Cannabis report: 18mg CBD/4.5mg THC taken between 7:30 and 9pm had little effect. Perhaps a bit of dizziness when settling into bed. No other noticeable effects. Well, perhaps I had fewer wakings in the night. I think I’m done with these experiments.
Tuesday, 5/28/2019
Started the day with a walk to the YMCA. Then was faced with a blank calendar, for which I’m not well prepared. Put in an hour on Zooniverse, which is my #3 volunteer activity after CHM and FOPAL. Put in a couple of hours playing my space game. Did some reading.
Chuck sent the estimate for the appraisal, which I OK’d; and also a the counter-offer document for my e-signature. So that’s been presented. Tomorrow, or anyway this week, we will know if the house is sold. I don’t plan to go any lower than the counter.
Walked down to Philz Coffee out of boredom. Now looking at whether to go over to CH for supper, or just veg. out here. I don’t like blank calendar days.
Then Chuck called; he needs a couple of signatures to complete the counter-offer. I drive to his office and sign several bits of paper. Then, since I’m out in the car and it’s 5:30, I drive on over to CH for supper.
Cannabis report: 15mg/15mg did give me a slight buzz, a little hint of vertigo when moving or turning over, and that persisted until the small hours. I did not sleep any better. The only real effect of the THC was to increase the effect that I remarked on three days back: on the edge of sleep, I was treated to a wild show of abstract art on the inside of my closed eyelids. For several minutes — maybe? maybe only a minute or two, but long enough to think, “very pretty, but I’m not sleeping, go to sleep”) — was looking at fields of intricate patterns, or figures like claymation animation, in rich colors. The one definite difference that THC makes.
In the morning I had a dull headache and felt foggy for a while. A hangover? Or just coincidence, I can’t say. But definitely, THC intoxication is not worth pursuing for its own sake.
Monday, 5/27/2019
A day with no scheduled activities on the google calendar. I’ll have to meet with Chuck at some point and make up my mind as to whether to counter-offer the Lawyer Lady. I start the day by jogging a different route, down Oregon Expressway and over the pedestrian bridge to the SFCU office by the golf course, where I can deposit a benefits check. Yes, Via benefits is still sending paper checks even after multiple attempts to set up direct deposit on their website, and a call to customer support which got me a paper form to return, which I did. For some things they do electronic transfer, for others they don’t. I’m giving up on them.
Then I went to FOPAL where there were seven boxes of books piled up by the Computer section. I culled them and priced the better ones. This turned up three that were “high value”, books that have online prices of more than $25. That’s always fun. They go in a special cart to be dealt with by the volunteers who sell the high-value ones on eBay. I ended up with about 35 books worth reselling, and priced and shelved them. Then I spent another 90 minutes doing sorting.
I picked up a few food items at the grocery store nearby and brought them home. Chuck stopped by a bit after three and we discussed what to do next. He’d had no new calls despite the ad running over the weekend. He says that a year ago, such an ad would have produced several calls. I want to get the sale done with, so we agreed he would present the counter-offer we discussed on Friday, tomorrow. Hopefully they will react favorably and we will be on the way.
I’m not quite sure what experiment to make next with cannabis. Two gel-caps, 20mg CBD, didn’t have a soporific effect. I am not interested in upping the THC. The only thing that might have made me sleep better was the time I took two of the gummies. That was 12mg CBD and 3mg THC. I think tonight I’ll take three gummies, 18mg/4.5mg. That should be comparable to the two gel-cap dose, and do nothing, but maybe there is something about the gummy formulation that is different.
Cannabis report: taking 10mg/10mg had little, if any, effect. I woke up a couple of times around midnight and two AM, and both times noticed something possibly THC-related. As I’m falling asleep, I often “see” abstract patterns of light or color, which are entertaining and fun to notice. This night, I noticed that I was seeing unusually varied and detailed images, like a crazy slide-show of abstract art. I don’t recall now any of the images, only that they had a different quality, more varied and more detailed, than my normal falling-asleep experience. Could have been the THC — except that this was 3 and 4 hours after consumption.
Friday, 5/24/2019
Shortly after waking realized that it is just over a week to the six-month anniversary of Marian’s death. Which is significant in that, absent any firm offer on the house, I need an appraisal done to establish its value. I had discussed this with Chuck last week, and he assured me he knew an appraiser who would do a good job on short notice. At that time we were expecting a possible offer from Lawyer Lady so left it to “next week”. Well, I realized this morning, it’s the last day of “next week”, and there’s a holiday next week.
So I texted Chuck at 7am to initiate the appraisal today if possible. He replied OK, but later I learned that an appraiser can be instructed to come up with a value “as of” a particular time. In this case, the appraiser will be instructed to state the value “as of” Marian’s death. Quite possibly that will be a higher value than the house will sell for in today’s market, with the result I might actually have a loss for income tax purposes.
Then it was off to Oakland to meet with Darlene to visit the Oakland Museum of California, or OMCA as they call themselves. The main reason was to view the photographs of Andrew Russell, who used a cumbersome wet-plate view camera to document the building of the transcontinental railway. He it was who took the iconic picture of the completion:
The pictures are amazingly detailed. They’ve taken some of the 8-inch square negatives and printed them 8 feet square and you an walk right up and count leaves on bushes.
Darlene was interested in the exhibit “Queer California: Untold Stories”, pointing to pictures of marches she and Jessea had participated in. We had lunch in the museum cafe and then I headed back, arriving home in good time for Chuck to drop by.
His main news was the official offer from the Lawyer Lady (her name is Daphne, I learned). We went over the offer, and then we penciled out a lot of numbers starting with my goal for net proceeds, adding all the fixed costs and taxes that will be charged in escrow, adding in 5% commission (2.5% to each broker). This gives my bottom-line number, and it is surprisingly close to what the other agent stressed was an absolute top-line number from Lawyer Lady. There’s a lack of clarity about whether the other agent expects to take her 2.5% commission out of escrow, or if she will be paid directly by the buyer and so not be dipping in the escrow pot. In the worst case we’re only 4% apart.
After hashing it around awhile, I want to wait and not counter until next week. This is because of a foolish hope that a better buyer might see the ad in the Daily Post and call Chuck over the weekend. If that doesn’t happen he will present a counter-offer on Tuesday.
Later I went to CH for supper. On the way through the basement from the garage I stopped at Angela’s office. She was in and could give me good news on the unit. The custom cabinets for the bathroom are in, and the top (not clear if that’s the top for the kitchenette counter or the vanity counter), and demolition should start soon. There should be no problem completing the job for the 6/15 move-in date. We talked about how she should let me know when she has scheduled the last step, which is deep-cleaning the carpets. After that I can start bringing stuff in, if there’s anything I want to move ahead of the 15th.
Cannabis report: a soft-gel containing 10mg CBD, 2.5mg THC, had no effect. An hour after taking it I might have felt just a tiny bit buzzed, about ½ glass of ale buzzed, but it could just as well have been imagination. And there was no difference in my sleep, either in duration or frequency of waking. So tonight I will try the 3:1 gummies. Each gummy contains 6mg CBD, 1.8mg THC, so I will take two, for a total of 12mg:3.6mg. That will be 20% step-up in CBD, 50% in THC. Effects to be reported tomorrow.
After my run, I decided to try giving blood again. Back on Day 66 I tried to donate blood and was turned away for low hemoglobin, 11.9. Following that I talked to my doctor, who wasn’t much concerned, and have been taking an iron supplement. For a month I took one daily; for the last few weeks only two per week. Stanford blood center has been sending out emails, critical shortage of type O (my type), so I’ll give it a try.
My hemoglobin came in at 15.9, four points higher than the last time. So I was allowed to donate.
Following that I drove to IKEA again. As noted a few days ago, I selected a bed frame there. But later, reading customer reviews on the IKEA website, there were a number of people complaining. The headboard of this “Trysil” frame has gaps between the cross-boards. People complain that their pillows slip out between the mattress and the lower cross-board. In the picture on the product page, it doesn’t look like that would happen. However, when I look at it in the store it is clear there is a gap of an inch or two between the bottom of the board and the top of the mattress. Why?
