Day 161, disassembly, market, art

Sunday, 5/12/2019

I managed to sleep almost to 7am (and without getting up in the night, either). Yay me. Did the NYT puzzle and wrote yesterday’s blog post. As a result when I got to the coffee shop the almond croissants were just out of the oven, and that’s a good start to the day.

My plans for today were, first, to attend the Sunday Assembly, and then in the afternoon to drive to the City to look at the current exhibition at the Palace of the Legion of Honor. I figure to time that so I get back to Palo Alto around five, and find supper somewhere to kill the time until the potential buyers have cleared from the house.

Sunday Assembly is an international secular organization that sponsors Sunday morning meetings under the slogan “Live better, help often, wonder more”. They try hard to create the sense of community that is (I think) the main reason religious services exist, but without any supernatural trappings. I and Marian attended a couple of their meetings back in 2017. Marian didn’t think much of them. I attended once with Dennis, also. I haven’t been to one in at least a year, and I thought I’d try it again.

I’m afraid that Sunday Assembly is not doing well; there were fewer people in attendance than I remember from before. I don’t think they are setting up as many rows of chairs at the Masonic Hall as they used to, and there were a couple of empty rows anyway.

As usual the meeting began with group singing. The speaker today was a person who was a counselor and leader of the secular summer camp movement, Camp Quest. So the theme was “adventure” and we opened by singing summer camp songs: “There’s a hole in the bottom of the sea,” “If you’re happy and you know it,” etc. That was fun in a mild way.

Then came a strange episode that I’m still processing. This of course is all to do with me, not a reflection on Sunday Assembly. The next activity was introduced as “We always start with an ice-breaker and here’s <name I didn’t get> to lead it.” Well, I can live with an ice-breaker, at least, times I’ve attended a Mass, I could shake hands with strangers around me during the “kiss of peace” ritual. But in this case, the very enthusiastic <name I didn’t get> tried to explain this quite complicated thing in which people were to pair up and you would say your name and point to the other who would say “Yeah!” and say a sentence about yourself and point, “Oh, yeah!” and trade off — there was more to it than that, a really complicated three-stage thing.

Even as he’s explaining and demonstrating this supposedly fun ritual I am thinking (I may have actually muttered aloud) “I ain’t doing that.” I was just swept by a negative reaction, an instant “Nope” as they say on Reddit. Nope nope nope! I don’t want to do that, I won’t do it well, I’ll feel like an idiot: in just a few seconds these barely-coherent feelings came over me. Plus, I’m sitting alone in a back row, there’s nobody near me to pair up with. So I instantly apprehend that I’m not going to have a choice, somebody in the row ahead is going to come up unpaired and look back at me and I don’t want to do this but I’ll be stuck. So just as the leader is saying “OK, let’s pair up and…” I just swept up my hat from the seat beside me and strode out of the room. Out the door, to my car, and drove away.

In hindsight there’s something familiar about that instant, strong, emotional rejection of a group activity. I haven’t felt it in many decades I’m sure, but now, a couple of hours after, I think I can relate it all the way back to grade school. It’s like the awful feeling when you are required to participate in a sport that you are shit at, but have to go out on the field anyway, knowing you will only humiliate yourself. So, I guess I’m still in touch with my inner third-grader. I’m not sure that I want to be! But maybe I should start to think about how to nurture that pathetic little guy.

Driving home along El Camino from the Sunday dis-Assembly I realized that it being Sunday, the

California Avenue farmer’s market

would be on. I haven’t been to that in four or five years. Marian and I always did our week’s food shopping on Sunday, and for several years we always started at the California Avenue market. For the last few years we found it more convenient to go to DiMartini’s farm stand in Mountain View; so it’s been a while. Just for the heck of it I parked and walked the length of the market.

This Sunday market, I’m pleased to note, is thriving. Walking it made me a little sad, however, because I really have no excuse to buy. Well, today I bought a box of Medjool dates, half a pound of cherries, and a bottle of apple-pomegranate cider. These are things I can consume in my bachelor life-style. But looking ahead, living in a facility with full meal service really means having no connection to food prep at all. This isn’t a new feeling. One of my very first realizations, like within 24 hours of Marian’s death, was that I’d probably never cook a proper meal again. But this was a reminder, a cold wind blowing on the raw surface where that “shard” of the old life has fallen off.

