Whew! What a month.
Let's see... posted something that somehow never made it to the page here. Oh well, life will go on, but I'm sure it was something memorable, although I haven't a clue when or what or anything as to.
Wedding in Sierra Madre last Saturday for neighbors Gwen and Branden - lovely and bucolic in the foothills. Immediately after, I was absconded with to San Francisco for the Folsom Street Fair. I never need to do this again. Please remind me should this rear its ugly naked head again. A judgment call is coming, I can feel it. Let me cut to the chase by stating that there was some weird sights and no weight issues, as throngs of thongless ones wandered naked, stood on street corners masturbating, what have you. Because you can? Okay. I don't need this. Did I ever? Maybe. Old old old. Me, it, all of the above. Nasty.
Saw not one person that I knew - that's very telling of something. Survival status, maybe? Jeeze - I expected at least one encounter with someone still alive from there, or, perhaps visiting the sideshow. But, no.
Broke, busted, disgusted -- hey, that's a line from the Mamas and the Papas.
Agents can't be trusted... Creque Alley. SIng it, fat lady. Is this show over?
One plus was getting away from the thick air of LA for a day. Upon reentering the greater LA basin area, my eyes reacted to the smoke right away. The side of the 5, off near Magic Mountain and all that, had burnt bad and had more erratic spots in mysterious breakouts over the smoking crests. A beautiful creepiness.
Roll the footage:
