Bookshop

A sign in a bookshop window reads, "Our $10 table: Forever changing. Eerily the same!" (1.VI.16)

Fire?

Tonight (Thursday, 5.V.16), as I was waiting for a 5 outbound at McAllister and Gough, numerous fire trucks, an ambulance and other equipment appeared from all directions, very noisily, with sirens and flashing lights. One vehicle pulled up beside me. A fireman leaned out his window and asked, "Did you call anything in?" No, I indicated, with a shake of my head. "You haven't smelled smoke or anything?" he asked plaintively. Again, no. Men from one truck raised a ladder to a window, while others hung about, axes at the ready. Alas, my bus arrived, threading its way among the trucks, before I could learn the outcome of the excitement, but it appeared that all would be well.

Mansfield Park

Tonight (Wednesday, 4.V.16)) I took myself to the Conservatory to see Jonathan Dove's opera 'Mansfield Park,' a charming, ingenious, and delightful presentation of the Jane Austen story. The players included a little terrier, who was as well-rehearsed as anyone in the cast.

Crowdsourcing

A homeless beggar outside Castro Station had a sign which read, "I'm not panhandling! I'm crowdsourcing!" (2.V.16)

Oscar de la Renta

This afternoon (29.IV.16), I took myself and a friend to the deYoung Museum, to look at some permanent galleries (especially paintings of the Hudson River School) and the Oscar de la Renta exhibition, a not uninteresting presentation of ball gowns and whatnot. Out of the very numerous crowd at the exhibition, an old lady whom I did not know emerged before me and said, very enthusiastically, "Aren't you just thrilled to bits by all this?" "Totally!" I replied.

Origami

On a 38 bus yesterday (18.IV.16), a young man made several small origami birds, peace cranes, from cigarette papers. He left them lined up along a window.

On the train

The other day (14.IV.16), on the train to Santa Barbara, a teen boy took the seat beside me. After introductory remarks, we discussed the ingredients in a can of soda a previous passenger had left behind. Said the boy, "My mom says, 'If you can't pronounce it, don't eat it!'"

The Fairy Queen

After lunch at Arlequin on Hayes (13.III.16), I took myself to the Conservatory to hear a concert version of Henry Purcell's 'The Fairy Queen'. The conductor announced that the work is "a lot of silliness" and urged us to behave accordingly. But we were a restrained, polite opera crowd, applauding some singers somewhat more than others, not too loudly cheering our favorites, but still managing to bring the conductor back for three curtain calls. A good time was had by all.

Organ Recital

At lunch a few days ago (28.II.16), an old friend and I talked about our health situations and histories in some detail. This conversation type is known, according to my friend, as "the organ recital!"

Dorian Gray

This evening (26.I.16), the marquee of the Castro cinema informed me that 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' was playing. Alas, I had arrived far too late to see the film. But it put me in happy recollection of a question someone asked me once, when she refused to believe that I had reached the age I claimed to be --- "Are you sure you don't have a portrait in an attic somewhere?"

Love

Yesterday (25.I.16) I passed the Mechanics' Monument downtown, a 19th century sculpture in heroic style, portraying naked male figures struggling to operate a disproportionately large metal punch press. On this strange work, someone had hung a sign on which were painted the words, "Love is awesome!"

Dunce

A Christmas gift: M B Ingham's book 'Scotus for Dunces. An Introduction to the Subtle Doctor' (thanx, JH). For years, I've avoided 'For Dummies' books on the supposition that I'm not a dummy. But now, reality confronts me with John Duns Scotus, whom I read a little in my student days, and whom I know less about today. What I learned over lunch: Scotus is named for Duns, the town in Scotland where he was born. His name became a term of disapproval - 'dunce' - in later centuries. His writing was (is?) apparently too subtle for many people.

Navels

My local greengrocer remarked that the oranges I purchased this afternoon were "heirloom navels!" They must be; it says so on the black-and-gold sticky label. "You'll like them!" he said. I'll try one later.

Memorial

Recently I walked down Castro, from 17th Street to 18th and a little beyond. People had chalked hundreds of names, in many hues and designs, along the sidewalks, as remembrances of loved ones dead of AIDS. A poignant and original memorial. Today's rain washed most of them away --- a reminder, if I may risk sentimentality, of how fleeting life and memory really are.

Support

A T-shirt bore a slogan which read, "Support your local medical examiner --- die strangely!"

Logic

Recently, I overheard on a bus a  young woman explaining to another that she is learning Mandarin because her boyfriend insults her in Japanese and affects not to understand her replies in Spanish.

Devotion

I went to the Legion of Honor recently, to see the Berthouville Treasure, which is stunning in its magnificence. I found the votive pieces poignant; some were household objects not originally made for temple use, with dedications to Mercury inscribed on them. Did the owner of nine of them, the most splendid, Quintus Domitius Tutus, who was devoted to the god, inscribe them himself? (Unlikely; a craftsman would have done the work.) One would like to know the background to the vows he was fulfilling.

Perfection

A message in a fortune cookie assures me that I will "soon achieve perfection!"

Self-diagnosis

Outside a shop on Upper Market, a sign reads, "May your scary internet self-diagnosis be waaaaaay off!"

Haydn & Malipiero

Another evening at the Conservatory, this time to hear Haydn's String Quartet 53, GF Malipiero's String Quartet 1, and a trio of M Duruflé, opus 3, each played by a different ensemble. If the players in the Haydn were out of their teens, I would be surprised, but they played splendidly. The Thalea Quartet played the Malipiero, a fascinating piece based on two contrasting forms of Italian poetry, one apparently a rustic form, and the other more sophisticated. The rural character of the first came through strongly. It put me in mind of the Menuettto movement in the Haydn, which sounded rather like a country dance. I recalled something that one of my college teachers had said: "Never forget that Haydn was basically a Croatian peasant!" --- this to encourage a student quartet to play Haydn with more 'country' and less mannered elegance. The Malipiero had lots of 'country', and elegance too. I studied him in school, but heard very little of his music. This long piece was a real joy to hear. The Duruflé trio, for flute, viola, and piano, was a joy also, and too short! All in all, a very engaging evening.