Anyway, 2pm I headed for the city for the

Early Rubens

exhibit at the Palace of the Legion of Honor. Drove myself, it being a Sunday, rather than using the train and Lyft. Took a few pictures.

In an early “Annunciation” Rubens caters (no doubt) to the expectations of his Amsterdam audience, giving Mary a lovely head of blond curls.

This lady was I think not quite getting what she wanted. But I like my composition, the diagonal line from subject’s eyes to artist’s.

Here, the spotlights make Rodin’s “Three Shades” into six or nine.

So drove on back to Palo Alto, had a burger and a beer at The Counter, then over to Midtown for a dish of ice cream. Answering texts from Chuck all along this route, as he relayed questions from the clients. “How old is the roof” and so forth. Later he said both parties were very favorably impressed. I’ll meet him tomorrow afternoon to learn more.

Day 160, deck, tour, book sale

Saturday, 5/11/2019

Today was the originally-scheduled day for me to move into CH. Well, hopefully the new schedule of June 15th will hold. One item on my to-do list for Monday is to settle with a mover, one from the list in the CH orientation book.

But this was the day for the museum tour, the scheduling of which has been so fraught because I have not been getting any response from museum paid staff. Thanks to Steve, who took the initiative to email the 1401 docents on Thursday, it all went off very nicely. The students were to arrive at 11:30 and remarkably, most of them were there at that time. Kim and I chatted with the early arrivers about what they were actually studying: they had been lightly introduced to transistors and logic circuits, then machine design, and were currently studying the MIPS architecture. Whoa, that’s a 64-bit RISC machine, quite a step up from learning AND and NOR gates. Anyway, they knew the lingo.

I took the first group of 15 or so, while Kim waiting for the stragglers. When we finished, about 12:30, we led them into the 1401 lab where docents Jack and Bill gave them the 1401 demo, with special emphasis on what developing software was like in the 1960s. Bill remembers working for a bank when the 1401 was first installed, and writing their programs for checking and loans. (He didn’t mention having to work with the OCR check-reader, I forget its model number; must ask him about that.) Anyway the students got a good tour that meshed with their class pretty well, so that was good.

Back home to change clothes and chill for a while. I changed clothes twice, in fact. Out of my white chinos and red “Computer History Museum Docent” shirt, into work jeans. Then I put the oil on the two back stoops. It really only took half an hour to do this. They look much better, not so obviously dried out. But really, they should be sanded down and re-stained. Shameful neglect, but IOMISEP.

I changed to nicer jeans and out again to walk through the FOPAL book sale and see how it was going. Seemed well; people had as usual messed up the neat shelving of the Computer section and it looked as if some had been bought.

Home again and I got texts and then a call from Chuck. Tomorrow he will be showing the house twice, at 5:00 and 5:30. The second is the previous viewer, the Lawyer from Canada who is a single mom and this time will be bringing her daughter. The first is a realtor Chuck knows — he went out of his way to emphasize she is a long-time Palo Alto realtor who is really nice, “some realtors aren’t, but she is” — who is representing a woman who works at Apple and, he says, is the daughter of a well-to-do family. The other realtor told Chuck her client “has the means” to buy in Palo Alto. So. Good.

Day 159, FOPAL and house work

Friday, 5/10/2019

With nothing explicit on the calendar, I had a casual plan to go to FOPAL around noon to make sure the Computer section was ready for tomorrow’s sale day. But first, I started a chore that has been niggling at my mind every time I looked out the bedroom window or exited the kitchen via the back door.

A few years ago — wait a minute, let me look it up in the red book — oh no! it appears we never entered those receipts in the red binder of home repairs! Anyway, a few years ago we had a local craftsman, Alex Marshall, build nice wood steps at our back door and bedroom door. It was sometime after 2011, because I do find the receipt for the first time we used Alex, to repair and re-hang the back door, and that was 2011. So let’s say, 5 or 6 years ago, we had these very handsome steps built.

