- an eagle on the beach
- a pair of Rollerblades that fit tight
- a sign post bent into the shape of the front end of a pickup
- a “Private Beach Keep Off” sign
- a green cap
- a yellow polo shirt with the words “I Know Massage” printed on its back
- half a dozen monkey puzzle trees
- two radio controlled gliders, roughly the shape and color of seagulls
- a latter day addition to a historical marker acknowledging the names of those who are only referred to as “and wife” on the original monument
Walking back through Myrtle-Edwards Park after dark, I stop to inspect a shape laying in the grass. I take step closer and ask, “Is that a duck?” The shape shifts it’s weight defensively and turns its green mallard head to look at me. I can just make out a female right beside him, unstirred. I move back toward the path, “Sorry to disturb you.”
I’d almost swear that I spoke the words, “Is that a duck?” before I thought them. If that’s the case, then maybe the ducks were only there after they were thought of.
It just now occured to me that it’s unlikely that doctors will ever send patients into orbit (where today’s astronauts tend to lose calcium) to treat their arthritis. Weekly Reader lied.
I’ve been meaning to do a thorough overhaul of the site for quite awhile, but just haven’t gotten around to it. So this afternoon I decided just to start with broad gestures: New domain, new webhost, new CMS, and here we are. Most old links still work, some of the older photo entries are busted. The changes would be a bit further along, except I left it at one point to play croquet in the park.
Ken Hucherson is a Kirkland preacher who declared a boycott against Microsoft after they supported a state gay rights bill. At this moment, he’s running laps in Cal Anderson Park across the street from me, a park that was named after the state legislator who tried for years to get a gay rights bill passed. He’s yelling as he runs — not about anything in particular, or at least not about god or about gay people. This isn’t his first visit. He was out here one day last week too.
Also, he’s dyed one side of his goatee gray and the other black. I like his beard that way, it looks good.
Our team of researchers have combed through reams of data and compiled a schedule of what you can expect from the coming month. Their document is called the April Beans for Breakfast Print Calendar. It comes in two sizes, the first for those in the U.S. and adjacent countries, the second for those who live elsewhere:
I slip into the park on the way back from the post office and stop and sit. I’m carrying nothing with me. I would usually have a book, a notebook, Treo, a camera, the Stranger or the Weekly, or a cup of tea or hot chocolate: a prop to distract me from myself.. The park is filled with people with props: dogs on leashes, juggling pins, an R/C plane. No hula hoops today, not yet anyway. I finish, well nothing, and walk back to the apartment. Kelsey drives past in a pickup. I ran into him a few minutes ago, on foot going the other way. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, his lower jaw working away at a piece of gum. By the time I step out of the park, the model plane is stuck high up in a tree.
I found a Polaroid camera sitting on a dumpster.
Each picture is a little disappointment. The color, the washed-out faces, the anti-climactic wait for it to develop: all of those. They’re still fun though. They’re fun little disappointments.
The dark cloud is blown behind me before its rain reaches the street. Now it feels like the raindrops are falling from the sun. I walk through the sun shower for a bit and reach a dry patch of sidewalk, not touched by the rain. Then, a couple of blocks on, there’s a place where its still falling.