re all old and haggard.

Get up off of that thing. Dance and you’ll feel better.