Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Sept. 30, 2020: Turn Off His Microphone -- Duh!


There is a very simple way to deal with time-and-space-hogging BULLIES in a debate:


As they say, it ain't rocket science. The organizers can make it a policy to only turn on a debater's mic when it is his turn to speak. That's it! When I ran for Mayor of San Francisco and spoke at so many forums, sometimes we were told that our mic would be turned off if we went over our allotted time. Not that we were ever uncivil. It is very easy to have a lively debate within the bounds of civility. But often candidates would try to go on longer than they were entitled to talk.

Carolyn and I had planned to watch the debate in our separate flats and then get together on Zoom to discuss it. She phoned me very early on in that chaotic travesty and said she couldn't bear it and was turning off the TV. I'm sure I would have too, if I didn't feel a responsibility as Blogmistress to witness it all.

I chose the photo above because it shows Biden speaking directly to the audience, which he did often and Trump never did. Biden was always very effective when he looked us in the eye, usually reminding us of what we already know about the difference between him and Trump.

Yes, Biden stumbled and misspoke often. He was spirited and combative but not fluent. I wish he hadn't returned Trump's insults with his own insults. But how can I criticize what he did in this nightmarish situation, in which First Bully was going all-out to create chaos?

Of course Trump lied lied lied lied, bringing up "scandals" that had evaporated long ago, like Bidden's son's activities in the Ukraine.

What would have been the ideal response
for Biden to give to Trump's insanity?

I have an idea, having been in a similar situation years ago. Not that the stakes were quite as high as last night.

I was performing WAITING FOR THE PODIATRIST at Venue 9 in San Francisco in 2003. When we were in the final stages of rehearsal, we were chortling over what a winner the play was going to be! Sometimes you know when you've got a hit on your hands.

And sometimes you just THINK you've got a hit on your hands. For whatever reason, the audiences were miniscule. TINY! Very disheartening. What one does in situations like that is paper the house, which means giving away tickets to people who are unlikely to pay to attend -- and in this case that was anybody. Our producer chose to give away a block of tickets to the neighborhood halfway house for recovering drug addicts.

I don't blame the halfway house residents who came. They were probably ordered to attend this play with puppets and songs about a middle-aged Jewish lesbian visiting the intensive care unit where the father puppet lies in a coma. It is possible they had never been to a play before and were unfamiliar with theatre etiquette, which requires one to sit in one's seat and SHUT UP.

It turned out that -- despite the wonderfullness of this production, the wit, the charming songs, the pathos, the whatever -- these particular audience members were not thrilled with PODIATRIST, and they wanted me to know. It also turned out that they were homophobic AND antisemitic and wanted me to know that too.

It was a horrible experience, both for me and the rest of the audience, as I kept grinding away through the performance. It's not a good thing for the audience to feel sorry, not for your character, but for YOU the performer. I also felt sorry for me and didn't know what to do except to soldier on until it was over. Unfortunately, there was an important critic in the audience that night, and her review reflected the dreariness of the experience, without mentioning the source of the dreariness. Sometimes you can't lose for losing.

But all artists know that.
ANYHOW, afterwards, I asked myself..

What could I have done differently?

And I decided that I could have simply dropped my character and spoken directly to the troublemakers and asked/told them to leave -- which I'm certain they would have been thrilled to do. I would not have gone on with the play until they were gone. And then I could have graciously apologized to the remaining few denizens of those oh-so-many chairs and cheerfully returned to playing Alex, who had a very dicey relationship with the Mother puppet.

I would have had to refuse to go on with the play while these audience members were misbehaving. That would have been the appropriate thing to do.

And that's what Biden should have done. He should have said to that ludicrously wimpy moderator, "I'm sorry, but this is not a debate. This is (as one commentator described it) a brawl. If you cannot do something to control President Trump, we cannot continue."

Sometimes the show SHOULD NOT go on.

Not until some changes are instituted. But of COURSE I don't blame Biden for not thinking of that, just as I don't blame MYSELF for not thinking of stopping the show.

Trump wasn't there to debate. He was out to psychology destroy Biden, to shred him. He did not succeed in that. For whatever the glitches were, I admire Joe Biden for refusing to be knocked over.


Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Sept. 29, 2020: Election Volunteer Info & Linky Pleasures & A Photo

I wrote five letters so far today. That's really my favorite. I was downloading 20 letters at VOTE FORWARD, But that made me feel overwhelmed. You can also choose to just download five at a time, so that's what I'm doing right now. This is my basket of letters so far.

