Category Archives: Opposite Day

The doorstop.

Coincidence is one of my favorite spices in the seasoning of life. I yearn for the moments when things that never should have happened unfold as if they were planned.

I had one of these simple, mildly enlightening encounters the other day when searching for a heavy object to keep the door from slamming in our tiny San Francisco apartment. After successfully jamming most of our excess crap in a storage unit, I was having a hell of time finding an item that:

1) Would sit flat on the ground
2) Weighed enough to withstand a heavy breeze

And old pair of work boots had already failed me and my next move was TBD. Of course, the only reason the door has to remain open is for the dog to roam free around the apartment and he was anxiously watching my every move.

That’s when I spotted my trusty, battery-powered drill. It had all of the above-named characteristics, and to my surprise, perfectly matched our “burnt orange” big city couch. Problem solved—and color-coordination coincidence noted.

Doorstop.jpg

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If the shoe fits.

My early-morning San Francisco dog walks involve a fair number of encounters with homeless neighbors. I try to keep Woody from disturbing folks sleeping along the sidewalk and I encourage anyone looking for canine companionship to pet the anxious four-legged love monster known as Woody.

As you might expect, living among the destitute, we encounter a number of people who have resorted to digging through the trash for food scraps, cigarette butts and life’s other necessities. While I generally try to avert my gaze, Woody is usually enticed by the smell and the activity. This past Monday, his curious nature overtook my lazy wandering and he pulled me toward a friendly-looking homeless guy that often sleeps in the doorway across from our apartment.

“Good morning,” I said, struggling to get Woody back on track.

“He’s a strong little guy,” the guy responded, pulling a pair of women’s shoes from the bin. “They’re too small for me…but maybe there’s a lady in your life who could use them?” he said passing them my direction.

I assured him that we didn’t need the shoes and he tossed them back in the bin.

“It’s strange…this city…” he said, looking up toward Coit Tower, “There’s so much wealth and generosity. It’s not so bad out here when affluence breeds kindness, you know?”

I was following, but didn’t really know how to respond. I probably said something stupid about having a good day and Woody and I went on our way. I was glad to know that he’s getting by—with an ample supply of what he needs and a few things he doesn’t.

 

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Nice Shot: October Edition

'64 Galaxie.jpg

'57 Nomad.jpg

'59 Nash.jpg

The world is hard on things—especially cars. While so many old buildings continue to serve their purpose in modern times, old cars are often retired without a second thought. While today’s Nice Shot collection has seen better days, a person with some money to spare could certainly restore them to their original glory. Forgive the rhyme, but I’d start with the Nash, if I had the cash.

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Growing up is great.

Sometimes waking up and walking the filthy city streets of our North Beach neighborhood early in the morning gives me a thrill similar to the one I used to get after staying up all night and wandering home.

But at 1:45 AM I was comfortably situated on a mattress rather than a bar stool.

I’ve got a dog leash in my hand instead of a cigarette.

Best of all, I know exactly where all my stuff is.

Specifically (in no particular order):
– Car
– Wallet
– Keys
– Brain

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Making arrangements.

Yesterday was a lousy day in America. After some deeply disturbed coward in a Las Vegas hotel room left most of us feeling sad and hopeless, the office was silent. People on the street spoke of feeling vulnerable. I wound up at the grocery store wandering the aisles looking for plastic wrap and a friendly smile or two.

That’s when the Safeway floral department came into view. Colorful, living things—free from gun control debates, social media bullshit and the perpetual stress of trying to get by. Just pretty things that make human beings happy.

Suddenly, with a bouquet in my hands, the checker wanted to chat, neighbors stopped in their tracks to ask about the flowers and complete strangers nodded their heads when I passed by. I’ve never seen nine dollars go so far. Were people glad to see the flowers? Or happy to witness one human theoretically doing something nice for another? Maybe both? I suppose it doesn’t matter why people reacted—it’s just the simple fact that they showed signs of life on a day when so many were focused on the subject of death. And that’s noteworthy. Or, in this particular case, blog worthy.

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