I figured it out. Some of the IKEA mattresses are 9-10 inches thick, and some are 11-12 inches thick. At the store, the Trysil frame is displayed with a “Morgedal” mattress, which by coincidence is the one that I had selected on a previous visit to the store. The Morgedal is only 10 inches thick. On today’s visit I tried other mattresses, and settled on the “Haugesund” model, which is 12 inches thick. When placed on the Trysil frame, the Haugesund mattress will be flush with the bottom of the lower board in the head.
In a bunch of texts Saturday, I agreed with Debora the sale manager that her buyer would pick up the dining table and chairs on Friday the 31st. After that time, the dining room here will be empty. I will move all the boxed furniture that I’ve collected (flat-packs of a desk, a file cabinet, a chair, a table) into the dining room. To them will be added a media console, two more chairs, and a love seat, all scheduled for delivery from West Elm in the first week of June. During that week of June I will also go to IKEA and order the bed frame and mattress to be delivered here. All to be stacked in the dining room.
Then on the 15th, the movers can just move all that into the truck first, followed by a few boxes of my possessions, art work, television and computers, for the move. I will also have scheduled a TaskRabbit contractor to come to CH that afternoon to help me assemble at least the bed, if not all the other things. Hopefully by sundown on that Saturday I will be fully moved in. We’ll see how that plan works out.
Later Chuck came by with realty news. The Woman who Works at Apple has dropped out. It’s odd; according to her realtor, the woman and her mother both love the house, but when the realtor asked them, it was the father who told her, he didn’t think the house was right for his daughter. Hmph. Butt out, dad.
The realtor for the Lawyer Lady is pretty sure she won’t go above $2.5M. That’s not enough, in my opinion and Chuck’s. Although it is not too far off my target. Chuck thinks she could afford to go higher, just wait and see.
Meanwhile he’s not getting a lot of calls from the ad. He got one call today, a buyer in Santa Clara who is looking for a fixer-upper. I suggested, and he agreed, that he’ll call her back and make the pitch that although this house is not in need of fixer-upper type maintenance and repairs, like you see on the TV shows, it definitely would benefit from, and increase in value from, serious remodeling. She can have all kinds of fun renovating the kitchen or adding a second story.
We also signed a bunch of disclosure and advisory forms. One relates to the need for smoke and CO detectors. So that’s a to-do item for me, which I can easily handle: get those installed. I have a smoke detector in the bedroom, but haven’t tested it in a long time. Its battery is probably dead. I had one in the living room and took it down, I don’t remember why. And have never had a CO detector. Well, we had a CO detector in the RV we used to have, and had to disable it because it constantly went off in the night, I guess from the CO of our breath while sleeping.
Today’s main activity is to lead a docent tour at the museum at noon. Right after breakfast I decided to follow up on something I’d noted by chance yesterday, that the
Hillbarn theater
is doing Mama Mia, which I’d never seen and should be fun. So I went to their website and tried to buy a ticket. Mostly sold out but there are seats for next Wednesday, fine. Advantage of being a widower (look on the sunny side…) I want only a single seat, and there were some scattered around in the center. Nice. Try to check out. It wants me to sign in or register. Sigh. Register. Wants name, email, address, age(!?), telephone number and of course a password.
You know what? Just sell me a ****ing ticket already! It so irked me I just closed the window and went for my run. But now, writing about it — nose biting for purpose of face spiting? — I went back and filled out their ****ing form and gave them a ****ing password. Nicely they present a menu of emails you can opt out of. Good! Opting outoutoutoutout. So.
Did my run, 37 minutes of jogjogjog and felt good (who’s old? Moi?). Showered shaved dressed in my red docent shirt and sat down to do another little chore I’ve been meaning to do: work out an equivalent to my current
jogging route
but starting at 850 Webster. Go to Google maps and map my present route. It turns out to be 2.6 miles from home to the coffee shop where I usually stop. About 2.4 miles of actual jogging; the tenth mile at the start and the last tenth I usually walk.
Then worked out a route of exactly the same length, but quite different terrain. Well, all flat like the present route, but different scenery. North on Webster street to San Francisquito Creek; follow a curving street along the creek; cross a footbridge into Menlo Park for a loop up Willow Road; cross a different footbridge back into Palo Alto (passing El Palo Alto, the town’s eponymous redwood tree), and down a back street to a coffee shop on University Avenue. Exactly 2.6 miles.
