I just finished reading a book which was so emotionally fulfilling and full of love that after I turned the last page and closed the cover, I had to hug the book against my chest for a minute or so, smiling. A short while later that morning I lost the book on one bus or another, on the way home from visiting my Dad in Fresno. I wonder if someone else will pick it up and read it, or it will be tossed out by the custodians like all the old newspapers and Coke cans? That would be a loss. Not that the book was expensive... but with things like this, it's not paying for them that's hard: it's discovering them. (Thanks, Angela!) The book was Dangerous Angels. Don't let its simple language fool you
was on my way to Burning Man headquarters to work on L2K (the ring of flashing lights around the Man). It was a bright, sunny, hot Sunday in the city. A chilly ocean breeze, normally the bane of San Francisco life, was actually pleasant... icy cool on my sun-toasted skin. I waited at a bus stop way out by the bay, on 3rd street where it intersects with 19th. Gotta love a mixed-up town where there are entire belts of numbered Streets as well as belts of numbered Avenues -- and don't confuse them or you'll find yourself shivering in the fog out in bumfuck Idaho instead of basking in the sunshine among hip thrift stores and trendy tapas restaurants -- but even better is the fact that some of th