Tonight is the debate. Of course we're all in a tizzy about it. Carolyn and I are going to Zoom afterwards, so we can talk about it together. I need that, good or bad, I need to talk.
I've been getting amazing responses to my last blog. It's interesting: The more I worry that I might have gone too far in being too personal, the more people respond to it. I would say that my secret power is that I know that I am ordinary -- that is, I know that every single thing I think and feel is also thought and felt by many others. I could say that I'm extra-ordinary, because I'm a bit of an exhibitionist and get pleasure in sharing those thoughts and feelings with a large public. I tell my own secrets with the deep-down security that they are everyone's secrets.

I have to say that horrendous selfie I took makes me laugh hysterically every single time I look at it.

Linky Pleasures

An amazing video, A Murmuration of Starlings. Thanks, Gail Lynch for this.

Andy Borowitz is a great -- and very succinct -- satirist with the Washington Post. You can subscribe to his column. This column is about Trump's concerns that Americans are taking over the elections.

Tara Ayres turned me on to this podcast, Our Plague Year, the thoughts and voice of one Joseph Fink. I had to make it through a rackety rap beginning before Whatever You Do Next made me sit up straight when Fink said, "If an 87-year-old woman dying of cancer puts us in this terrible position -- let's face it: We've been in this terrible position for quite a while." He said that our dearly beloved political system, by giving disproportionate political power to the rich few, is operating exactly as it was intended by the Founders. Oy vey! I see a People's Constitutional Convention in our future! We need to redo the whole things, folks!

I'm not saying you're REQUIRED to be a lesbian to listen to Dykapella, The Gates of Heaven. But I think there's quite a lot of extra joy there for women of the dykely persuasion. I love the build to what should be a sapphic classic, "Sit on My Face." Again, thanks to Tara.

A Photo
I saw "Sylvia Loves Eve" this morning at the local playground, where I went throw the ball for the pups. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. Maybe it was written by adults, and maybe it was written by young girls. Whoever wrote it saw no reason to hide the fact that two women/girls loved each other. Isn't it nice that such things can happen?

I remember long ago when I was visiting my sister Nancy, and her four-year-old daughter Rose announced that she and her friend Lucy were going to get married when they grew up. Nancy's response? A very nonchalant "That's nice, dear."
Rose is 31 now, and didn't turn out to be a lesbian. But even then Nancy had no fear of it. Some things really have gotten better.

Almost time for the debate, Bloggelinis! I'll write you again soon! Terry




Yesterday, I got out of bed. I felt like I was on my knees, like I had been bludgeoned, not by my own itty-bitty personal life, but by the world, by what is happening right now in our country, culminating in -- at the moment until something even more horrendous happens -- the obscene rush of Trump and his henchpeople to choose a replacement for just deceased Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Overwhelmed, beaten-down, vanquished. terrified.

I dragged myself to the kitchen where I immediately whacked my head on a cabinet door.
I had a very strong desire at that moment to call it a day and go back to bed, but I remembered the wise words of Chita Rivera, the actress who originated the role of Anita in WEST SIDE STORY:
Rivera said this in an interview, when she was making a comeback after years in obscurity. The interviewer asked her if she had any advice to give others in show biz who experienced a similar plunge in their careers, and she said:
I read that interview many years ago, and those words made a big impression on me. It seemed like profoundly good advice. And simple, easy to remember. Just two words. So I followed it, although I was exhausted from hardly sleeping the last two nights because of being so worried... you know, about about ... you know.

In my last Baumblog, I urged us all not to panic, to practice Radical Acceptance. But somehow that doesn't work for me once I'm in bed.

No, Radical Acceptance wasn't working yesterday, but KEEP MOVING was. I fumbled through preparing the pups' breakfast, then invited them to leave their California King Poodle Bed....
..... for a bit of nourishment.

I tried to avoid open cupboard doors and other sharp objects at head height.

I reminded myself not to shuffle as I dragged myself around, as that increases the likelihood of tripping.

I did the dishes left over from a happier time, the night before.

I cleaned up the dogshit.

I cut back the vine that threatens to consume the entire garden and house.
You see that sneaky little tendril on the right? That wasn't there yesterday after I pruned the vine back to keep it from entering the kitchen.

And as I was KEEPING MOVING, trying to avoid either banging my head or shuffling my feet, I began to wonder:
I am using here "Republican" as a synonym for "evil."

