Home for a Holiday

I went home to my parents house in Rochester, Minnesota for Thanksgiving. While waiting at baggage claim I got an email from a former coworker, who wrote:  “Pretty cold there right now, huh?”

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Tiring and Retiring: In which I remove myself from the workaday world

It’s time. I’ve saved for years. I bought five extra years’ service with the state, bolstering my pension. I don’t have to work in the court system any more. The judicial process is painstaking, and as a citizen I appreciate the serious efforts of the courts to apply the law, to resolve conflicts, to get things right — at the same time, I don’t have to take those pains myself any more.

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Minneapolis’s skyways

On our last day in Minneapolis, we checked out of the Normandie Inn (which we had enjoyed), and decided to go for a walk before I drove the missus to the airport. During prior visits I’d wonder at how quiet the sidewalks downtown are. In San Francisco’s Financial District, the sidewalks are always busy. Okay, perhaps there aren’t as many people in downtown Minneapolis; I don’t know how many white-collar workers per square yard each city has. I just know the sidewalks midday had seemed eerily deserted, even during my visits between May and September. It took me a while to realize they are all using the skyways. 

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Home Just Before the Holidays

You might think visiting at that time of year might mean lots of hiding in doors, visiting friends and avoiding getting out and doing things. You might want to think again.  We had a great time, and never let the weather slow us down. You just prepare for it, ferrcryin’outloud, and go about your plans.

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Returning to Minnesota in December

I’ve lived in California for over three decades now, yet return home periodically.  Maybe 15, 16 times total, and almost always between May and October. Twice as late as Thanksgiving (and met by snowstorms each time—even a blizzard). This year for the first time since I left, I went back in December. 

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Just Another BART Altercation

Last night I saw this large, balding guy follow a short man onto the BART train, hollering at him. When the short fellow tried to laugh it off, the balding guy got right in his face, aggressively laughing back, mocking him as his head bobbed up and down. 

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The New Bay Bridge

Twenty-four years after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, we finally got a new bridge to replace the damaged eastern span of the San Francisco Bay Bridge. It’s pretty, despite SF Chronicle architecture critic John King’s dismissal.

Here’s the new span next to the old span.

 

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