They are not varnished, but rather oiled, and Alex instructed us firmly that we had to re-oil them every year. I’ve done that job once before in the 5 or so years, and I can see looking at the wood that it needs it again. And what with showing the house, and wanting it to make a good impression, it really should be done. It’s not a clean job. The first step is to scrub the wood, getting off the accumulated dust, foot-prints, and leaf litter. It’s striking how over a rainy winter, the raindrops cause a mist of light sand to rise up and stick to the bottom 8 inches or so of wood.

So today I got out a bucket and filled it with hot water and glopped in some 409 and washed down the steps. I used a push broom so I could scrub without having to get down on hands and knees. Scrubbed down both sets of steps, rinsed them with the hose, and left them to dry. Monday I will do the oil — except oh no, I sent off the half-used can of oil with the other used cans of paint when I took two boxes of stuff to the household hazardous waste disposal on… aha, it was Day 146. Well, I know just which shelf to get it from at Orchard Supply … shit. Orchard Supply closed up last year. Amazing how often one regrets that.

Speaking of regrets: walking in and out of the garage I noticed what I had managed not to notice the last 50 times, Marian’s gardening shoes on the floor by the door. There’s nothing to do but put them in the trash. They won’t be worn again; and used shoes wouldn’t sell in the estate sale. Either I throw them away, or Deborah will do it after the sale. Better me. So I put them in the trash. Then I tidied myself up and went to

FOPAL

where I went through a couple of boxes of computer related books, sending most to the bargain room, pricing and shelving a few. Also shelved a few that had been priced, apparently, by Chuck (FOPAL volunteer Chuck, not realtor Chuck).

There were a lot of volunteers around, working on their individual sections, but they were also putting tablecloths out and serving implements, and, hello, we’re having a volunteer luncheon. I had no idea. It must be a regular pre-sale event, but I didn’t know that.

I talked to a couple of other volunteers while eating a section of a turkey wrap. But before that I acquitted myself very badly, like a

complete nerd

with another volunteer. I’m so embarrassed about this in hindsight. This chatty guy intercepted me as I was working and asked if I was the new Computer section, he was a former Computer section manager, he explained, but now worked in the Bargain room, partly shelving the computer books that I was rejecting for the main room. He asked my name, I told him, he thought for a second, and said, “Inside CP/M?” The title of my first book. He said he’d played around with old CP/M in the 80s and remembered my book.

Here’s my failure. The guy asks my name and remembers my book, and I did thank him and express pleasure. But did I get his name in return? I fucking did not. I just wandered off and kept shelving books. I am the most self-centered, obtuse…

I’ll see him again, I’ll make a point of it, and I will apologize.

So I went on home, then later drove to CH where I turned over my keys to #621 to Angela. She had requested them, saying residents are not allowed into their units while remodeling is in progress. She said the orders for my cabinets and so forth have been placed and June 15th is still a good date for move-in. Make it in the afternoon if possible, as another new resident will move in that morning.

I wanted to ask the Housekeeping manager if they were hiring, so I could tell Suli, but she wasn’t in. Angela, who shares an office with Housekeeping, took a note. Maybe I’ll hear back.

On the way home I swung by the hardware store and bought a small can of oil for the deck.

Day 158, Shustek and music

Thursday, 5/10/2019

In the morning I wrote a check to pay for income tax preparation, addressed and stamped it. Left a few minutes early for a day at the Shustek center in order to post it. I get tense about this, did I address the envelope correctly, put a stamp on it, will it arrive? Bleagh. (No, autocorrect, I did not mean “Bleach”. Since when has aggressive auto-correct been a thing? Here at WordPress, on Reddit, everywhere, it seems you can’t be cute any more without idiot computer telling you what it thinks you really meant.)

Cataloged a lot of stuff, most interesting being a collection of chips and a an actual lithographic mask (a beautiful thing, elegant pattern on a thick piece of glass) for the first Berkeley RISC chips. This grab bag of stuff was donated by David Patterson, who (according to that Wikipedia link) “coined the term RISC”. It was like old home week, it seemed, because another volunteer, Alan, still works for a company founded by Patterson’s student and co-author, and has met Patterson often.

Well, we have a message for Patterson; he’s been sitting on a CHM artifact for (presumably) years. In the donated collection of chips was one that had an old-style CHM accession number on the back, and was marked “ENIAC chip #3”. A quick check of our database, and yes: there it was, with a photograph and description matching this chip; its last known location a rack at Moffat Field. So sometime 15 years ago or so, when the CHM collection was mostly held in a warehouse at Moffat Field, this chip — one of a very small run of a student project to reproduce the WWII-era ENIAC machine as a VLSI design — was removed from the collection. It somehow made its way into the possession of D. Patterson, a highly-regarded professor at UCB. And here it was back home again!

This is what passes for excitement in the museum business.

Back home I had a simple supper and then went out again to hear a musical performance at CH. I mostly wanted to get a look and listen to the auditorium there. It’s a nice space, folding chairs for maybe 150 people, a low stage. Overhead, a large video projector and I could see where a big screen would roll down over the stage. Presumably that’s how they show movies on “classic movie night”.

The performance was by Bella Sorella, two sopranos that have been performing together since their college days. Accompanied by violin and piano, they performed light classical and some folk tunes and it was very pleasant, a highly skilled performance.

One of my interests in this was to watch how the sound system was managed. I’m thinking one way I might contribute at CH is to participate in the performance committee that runs this kind of event. The sound man, a resident, Herman, seemed kind of out of it. There were only two mikes in use (I could see several more on the sound console), one hand-held by the lady who introduced the show and one on a mike stand on stage for the performers to use introducing their songs.

Well, the mike on stage didn’t work, or its volume was set too low. There was an embarrassing moment when one of the singers went to introduce their first number, tap tap is this on? No, can’t hear you says the audience (this audience of oldsters was not at all shy about shouting “can’t hear you”). Herman just sits smiling. Performer takes mike off stand, looks at it, tries again, holds it close to lips — no amplification. Herman sits buddha-like smiling. Eventually somebody in the front row says, give her the mike Carla was using. The mike the introduction person used is handed up to the performer on stage, and it works. The dead mike is handed to Herman who accepts it with a smile, and the show proceeds.

I found this kind of baffling; Herman didn’t seem to follow what was going on at all, but he was in charge of the sound desk. Hmmm. Definitely some room for others to contribute here, but I do not want to come on too strong, or get myself responsible for a volunteer gig that is too demanding, either. Tread lightly as you enter a new situation.

Day 157, will signed, FOPAL

Wednesday, 5/8/2019

Went for a run. The sat down to do a couple of things. Changed my address with my health insurance. Then checked something because I woke up fussed about it at 4:30am. I’m developing this bad pattern of waking up around 4am and, even though I get up and pee, I don’t go back to sleep but instead fuss and fret about something. Today it was wondering if I had the documentation I needed in order to set up my T-Mobile micro-cell at CH. What?

I’ve been using T-Mobile phone service for years, but the service was always feeble around our house, two bars and sometimes only one. Last year I heard you could do this, and I went to the T-Mobile office and said, I want one of these things. They said, “sure” and gave me a box. It’s a box that acts as a local cell tower, using your internet. Once I installed it, I had four solid bars all around the house and out to the sidewalk.

But at 4am I was all fussed because I couldn’t remember how I set it up. How did it know the local wi-fi? Did I hook a laptop to it? I didn’t remember doing that. Shut up and go to sleep! So now at 11am I just go directly to the pend-a-flex folder where I stored the user manual for the device and look, and it’s a wired connection. It needs to plug in a cable to your router or modem or whatever. That’s why I didn’t remember connecting it to the wi-fi; because I didn’t have to. Just hook up its cable and that’s it.

Will that work at CH? Probably, but I will let that wait until I get there, get moved in, and can call on the local tech committee.

Next I emailed neighbors Thane and Gloria. I didn’t mention, on Monday, day 155, I had walked across the street and asked Thane if they would witness me signing my new will. (I did mention the new will on day 150.) Monday Thane said Gloria was away, but would be back Tuesday night. So now, Wednesday morning, I emailed to ask when would be convenient for this. Instead of replying, the two of them showed up at the door ten minutes later.

We chatted for a while; I told them about progress in selling the house; I signed the will and they signed as witnesses; and they left.

I put the will into the Lawyer’s prepaid envelope and took it to the actual post office to mail it. Then I continued on down to FOPAL and spent four hours sorting. It’s the days just before the biweekly sale and the sorting room is overflowing with books.

Then I bought some groceries, spending about twice what I spent the last two times. The reason is I bought a bottle of wine, a wedge of Brie, and some crackers. Why? Because on Monday, when Chuck texted that the potential buyer wanted to come back with her daughter and a friend (that hasn’t been scheduled yet; hope she hasn’t changed her mind), I texted back “great, I’ll set out cheese and crackers and wine” and a smiley-face emoji. Humor. Or not? Because Chuck texted back, “great idea”. Well… ok… So I bought some wine and cheese and crackers. Along with a pound of coffee. And my grocery supplies: a rotisserie chicken, which will supply meat for several meals, and some fruit, and a loaf of bread.

Got home at 5 planning to sit and chill. But looked at my email.

One, the invoice for taxes from the tax accountant. OK, print invoice and put on desk, will handle it tomorrow.

Two, quote from Angela at CH on my upgraded closet doors. I must sign and give back before she can order, with a 2-3 week lead-time. Print and set aside to take to CH… when?

Three, email from health insurance, two EOBs. I print them to file in the medical expense folder.

Four, email from Angela, the stainless steel sink I’m paying extra for, she only just noticed, is “tiny” at 14 inches wide. Is that ok? If not, she can look into alternatives. Why is this now an issue? I can’t get over there to look before tomorrow night. What size is the not-extra-cost sink?

Now it’s 5:30. Enjoying your time of chilling? Said “bleep it” and drove to CH to hand in the signed quote for closet doors, and to measure the existing sink. Came home and wrote to Angela about that.

I could have stayed over there to eat, but came home for a chicken leg, orange, and protein shake instead.

Day 156, showing, floor meeting

Last night I watched an episode of the New Zealand based crime show, Brokenwood Mysteries, streamed off Amazon Prime. Times past, I’ve used my Sony Blu-Ray player for this. It has the software to handle streaming video from various sources. However, its interface is really clumsy, as well as slow-responding. So this time I just streamed on the laptop. Now, I could run an HDMI cable from the laptop to the TV, and maybe another time I would. However this time I just reclined in my chair and rested the warm laptop on my tummy. Through the bottom half of my bifocals, the screen is about 25% bigger than my 48-inch TV. And the controls for pause, play, skip forward or backward, toggle subtitles (needed with NZ accents!), are all responsive and intuitive.

So the streaming experience on the laptop is at least as pleasant as that on the big screen. But somehow, leaning back with a laptop on my chest seems more self-indulgent than sitting up, watching exactly the same content, on the TV across the floor.

Tuesday, 5/7/2019

I woke up at 4am and couldn’t get back to sleep. My mind wanted to fuss about a decision I made Friday. This is about a custom museum tour. I told on Day 151 about how I’d signed up to lead a custom tour of comp. sci. students on this coming Saturday. Then I had tried to contact Katharina, the docent manager, by email and phone, to express a concern about the timing and content. She’d ghosted me. On the Thursday, at Toni’s advice, I’d left a voice mail for the museum staff member who’d booked the tour, Poppy.

Well, Friday evening, after getting no call-back from Poppy, I removed my name from the schedule for that tour. Let them find somebody else. But now, at 4am, I am regretting that decision. My not leading the tour won’t help anything and probably won’t even be noticed by Katherina or Poppy. So at 4:30am I got up, got out the laptop, and re-booked myself for the tour. Now I see that another docent, Kim, has signed up for it as well. That’s appropriate, supposing the scheduled 30 students show up. If as is typical, it’s only half that, it’ll be overkill.

Then I did sleep until 6:40. About 8:30 I walked to the YMCA gym, for the first time in weeks. Back home, I tidied the house for showing at noon. I had been storing boxes containing disassembled, new furniture in the living room. I moved them to the middle room. Then I left and sat the local coffee shop until Chuck texted at 12:40 that they were out. This client is a single mom, an attorney, and she seemed interested. Chuck says she would like to see it again with her daughter and a friend. So that sounds good.

At 4:15 I went to CH for the sixth floor meeting. I’m trying to learn a lot of names. Phil, Jean, Ruth, Marcia, Gwen. Hope a few of those stick. After supper, came home to veg. out.

Day 155, FBC and FOPAL and mixer

Monday, 5/6/2019

Started the day with a run, departing earlier than usual, 8am instead of my normal lazy 9am departure. That was so that I could get home, shower, and get back to the local coffee shop to meet with Harriet at 10am to talk about Steve’s idea for a

revived Fast Break Club.

This was an enlightening meeting. Harriet brought her friend Leslie who is a Stanford WBB alum as well as having worked in the WBB office.

We all agreed that Steve’s ideas were a complete non-starter unless there was real, enthusiastic buy-in and support from the WBB office, and Tara in particular. Leslie explained how, since the program is now completely funded from the Athletic department, there is no real concern about attendance. Steve’s strongest argument for a new fan organization is the slow decline in average attendance over the last decade, but the department and WBB coaches and staff really don’t care. Their job performance isn’t rated based on attendance. Only if we can find out what they do want, or what would help them with things that do count, like recruiting, would we get support. So job one, she thought, would be talk to the coaches and try to find out what would seem like a benefit to them.

After that, even with Office support, the problem remains of how to recruit new fans, especially younger parents with daughters. Here again Leslie knew something that I (nor I think Harriet) had known: that parents of high- and middle-school students, and the students, coaches, and teachers, all work off the school website and other social media these days. So if you can get any parent to post a fan-club event on their school’s site, that’s how to get things known.

We left it to Harriet to take these thoughts back to Bob and others in touch with Steve, and talked a little bit about Norway, where they want to tour next winter. My experience was only in the summer, and they’d read the blog, so there wasn’t much I could add, except to recommend Stockholm for a visit. Turns out Leslie has a relative in Helsinki, which is a reasonable ferry ride from Stockholm.

A bit later in the morning I found myself with

nothing to do,

and that’s a first! Almost nothing on the old to-do list. I’ve been expecting this time to come, but I thought it wouldn’t happen until I had moved in to CH. I pictured a day when I am moved in, all my furniture set up, I water the plants and then… nothing on the schedule.

That will be when I will have to start rearranging my days to apply time to three different long-term projects I’ve had on the back-burner for a year now, including two books. Well, fine, but not today. I decided to go down to

FOPAL

and make sure the Computer section was in good order. There were four boxes of books waiting. I went through them, sent ¾ on to the bargain room, and priced and shelved the rest. The section is looking quite good, if I do say so. I’ll hit it again Wednesday and Friday and it should be ready for the sale weekend. After an hour doing that, I spent another 90 minutes doing sorting, and had the sorting room almost tidy when the usual Monday volunteers showed up. So I came on home and actually played a computer game for an hour. Then I went over to CH to check the mail and for

supper,

which turned out to be a “mixer”. As you enter the dining room there’s a resident with a hat containing small numbers. If you are willing to participate you take a number, which is the number of a table. In this way you sit and eat with people you haven’t met before. I did it, although in fact I haven’t met anyone at all. But prior times I’ve eaten there, I’ve sat by myself and read a book. This time, I sat with — let me see — Carol, Julie, Betty, lady whose name I can’t pronounce, and Colin. Colin is a chatty guy with a bit of a British accent and wild bushy eyebrows. He just had a 90th birthday party last weekend; and he played tennis this morning. He said he always asked new residents some questions, I said go ahead, and asked if I play bridge (yes) but then he wanted me to play in his duplicate bridge group and I really don’t want to play duplicate. He asked if I sing, well, I can carry a tune, great, every Wednesday we have a sing-along over in the Lee Center, you must come. Do I play tennis? Sorry, no; this is where I found out he plays tennis regularly. Do I dance? Nope! I think I’m down as a poor quality recruit in his book.

And so home. Chuck messages that he has a potential buyer who wants to see the house, can I clear out around noon tomorrow? You betcha!

Day 154, Art and stuff

Sunday, 5/6/2019

Did the NYT puzzle at home in hopes of being late enough to the coffee shop to get an almond croissant, but had to settle for a cinnamon roll instead. Walked along as customary admiring the sky and thinking about being a widower, being consciously aware of being single and thus (a) free and (b) lacking a partner. The “free” part was underscored when, yesterday, I was reviewing the old Scandinavian travel blog. Its text does not mention health issues, but I remember how on that 2014 trip we were already somewhat handicapped by Marian’s lack of stamina; avoiding stairs and long walks. I swear I never felt the slightest resentment at how her declining strength limited our activities. Finding a minimum-stair route, or passing something up because it was too much walking, was just natural; we as a partnership did what we could do. But now, sometimes, I am aware of the release from those constraints, being able to climb stairs or walk up a hill without a second thought.