Got an email from Chuck, a slew of
realty disclosure
statements. My goodness there are a lot of different disclosure statements. Lead paint. Carbon monoxide detectors. Earthquake hazards. Some of them I couldn’t see how to fill out. Chuck had sent them as e-signature files, where you try to write your signature using the mouse. Instead I print out all eleven pages, look them over. Sign some obvious ones. Send an email back, need some guidance on these.
Then at 10:30 another email from Andrew, they have only the first of the four-page form that I’ve given them now twice. I get my copy from the pendaflex folder box and stop by their office on the way to the museum to drop it off.
I give my tour to about 15 people, get a round of applause at the end. E-chat more with
Chuck.
Of the two prospects, the Lawyer Lady’s agent has submitted an offer of $2.5M. However that was a misunderstanding. L.L. has just changed agents and the new one was not up to speed, didn’t realize that the latest ad had specified an asking price of $2.9. When Chuck pointed this out, she said she would consult with her client but didn’t know how much higher she could go.
As to the other prospect, the woman who works at Apple, Chuck has not heard back despite leaving several texts and a voice mail to the agent. That agent is a long-time Palo Alto realtor and Chuck thinks it is unusual for her not to respond. However during the showing the other day, she had commented to Chuck about planning a knee replacement operation soon, so possibly there is some health issue. Anyway, we left it that Chuck and I would meet Monday afternoon to talk about the disclosure forms, and hopefully one or both agents would have come back with something by then.
In the evening I combined an errand with supper. Earlier in the day, the
Prius
had popped up a message “Key Fob Battery Low”. Oh! Now, how do I open up the Prius key fob? I’m pretty sure I’ve done it before but don’t remember how. Youtube to the rescue; just click in the search bar and start to type “Prius key…” and “…fob battery replacement” pops up, and there are a dozen videos.
Turns out it is stupidly simple; Toyota did a great job on this design. The key fob contains a physical key that pops out when you press a button. I knew about that and actually used the physical key once when the 12V battery went flat. Turns out, they designed the key blade itself as a tool that exactly fits a slot at the bottom of the plastic fob. You pull the key out, turn it around, and use it as a lever to pop open the case of the fob. And there’s the battery. Nice!
I noted the number and went to Midtown where I bought a pair of the CR1632s and had supper at the Thai restaurant.
I have Deborah coming with someone to look at the furniture at 1:30, and Chuck is bringing the Lawyer Lady for her third look at the house at 12:30. That means I won’t be free to do my usual 2-4pm shift at FOPAL, so I decided to go and do that this morning instead. From 9-12 at FOPAL is the physical equivalent of a run, right? Wait, let me check. No, only 3700 steps as of 2pm. But it doesn’t record how many boxes of books I lifted and carried, does it.
I had meant to do a lot of sorting but discovered in fact there was a large collection of computer-related books already sorted, to be culled and priced. Actually, I recognized them. At least two weeks ago a chap presented himself at the usual donation time with a slew of small boxes of books. We loaned him our dolly to bring them from his car, and I remember showing him a narrow gap in the mountain of donations to stack them in. Only now, in the week past the sale, have they surfaced.
On examination, these were the library of a programmer who is now (I presume) retiring; anyway clearing out his collection. Maybe 200 fat paperback volumes on Java, JavaBeans, C++ and similar software platforms. Most published in 1998 through about 2008. Generally the older stuff goes straight to the bargain room. Nobody wants to buy, for example, a book whose cover proudly says “Current for Java 6” when a quick check on my iPhone shows me that Java is now at release 12, and support for release 9 was just discontinued.
Anyway I priced 50 or so volumes and ended up shelving 40 of them. Four boxes of books went on the cart labeled “H2”, the number of the bargain room, where they’ll sell for $1 or if not, eventually be recycled.
That brought me to 11am, and I did regular sorting for an hour more. I went around to the adjacent grocery store and stocked up on food so I would have something to eat in the evening. (But also told myself sternly, that I’ve paid for meal service at CH, and it is hardly any more distant than the restaurant I went to last night. If I don’t want to cook, I can just drive over there and have a nice nutritionally balanced meal.)
