Today I learned...

...'tis the season for berries, peaches, plums, pluots, and nectarines. After a delicious mid-morning snack of fruit samples at the Serramonte Farmer's Market, I settled on four white peaches, four yellow nectarines, and three boxes of perky raspberries from three different vendors with winning smiles. That should last us six desserts, or two days. At $2/lb , this "shop for produce at farmer's market" resolution is getting costly, but I'm kept motivated by the undeniable freshness and flavor, and merits of buying local.

...Saturday mornings are prime time for cashing in on recyclables. The two recycling centers on my errand route had long lines of sellers hauling 30-gallon trash bags stretched thin and bursting with empty cans and bottles. Mr. S., a homeowner where I volunteer, built his back deck using several months of redemption funds from recyclables.

...our neighbors down the hill consider stopping at Stop Signs optional. (Visitors, be warned.)

...my mind, body, and soul are still most content at an optimal ambient temperature (according to the bank time & temperature reading) of 73 degrees.

A Spare the Air Adventure

The Bay Area declared yesterday a free transit day, as part of its Spare the Air campaign. As with most other freebies, my family had been eagerly anticipating the chance to make the most of this event. So I wrapped up work early and joined them on an excursion downtown via public transit.

MUNI bus 9x took us through the most interesting segment of our trip, from the Popeye's at the corner of Mission and Geneva, where its Chinese workers joke fluently in Spanish with their Latino clientele,...past the iconic Cow Palace, whose many friends are protecting it from going the way of Bay Meadows,... through the Sunnydale projects (or "the Swamps" to locals), where we passed several pairs of SF's finest perched on their dirt bikes, getting to know the neighbors.

When we finally reached our destination an hour later, we had been worn down by the jack-rabbit starts and stops, rising mercury level, and sweaty cramped quarters. Strangely, we found comfort in the familiar bustle of Chinatown, where personal space is nonexistent. We relaxed for tea time at a coffee shop that served iced Horlicks, like we used to enjoy back home. We spent an hour meandering through tight produce markets, where hawkers yelled, "Cherries! Only 49 cents a pound! Tasty and beautiful, too!" in Cantonese sing-song chants. As we made our way to the bus stop, laden with bags of bargain fruits and vegetables, we passed a poster of Obama adorning the side of a newspaper vending box, with the Chinese tagline "Moving Forward". (A moveon.org campaign?)

Our field trip, which took us on four buses in as many hours, opened my eyes to parts of SF that I had never seen before. While pressed against the pock-marked metal walls of the buses, a welcomed coolness for my bare skin on a balmy day, I gained a greater appreciation for the diversity of this 7x7 town, especially among the working class.

It's Been A Long Time...

...since I've lived in a place where I drove around looking for a parking spot in the shade. Thank you, Global Climate Change.

The Speeding Motorcycle

I realize this is old news, but work kept me from posting sooner. (I know, gotta get my priorities straight.) I wonder if I'll ever master a skill that fetches $60 per anything.

And now, introducing, James and Sirius...
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For the uninitiated -- the horror! -- select Rowling under authors.

Dracula wouldn't be so picky

They rejected me. More nicely (and accurately) put, they "deferred" me until later this year. I'm talking about my visit to Blood Centers of the Pacific today, where after a lengthy survey and an intensive in-person interview, I was shown the door. All because of the question, "Have you been out of the United States in the last 12 months?" Alas, turns out one of my destinations last summer is in an area of "limited malaria risk".

Of course, I understand the concern about transmitting blood that could potentially be infected with malaria; I definitely don't want to risk contaminating the supply. But if they could pre-screen potential donors over the phone, that may save some of us taking time off work and trekking over there, only to be turned away. I told them so, verbally and in writing. Ah well, I should be in the clear 3 months and 3 days from now. In the meantime, I'll enjoy my free t-shirt.

If you haven't donated blood in the last 8 weeks, consider doing so, for these reasons. It's a great habit!

Who Writes His Speeches?

That's what I'd like to know. The eloquence and authenticity of the script, coupled with an impassioned black rhythm in his delivery, makes me want to burst into hopeful tears and raucous applause each time he addresses a crowd. I will not soon forget the riveting one he gave on March 18th and the one from this historic night. Now, time to forge ahead to turn words into action in the coming years.

iPossessed

Lately, I've been working more with the help of iListen, Mac's speech recognition/dictation software, to "save my hands" (special lingo for those of us with carpal tunnel or other forms of repetitive strain injury). Although I've "trained" the software to recognize my voice, it occasionally transcribes my sentences and simple rustling into meaningless word combinations. Today, I gasped when, while I was adjusting the microphone, the words, "I am home alone" appeared on the screen. Creeeepy...

Mode 3: Flying

I've mastered the art of walking as my main vehicularless mode of travel over the years. Recently, I added swimming to my repetoire, which will come in especially handy if I'm ever thrown overboard or need to swim to the next island. Last weekend, I was blown away (literally) by mode #3: flight. Okay, I suppose the parachute that I'd need if I was hurled out of a plane would be considered a vehicle of sorts, but humor me. If you haven't yet, gotta try indoor skydiving as at least a once in a lifetime experience. W-O-W!! Exhilarating, apparently a good simulation of the real thing, much cheaper, and you use loads less gas. Thanks, KQED, who thanked us with this treat!