On the other hand, the absence of a partner shows up often. Whenever I notice some change in the neighborhood, or unusual garden item, I automatically think, must share that with… nope. That’s the the key thing about having a close partner: you validate your experiences by sharing them. Case in point: later today, driving on University Avenue, I notice a large, unusual sculpture in the front yard of a house. But there’s nobody to share this discovery with. Did I really see three, 8-foot tall crows, one perched on the garage roof? I think I did, but without anyone to tell it to, it isn’t quite real.

Did a couple of chores, including closing my YouTube channel. This is a task that has been moving from to-do list to to-do list for weeks. I have a modest channel where over the past two-plus years I’ve posted reviews of meal replacement products, Soylent, Huel, etc. Looking ahead, it just isn’t going to be practical to do this at C.H. But I feel a certain obligation to the 120 or so people who’ve subscribed to my channel. You subscribe to a channel in order to be notified when new content is posted. I won’t be posting any more, and I owe it to my tiny public to tell them so. So I recorded my 90-second farewell message and posted it. (Later in the day I got several “thanks and best wishes” comments on that video. Nice!)

Also paid a bill, and sent a form to the financial people.

About 10am I departed for Hunter’s Point in SF, for the Open Studios day. Over the next two hours I must have stepped into 75 or so studios and looked at, or at any rate glanced at, 300 images and objects. The studios are spread over several old administrative buildings for the former Naval Shipyard. I verified that I definitely prefer figurative art, although some of the abstract smooshes of color were pleasant to look at; and that I like whimsy.

I liked the work of Erik Joyner, whose thing is “robots and donuts” in every possible whimsical or satirical combination.

hair-cut-930x702 — Unlike most of his work this one lacks donuts.

I almost bought a miniature of that print but couldn’t quite bring myself to spend $30.

Joyner is just for laughs, really, but one artist whose work I really, really liked is Carol Aust. Her studio was in a basement and I might not have gone down the stairs to it, except that this huge (5-foot wide) painting was hanging in the hallway above.

eight-pelicans_30x60_0 — Carol Aust — “Eight Pelicans”

I really, really like that. To the point where the $4000 price tag does not seem impossible. After the house sells and I’m feeling flush again… and if I can find a suitable wall for a 5-foot painting… maybe…

Stopped at CH to check the mail and pick up a new garage fob (the first one quit working). Then came on home.

Day 153, Docenting

Well, that didn’t work out at all. I had planned to attend a concert at Dinkelspiel. This was an event I’d learned about from emails on the CH mailing list, promoted by a resident who is associated with the chamber group that would be performing. Fortunately (as it turned out) I didn’t buy a ticket in advance. It was only going to be $13 at the door, which seemed quite cheap compared to the $50+ for the Stanford Jazz Festival tickets I booked two weeks ago, so why not.

I left home at 7pm, and if things had worked they way they used to work, I’d have been sitting down in the hall well before start time. I got to the entrance to the nearest parking lot at 7:10. Times past, I’d have parked in a minute or so. I began circling, no space, several other cars circling. Went to the next further parking lot and circled. Now it was 7:20 and there was just nowhere to park. I knew that the next nearer parking was several blocks away; if I parked there I wouldn’t make it to the door in time to buy a ticket. Well, darn. I drove home.

I have no idea whether Friday nights are special, or maybe there were multiple things happening around that part of campus? Anyway, in July and August I will make it a point to arrive early. Or take a Lyft, one.

Saturday, 5/4/2019

Passed the morning deliberately not doing anything productive. Well, had an email from Harriet, passing on a document from Steve P, proposing a revival of the old Fast Break Club. Steve doesn’t live in the area now, but has been a SWBB fan for a long time, and for the last several years has been trying to promote a revival of the FBC. I read his document and don’t see anything new or workable, but we’ll see. Proposed meeting Harriet for coffee on Monday to talk it over.

Harriet is apparently planning a trip to Norway, and asked about my and Marian’s visit to Norway back in 2014. That prompted me to open up the old blog and I ended up reading the whole thing. A pleasant hour there.

