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traditionnnnn… TRADITION!!!

July 17, 2008

Louise came out this morning and we went to the Bridgehead for breakfast. Because Louise likes the Bridgehead too, and anyway, we all like places where they’ll let you sit around for hours. Then she took me by the post office, as Carol and Paul did two weeks ago, but luckily this time that evil harpy was nowhere in evidence, though I didn’t write about her in this blog as I consider the post office a NATIONAL PROBLEM rather than a local one. And I’m more or less sure they have an evil harpy production plant in some desolate and secret part of the Midwest, where they’re growing evil harpies in gigantic viscous toxic vats and shipping them UPS to every branch in the country…

Anyway, after that we went down to the river, and we walked along the Marina path and commented on the bizarre appearance of humidity in our weather– because thank God at least one other person has noticed this and KNOWS IT IS NOT RIGHT! Today was very humid, but as it was mild and windy it was actually quite pleasant, in an unCalifornian kind of way. There were people fishing everywhere, especially in that tiny little waterway between the berths and the path– are fish really dumb enough to swim in there and get caught, where they can practically look up and see the people holding the poles? On the way out, they said they were fishing for bass, and on the way back, they said they were fishing for bluegill.

So then we continued on the path till it turned along the wetlands and we decided to eat the blackberries off the bushes, even though they were covered in spiderwebs and probably also in Dow emissions. They always look pretty shriveled and cooked, but the few ripe ones we found were actually very delicious, though a little hot from being in the sun. Then we went down to the end of the path and sat by the water and argued about what the smokestack over by the bridge used to belong to, and she told me about how they went over to the shipyard and climbed The Last Sand Dune the night after graduation, and then we argued about Shakespeare: I said Twelfth Night was the stupidest play he ever wrote and she said no, Pericles Prince of Tyre was much much stupider (she had just seen it). She knows a lot more about Shakespeare than I do, so she’s probably right.

Then we went to Riverview, and sat by the window and ate fried clams, the only other reliable item besides bacon. I saw a retired AHS English teacher sitting in the bar. And we continued to look out at the smoke-filled skies, which down by the water you can see in every direction, and if I was in any doubt about why my eyes are about to catch fire and fall out of my head, I’m certainly not any more. She said going to Bridgehead and Riverview is our tradition, and I guess it is; she’s the only other person who goes to Riverview voluntarily, knowing all its faults in advance. Everyone likes Bridgehead, though.

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