Now, the Holocaust proved once and for all that there is no all-powerful benevolent god who intervenes in worldly affairs for the benefit of humanity.
Because if there were such a kindly deity, certainly s/he would have caused at least one little earthquake to disrupt the train tracks to Auschwitz. And would it have been too much to ask for a gigantic earthquake affecting Auschwitz itself? That would have been a nice thing, God! Your reputation would be in much better shape today if you had done that!

In fact, after five years of researching the Holocaust for the play I was writing, did I come across ONE INSTANCE of a natural event that Jews could describe as God intervening on their behalf? NEVER! NOT ONE!

And WE'RE the ones who discovered this goddam monotheistic God! Nobody would even KNOW about him/her/it if it hadn't been for the JEWS! So if this god is so nice, he/she/it would CERTAINLY have helped US before ANYONE! Right?

It just gripes my ass when someone says, "The surgeons operated for five hours, and she recovered! God saved her life!" If I was a surgeon, that would really piss me off. I mean, I'm NOT a surgeon, and it pisses ME off. It offends my sense of reason. If I was a surgeon, I would say, "If GOD did it, then HE should repay all that money I borrowed to go to medical school, not ME!"

So no benevolent god. Not happening. The jury is no longer out on this one.

But what about an EVIL god? Of course I know there is no god one way or the other, but how to explain this really rotten lucky our side is having?

EXHIBIT ONE: If Ruth Bader Ginsburg lasted this long, couldn't God have let her live two more more months, until Trump & Company got their asses kicked?

EXHIBIT TWO: The pandemic. Okay, I know some kind of pandemic was inevitable. The experts have been saying that for a long time. But did it really have to happen on TRUMP'S WATCH? Why couldn't it have happened when OBAMA was President? Can you imagine how different that would have been? Calmness, reason, organization, everyone wearing a mask as a patriotic act, tens of thousands of lives saved. Of maybe it could have been delayed until BIDEN was in office. Hopefully, there are just four years of Trumpian insanity in world history. Why also a pandemic coinciding?

Starting to look like suspicious timing, eh?

And then:
EXHIBIT THREE: A lightning storm in CALIFORNIA??? I'm sorry. I'm a native and I don't remember one of those. There are very few THUNDER storms at all in California. I remember once, when I was a kid and my parents were gone, Nancy and I were so frightened by the phenomenon of an ordinary thunderstorm that I decided we should drag our mattresses into the hall, so we wouldn't be struck by lightning coming in a window.

This is how weather works: LIGHTNING is followed by THUNDER is followed by RAIN, which puts out any possible fires the LIGHTNING has started. And this particular sequence happens all the time in other parts of the country but rarely in California. Am I right or am I right?

But just a whole shitload of LIGHTNING?!? Come ON!

We are having some hella bad luck, Bloggelinis. Or is it "just" luck?!?

That's what I was thinking when the phone rang, and it was my friend Revital. She asked how I was and I told her I was on my knees. She's Israeli, and she told me the Hebrew expression for that, which translates as "on the plank," as in "lying on the floor."

You know, it's one thing to be on your knees and it's a totally different thing to tell your good friend that you're on your knees. Suddenly, you're not on your knees anymore. You're chatting with another human being about a multiplicity of things in your life, in her life, in the world.

After we hung up, I got off my knees and went on with my day. I actually started reorganizing my guest room, which is where I have taken to throwing things since the pandemic started. It was so crammed with stuff overflowing onto the floor that I could hardly make my way in without stumbling, shuffle or no.
I made real progress. I'm not saying I finished the job, but you should have seen it before!

Well, Bloggelinis, last night I slept better and I'm feeling my normal self, ready to
greet and change the world. I'm writing some Vote Forward letters today! Terry

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Sept. 21. 2020: DON'T PANIC! ALRIGHT. PANIC.

SEPTEMBER 21, 2020


C'mon, folks! Get over yourselves! Things aren't so bad. It's not like the sun doesn't rise every day, like you suddenly wake up one morning to a dark orange world.

Never mind.

It's not like if you're depressed you can't go for a walk in the beautiful forest or along the beautiful coast! It's not like the whole planet is being destroyed by fire or flame or both!

Never mind.

It's not like we live in a dictatorship where people are not equal under the law! Where powerful people can violate laws with impunity! We live in a democracy, the oldest one in the world! Our founders had the wisdom to give us three branches, to balance each other, so the country could never go totally astray. Three branches: The President, the Congress with the Senate being supreme, AND the Supreme Court! They can't all get screwy at once, right? The most stable democracy that ever was! A democracy, do you hear me?!?