While eating a very tasty deli sandwich in the car I exchanged texts with Chuck. The Lawyer Lady had showed up with a contractor in tow, which surprised Chuck. She apparently wanted to get an opinion, either on the condition of the house or on the feasibility of some remodeling she has in mind. Was it OK with me to let a contractor look around? Yeah, why not. Nothing to hide. Then they had questions, relayed in texts. When was the furnace and A/C installed? etc. Hell, I don’t know, this century I’m sure. Later Chuck said they worked out from the maintenance record on the front of the furnace it was 2008. Apparently the contractor didn’t raise any red flags. We’ll hear more soon, I hope.
At 2pm Deb rolled up with Ron and Carol, a senior couple, in tow. They looked briskly at the furniture. Carol didn’t seem impressed. I don’t think it was what she wanted. I said goodby to them as my phone rang. It was Mr. Lunardi from the moving company. We agreed that his crew will show up at 10:30 on the 15th (ooh, exactly a month from today) to pack me up and move me. Actually there will not be a lot of packing-up. I’m betting they’ll have the truck loaded ready to roll by 12:00.
…and WordPress has lost me another 200 words. If you start a post, write a few nice paragraphs, then leave the window open for a few hours, when you come back and start editing it will say “error trying to save” and whatever you do, your draft is toast.
Well, what I said before was, in my email this morning was a warning from
Adobe
that my Creative Cloud subscription would soon renew. I’ve been paying for the privilege of using Photoshop and Lightroom, but with the end of slide scanning there is little need for either. I’ve got Pixelmator and GraphicConverter which are each capable image editors. I do make use of Adobe Bridge to organize images and search using metadata tags, but I think I have an older version that will still work without an annual rental. Or I can get used to iPhoto if I have to.
So I killed the subscription, and incidentally discovered that I also had a subscription to their web page editor, DreamWeaver. That must be a relic of when Marian used an earlier version of DreamWeaver for the FBC fan site. Anyway, killed that too.
Then walked to the YMCA for a few exercises, and back. At this point I got out the CH handbook, “Moving” page, and called the top name in their list of approved movers. Left my name for a callback. Then I waited (and waited) for Suli the housecleaner to appear. She didn’t come until 1pm; I filled the time in part by starting the laundry. And exchanging texts with Chuck: the Lawyer Lady wants to look at the house again, is 12:30 tomorrow OK? Oh heck yes.
Suli did her work, we chatted, and basically said goodby to each other. She’s been working for us for at least 20 years. She was pleased that just yesterday she had found a perfect new client to take the place of her bi-weekly visit to this house. I gave her the check, saying it was a little bit bigger than usual; she said thank you without actually looking at it. It was actually quite a bit bigger than usual.
Now it was too late in the day to go down to FOPAL, where I have been meaning to go today, to try to tackle some of the huge backlog of contributed books to sort. What else to do? Well, there was the matter of a
bed.
I’ve been going back and forth on the question of the bed for months now. First I was going to leave the Queen bed behind, get a new Full size one. Then I changed my mind, I’d keep the bed. But more recently I have flip-flopped again. It really feels stupid and annoying to be sleeping in one-half of a bed. Almost all my furniture in the new place will be new. The old bed would dominate the new bedroom. I want a cleaner break with the past.
On a previous visit to IKEA I selected the mattress I would buy; I have an iPhone picture of the label. But I didn’t actually pick a frame. So now I decided to go do that. I drove over to IKEA and went backwards on their route because I remembered that the bedroom stuff was last in the winding trail.
Of their frames, one jumped out at me right away as a perfect complement to the rest of my “midcentury modern” choices, the Trysil. It’s not expensive, it’s in stock. All I have to do is figure out how to get it, and the mattress, over to CH and assembled. I believe when the time comes, like a couple of days before official move-in, I’ll hire a TaskRabbit to do it.
I went home, and shortly noticed I was hungry, so went out, aiming for Armadillo Willy’s but as I approached it I noticed a restaurant I hadn’t eaten at in donkey’s years, Estrellita’s Mexican restaurant. We IBMers used to eat there back in the … eighties? So I went in, had a nice plate of Chile Verde.
While I was eating, the moving guy returned my call, but his news was that the CH resident notebook is out of date. The moving company he worked for closed up shop a year ago. He was friendly about it. But dang, now I have to find another.