Also had a friendly “how are you” email from neighbor Dan. Nice.

Put on my docent clothes (official red shirt, chino pants) and went to the museum. Led the 12:00 tour, about 17 people, went well. Afterward, talking to two other docents and they talked about how this is the weekend of Open Studios, when artists all around the area put up signs and invite people to stop in. Mike said that rather than driving around his neighborhood, he likes to go to Hunters Point where there are a bunch of artists in a single building. That sounds like a neat idea.

Bought a few groceries on the way home. Quiet afternoon.

Day 152, shopping, fitness, paperwork

Friday, 5/3/2019

First thing, I called Angela’s number at CH and to my surprise, got her live. Arranged for her to leave the upgrade estimates at the desk for me to sign. Then went on a a run. Then headed out on a shopping expedition.

First stop was Stanford Federal Credit Union. Back story: in April I used the SFCU website bill-pay system to pay a medical bill, $504 to Palo Alto Medical Foundation. Early in May I got a note in the PAMF messaging system asking if I’d please pay my $504 bill. So I replied that I had, $504 on 4/9. They replied, we don’t see it, but send us some proof, email to blah blah include account number, etc., and we’ll try to find it. Grump grump grump, off I go to SFCU. Nice guy opens up the account and prints off a couple pages showing indeed, $504 went out from my account to PAMF’s account on 4/9.

So later in the day I scan this and start to append it to an email to the given address when I have a thought. The SFCU bill-pay app was set up by Marian, with a menu of known recipients; for each one, an account number etc. Looking at the summary of recent payments I see that in fact that payment of 4/9 went to the recipient named “PAMF-M”.

Uh-oh.

Yup, in the menu of recipients is another named “PAMF-D”. Looking at the details, the one I paid to had Marian’s PAMF account number, not my PAMF account number.

So that led to a considerable change in the tone and content of the email to Sutter Health billing department. From “Look how wrong you are,” to “Can you straighten out my stupid goof?”

From SFCU I drove to Wegman’s Nursery, and then more or less on a whim, to another nursery on Ralston Ave. in Belmont. Neither had anything like hanging plant post I need.

Now on to Stanford shopping center, Macy’s Men’s store. I had various clothes that need upgrading or replacing. One, my Jockey shorts are wearing out, not surprising they’d have holes being at least ten years old. Easy enough to buy a dozen of those. Two, I need a couple of pairs of jeans. I tried on a bunch and finally didn’t choose any. I did confirm that despite having lost over 10 pounds in the past year, my correct size is still 36W30L exactly as it has been for ever. But I couldn’t find the right combination of color and fit, and decided to go home, check what I had, and order exact replacements online.

Three, polo shirts. My standard summer shirt is a Lands End Supima cotton polo. Sadly Land’s End isn’t selling the one of their colors that I like and looks good on me, a deep brown. Maybe I could find a nice polo shirt at Macy’s? I looked at a bunch and didn’t like any. Not even actual Polo ones, the kind with a little polo player embroidered on them. Or the ones with an alligator. No good colors and all felt crude to the hand. Back to the internet.

So I zipped home with my bundle of tighty-whiteys and quickly changed to shorts and a t-shirt and drove back to CH for my Fitness Evaluation with Clark. Clark (his last name is not Kent, despite his definite mild manner) had me do six or seven things while he timed me. How many times can I stand up and sit down again in 30 seconds, and so on. He promises in a few days a consultation and a fitness program.

Signed Angela’s forms so work can start on my unit, then back home again to start the laundry, send that email to PAMF Billing, order the wax plant poles from Amazon, order two pairs of jeans from Levi’s, order one black and one dark gray polo from Land’s End. Also waiting at home, the statement for my next six month’s of car insurance. I note that I am protected at $1M for bodily injury, but $100K for property damage. Catherine the insurance agent had suggested upping it to $1M for property damage also, but on consideration, I don’t see it. I wrote to her saying I would leave it as-is.

Throughout the day I’d been hoping for a call-back from Poppy, the tour organizer at CHM, and it never came. That’s very disappointing and I am going to take myself off that tour… done.

At 7:30 there is a concert at Dinkelspiel I want to attend. Time for a quick supper and a nap first.