Never mind.

Let's not even talk about the pandemic and the tottering economy. Alright. We're all entitled to a little bit of panic.

But we cannot stay panicked. That isn't good for us, for those we love, for the world. We must, when we can, move on to...


And Radical Acceptance asks the question:

This being the case, how do I proceed?

This does not mean that we never feel panic again. It doesn't mean we don't grieve. I was watching a very short ad for Biden that consisted of a man holding his small son, talking about the fact that the little boy was born with a serious malady -- the very definition of a pre-existing condition -- and without Obamacare, he would have no medical coverage. I just burst out sobbing, for all the pointless pointless suffering the Republicans have caused and will cause if they're not roundly thrashed in the election.

It was very cathartic, my sobbing. And when I stopped crying, I asked myself:

This being the case, how do I proceed?

I think this is what we need to attend to before anything else:

First, stanch the bleeding.

Our democracy is bleeding out right now. I think we all know that. We have to do everything we can do influence this election. Unfortunately we're hamstrung by the pandemic. Otherwise thousands of us could spend time canvassing, going door-to-door, in swing states. That's what people did the first time Obama ran in 2008. I myself was planning to spend October in Pennsylvania.

But we still can phone bank and write letters with Vote Forward, which is a recent and exciting innovation. And remember, those Democrats who we get to the polls will also probably vote for the Democratic candidate for Senate. So by working on the election, we're trying, both to elect Biden President, AND to elect a majority-Democratic Senate. HERE IS A LINK TO MY LAST BAUMBLOG. Scroll down toward the bottom and find lots of links to work you can do. I have not done the Google doc yet with all the links.

And remember:

No matter how bad things are.......

They can get worse!

I know, I know. Things can get better too. We used to say things WILL get better. "They can get worse" might sound totally depressing but it's not! It means many things, one of which is: Enjoy what you have to enjoy NOW! Don't stay sunk is misery.

Do what needs to be done, and enjoy what is there to enjoy!

Because who knows what the future holds? Good or bad, we just don't know at this point. And that's okay. Because obviously we never DID know! We just THOUGHT we knew!

Enough, Bloggelinis. I'm going to the bookstore to pick up my copy of RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. I took a class in it several years ago. It really helped me. I think I lent the book to someone, I can't remember who. Bloggelinis, I enjoy this blog and your letters to me. Thank you for keeping me going. Terry


Monday, September 21, 2020



September 17, 2020

The Most Important Thing/
Mea Culpa #2/A Mistake/Funny Link


The Most Important Thing: We've got so much to keep track of, to watch, to be outraged by. It's easy to lose track of THE MOST IMPORTANT THING, which is defeating Trump.

I am NOT talking about just voting for Biden. I certainly hope you are planning to vote for Biden. If you're not, you should skip this section. I'm talking about WORKING for Biden, doing all you can to urge others to vote for Biden so that we can get as many Democratic votes as possible, especially in the swing states. Even if a majority of voters support Biden, there are so many obstacles to victory -- election day chaos, the pandemic, US Post Office subversion, Russian interference on social media, voter suppression, the Electoral College... What else? Because of this, those of us with a fervent belief in the necessity of getting rid of Trump must do EVERYTHING we can to increase voter turnout of Democrats.

Above is a letter I wrote for the VOTE FORWARD project, which sends personalized letters to registered Democrats in swing states who are not regular voters. These letters do not mention a candidate because research shows it's more effective to just urge Democrats to vote. You need to print out the letters and write in your OWN personal message about why you vote. I've written 30 letters so far. I write on all my VF letters:
"Making laws and spending tax money is REAL power.
I want to have a say in who has that power."

Other people write more personal statements about how voting makes them feel, or their parents' commitment to voting. Then you put the letters in envelopes, stamp and address them and wait to hear from Vote Forward for instructions on when to mail them. According to research, this tactic increases voter turnout by 2-3%.

I went to a Buddhist "election retreat," as they called it, on Zoom, where we wrote letters, meditated and heard a dharma talk. They encouraged us to decorate the envelopes in any way we wanted, to induce people to open them. I was thrilled, because I have so many stamps and stickers.

