A bad idea for a sitcom
Surprise coming out party for a friend you suspect is gay. Lock him in a closet, invite his parents over and play this song when you throw open the door. Bonus points for rigging the closet door to a penis-shaped glitter cannon.
This happiness consisted of
nothing else but the harmony
of the few things around me
with my own existence, a feeling
of contentment and well-being
that needed no changes
and no intensification.
~ Hermann Hesse
Today I seek to find just the right balance between contentment and the urge to create, between acceptance and restlessness, between harmony and friction.
Three things I saw in Bay Area today
1. A baby was crying in the 12th Street Oakland BART stop, and its parents were desperately trying to calm it. Eventually the mother covered herself in a blanket and tucked the baby inside to breastfeed. The woman next to them—a tall, black woman with bright blue eyeshadow and waist-length dreads—stood up and loudly proclaimed “breast-feeding is best. It’s the best. My babies breastfed and they never ever got sick. and now my son, he’s a basketball player. He’s 6 foot 2!” She reached into her bubble gum-pink tote and produced a framed 8x10 portrait of her son in his high school basketball uniform and slowly turned to show it off like the illustrations in a picture book.
2. A streetcar rushed by on Market street, speeding through the intersection right before the light turned red. A 20-something man with shoulder length hair and a tan sweatshirt ran into the middle of the street, picked something up out of the tracks, and skipped back to the sidewalk.
"Hey," I shouted from down the block, "Did you just lay some pennies in the train tracks?"
"Yeah!" He grinned and held out his open palm in my direction. I got closer and examined his two pennies and single dime, which were shiny, flat and oblong.