On the way home I stopped for gas, noting it had been almost exactly a month since I last filled the tank. 80mpg, 791 miles on a tank; let’s hear it for the plug-in hybrid.
Watered the plants, then went for a run. On return I opened the big envelope of documents from the Lawyer, and brought the
fireproof box
out to the table.
The fireproof box was a purchase of a decade ago, when we were separating ourselves from Wells Fargo. This was actually before Wells Fargo got in so much public scandal; they just did a few things that annoyed us, and we moved our money to SFCU. That has worked out very well, the local Credit Union gives excellent service, and their web interface is very usable. But besides our money account at WFB we also had a safety deposit box. What to do with the birth certificates, car pink slips, etc. from there?
Turns out, you can buy a heavy box that will resist a house fire for 40 minutes or more. It probably couldn’t survive the kind of ashes-to-the-foundation fire we’ve seen in the major California wildfires, but it could stand up a typical single house fire where the fire department can give it its full attention. (It should certainly survive any kind of fire that might start at CH, a cement building with sprinklers.) We got one and gave up the WFB box.
The main tenant in the box is the Brown Binder, the binder of estate documents: the Trust, the Living Will, Power of Attorney, Burial instructions — basically, everything my successor Trustee needs to take care of me if I’m completely incapacitated, or to wind things up after I’m dead. Previously, these were all about Marian and me as a couple, with each of us naming the other as heir, conservator, etc. Now they have all been redone simpler to handle just my affairs as Survivor Trustee.
I went through the Brown Binder and replaced all the old docs with new ones. There were a couple of informal docs I write. One is the Document Locator, which explains all the others as well as listing things like credit cards and bank accounts and so on — key facts the Successor Trustee needs. Another is my Digital Directive, listing all the online accounts and passwords to be shut down. Both were much out of date and I spent an hour editing them and printing them and putting them in the binder.
Finally I went through all the contents of the box, moved a couple of things out; Marian’s birth certificate for example went to the Marian History folder elsewhere. And put it all away with a sense of accomplishment. I also paid the
utility bill
but was brought up short when looking at it, because there was a $36 balance still due, and a $0.70 late fee. What? Simple explanation: the prior bill was for $284, but when entering it in the bill-pay app, I apparently keyed in $248. Hmmph.
Anyway, off for FOPAL, where I spent two hours culling the Computer shelf. Sent books that had been there three or more months to the bargain room; lowered the price on some that had been there two months; moved some sub-sections around. Then went to help with sorting as a flood of donations were coming in the door. I could only do an hour because I got a text from
Chuck.
We were to meet at 4, but he asked if I could come earlier. Sure, no prob. I drove over to his office near California avenue. He had some news from the two showings yesterday but nothing firm yet. The Canadian Lawyer lady has been shopping, it seems, since 2016, and greatly regrets having missed out on some small cottage on Webster street nearby. Chuck knew that house and said mine is much better. Also the C.L.L. had brought her daughter and also a friend who is a decorator. This decorator friend, Chuck says, went on at length about how handsome the house is. She was still verbally pointing out its highlights when the next party arrived at 5:30, and Chuck says he was delighted because “she couldn’t have given a better sales pitch” for that party.
The second party is a single woman, 30-something Chuck estimated, who works at Apple. She came with her realtor and her mother, who is apparently ready to finance, or help finance, a purchase. They also went on at length about how charming the house is.
So the odds seem good that we should get an offer or even two this week.
I also talked to him about the IRS Form 706 that the Lawyer and the Advisors want me to file. The point of it is to preserve half of Marian’s Estate Tax Exemption so I, or more properly my heirs, can use it to shelter more of my estate. The tax accountants have quoted $3500 to prepare this form and I kind of choked on it. But with Chuck we penciled some numbers, trying to forecast what my estate will be if I live another 20 years. Would it be big enough to exceed my own exemption? Yeah, under some assumptions, as much as a third of it could be exposed to Estate Tax, which would represent a considerable tax bite on the final value of the Trust.
Home for a very casual supper (I’m getting pretty lazy about feeding myself) and some TV.
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.
Nice Jewish Girl
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.
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.
Codgerville 