For all local Bloggelinis, I offer to print out a packet of 20 letters, and also supply stamped envelopes. You can pick them up at my place, which is located at 547 Douglass St., the precise center of San Francisco. Then I will contact you when it's time to drop them in the mailbox. Email me if you'd like me to supply you. I'll tell you when you can come pick up your supplies. I'll also give you instructions on the most efficient way to fill them out.

Vote Forward is just one option. There is also phonebanking. Here is a list:

You've got to plan ahead for this one. They meet every other Sunday, 10am-2pm. They send you EVERYTHING in advance, including a large prepaid envelope for you to send them all your finished letters. They ask for a $25 donation for the postage. This is organized by Berkeley Zen Center, and they have very well-known Buddhist teachers giving the 25-minute talk. I thought it was great.
Indivisiblesf has many phone banks to choose from, some focused on Senate races and other elections. I worked on one for Amy McGrath, who is running for the Senate against Mitch McConnell.
Manny's is a very innovative community space with exciting programs all the time. During the primary campaign, almost all the Democratic candidates came to Manny's to speak. Manny is now organizing phone banking which you can do remotely from anywhere. IF YOU'RE LOCAL, you can go and work in their Victory Booths at the corner of Valencia and 16th Streets. Yes, while everyone else built space for people to eat outside, Manny's built space for people to WORK ON THE ELECTION outside! Thanks, Manny! You need to reserve time in the Victory Booths:

Also, Stephen Colbert of THE LATE SHOW, has a website where you can watch a video on what you need to vote in every state in the union. Fifty different videos. Pretty impressive. So please spread that news around.

I think that's enough, at least to start off with. Please please consider working on the Biden campaign -- and if you don't want to do that, then choose another campaign. Certainly getting rid of McConnell from the Senate is a noble endeavor. There are MANY noble endeavors out there. Your joy will be intensified if we win. And you'll feel less terrible if we lose.

If you know of any other resources, please tell me. I'll make a Google Doc with all the info, so you can access it easily.

MEA CULPA #2: Two Bloggelinis wrote me with outrage at my casual contempt for the fate of the Snowy Plovers of Ocean Beach. One of them is a friend, passionate birder Laurie Graham, and we had a very enlightening email exchange about it. Thank you, Laurie, for taking the time to share with me information on the very shaky future of these little birds (which were not, by the way, the birds in my photo -- but that's irrelevant.) I will treat them with deference in the future.

You wouldn't know that was a really big couch just by looking at that picture, would you? Allowing Nikki on the couch has really gone to his head. Now he's trying to commandeer my BED. That is out of the question because if he gets on, then Loulou will demand to sleep there too. Then where will I sleep? I guess if they're on the bed, that would free up the couch for me.

FUNNY LINK: I have watched this excerpt of The Daily Show four times now. It starts at 8:44, at the end of Trevor Noah's discussion of the uproar over the Academy Awards' new rules requiring diversity in the movies nominated for the Best Picture Oscar. One of the ways to satisfy the requirement is to have a person of color in a major role. Roy Wood Jr., part of The Daily Show team, is one of those people who is just naturally funny. I'm going to watch it again right now. It makes me laugh just to think about it.

Bloggelinis, that's it for now! I will try to blog more frequently. Somehow my days have gotten a little blurry and I end up at night having done.... what? Often I can't figure it out. An eternal problem, but I think magnified by the pandemic, the fires, the political insanity..... Anyhow, the letters I get from you keep me going. Thank you so much for responding, even when -- especially when -- I've outraged you. Terry

Monday, September 14, 2020



SEPTEMBER 12, 2020

& Update


Update First: Today there is a fine white ash visible over many surfaces. Carolyn's family and friends in Oregon are all on Level One evacuation alert, which means they should be ready. She says the air in Portland, Oregon is the worst in the world -- over 750 AQI. 350 is "Extremely Unhealthy." Can anyone say "Global Warming"? And then I heard on the radio that Turkey and Greece are on the verge of going to war over newly discovered oil deposits in the Mediterranean Sea! Are they kidding?!? PLEASE LEAVE THAT OIL WHERE IT BELONGS, under water!

Last Wednesday was the only day of apocalyptic darkness. In retrospect, I wish we HAD gone for a walk on the beach on that frightening day, because the air has been much worse since then. I realize now it would have been totally cool, not to mention great photos. But at the time I was too freaked out.

The two other years when we had terrible fires, I would walk masked against the smoke to a cafe and sit inside, get high on caffeine, read and write. With the pandemic this year, I would find a cafe with seats outside and do my thing. But now with the pandemic AND the fires ---- cafe hanging-out option go bye-bye.

Went to a Buddhist dharma talk this morning. I often do three a week. So easy with Zoom. I do not know what I would do without Buddhism. The teacher said, "Buddhism teaches us impermanence, but I really did expect the sun to rise every morning!"

SUNSET RAMBLE 2: Elizabeth and I had walked south the first day and then north the second day. We saw many snowy plovers.

Then they flew.
I resent these snowy plovers. For nine months of the year, I can't take my pups off the leash because they're nesting. NINE MONTHS! In my opinion, a city is for children first, adults second, and dogs third, with snowy plovers way down the list, after hummingbirds and butterflies. Let the snowy plovers nest somewhere else! California has thousands of miles of deserted coastline! And don't get me started about the coyotes in San Francisco...

Then we walked on the path a bit above the beach, where we could see the houses on the Great Highway. This was the most special house of the day.
Thank you, creators of this great gift to the street!

Wonderful sculptures in this window, many of which I couldn't capture because of the reflections. The cat is certainly store-bought, but the others are original. I must say, to be able to create an image in three dimensions is very impressive to me. I feel the presence of the artist's hands shaping it. This is one of my many little sculptures:
I mean, a cow playing the trumpet, who could resist? It's from San Miguel de Allende in Mexico.

Color color color. I love deep bright colors. Wish I had the nerve to paint my house this bright a color. But my neighborhood is not funky enough. Good relations with one's neighbors are important.

Perhaps the most exciting paint job in San Francisco

Moving on to the Wilhelmina windmill and the Tulip Garden, which is without tulips at the moment.
There are two windmills in Golden Gate Park. This one is a present from the late Queen of the Netherlands. The other one is from a man who was not a monarch, but a windmill-giver nonetheless. The windmills both functioned to pump water for the park, before there was electricity.

Then on to Park Chalet, where we sat outside and ate delicious food -- after the hostess took our temperature. That was my first time for that.
We saw this group come in and sit down. Elizabeth pointed out the older woman sitting apart. She notices details like that. Undoubtedly this woman was more concerned about her health than the young ones. So she was part of the group, but not part. Needless to say, sitting in a group close and unmasked is not legal. Unless they're a pod. Very doubtful. But Elizabeth and I could sit near each other unmasked LEGALLY! Yay for Podhood!
This is the interior of Park Chalet, which opens out into the park. This belongs to the city. Sometimes San Francisco gets things right.

Park Chalet, which faces Golden Gate Park, is back-to-back with Beach Chalet which faces (you guessed it) the beach. There are fabulous WPA murals from the '30s in Beach Chalet. But it was closed, and I was SO disappointed, because Elizabeth had never seen them. BUT it turned out you had to walk near them to get to the bathroom. They were cordoned off, so I couldn't get close to take photos. The theme of the murals is Recreation in San Francisco.
The stairway up to Beach Chalet restaurant, which is now closed. The banister is made of octopuses carved in marble. When I first moved to San Francisco in 1977, Beach Chalet was a seedy bar. We always took visitors there for a drink. We thought it was the coolest thing in the world to have great public art in a seedy bar. One day I was there with my girlfriend Alice, and I tried to kiss her. She pushed me away, saying "This is not the place for that." Me: "Aw, come on!" Alice: "Listen, I'm the one who would get beat up!"

I realized she was right. She was very butch.
Here's a view of the windmill and Beach Chalet from the beach.

We found a new improvement right next to the beach. Another win for the City of San Francisco:
The Public Convenience Station!

Not only was it convenient, it was clean and had no smell.
And this was the man who kept it looking and smelling so good:

He told us he checked both bathrooms every 30 minutes! Isn't that all amazing and old-fashioned and strange? Just charming!

Yes, life is better when there are attractively built, well-maintained public conveniences on the beach. Thank you, sir, for checking and cleaning every 30 minutes!

Then we headed back to our motel. On the way we saw...
And finally, we were home in our cosy motel room, where Loulou gazed out the window, wondering what adventures she would have the next morning.
None, as it turned out, since the sun decided not to put in an appearance and we thought the world was actually coming to an end. But at least we two dykes with our three dogs had two glorious days at Ocean Beach.

Well, that was a helluva lot of photos, wasn't it? But some things are so special that they deserve to be documented in detail. When Blogmistress goes on vacay, she must share the pleasure with her dear Bloggelinis. Terry