301.Rambling, mostly

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Dentist

Just had my second and last cleaning at the world’s worst run dental office. Originally my appointment was a month ago, but the dentist was ill, or something, so no one was there and no one ever responded to phone calls. A week later I dropped by and found the dentist returned and scheduled an apt for today -- only she says it was for last Thursday -- and since all I have is the note I wrote, we will never know if I simply misunderstood her (she has a strong accent) or if she confused it. In any case, she fitted me in and I’m fine for the next six to eight months. 

My usual dentist, the one who did my expensive crown, has a wonderfully run operation, so she only does exams and actual dental work. She delegates the routine cleanings. My dentist for this year does the cleanings herself in this stunning office on the eleventh floor of SF’s premier medical building -- the one I can see out my kitchen window. None of this makes any sense to me.

Something else that perhaps does make sense to me, is that neither this dentist nor my usual hygienists have much praise for my teeth and gums. Over the years I have improved and improved my dental self-care until my gums and teeth are as problem free as one could wish -- though this dentist did mention I could do something about my tea related yellowing. Fine. I’m adding that to my list. But that’s neither here nor there when it comes to the health of my mouth, or the profits of the dentists. I conclude that they are not actually that pleased to see that I’ve done everything that’s been suggested, so that professional intervention is not required. She didn’t even bring up the usual X-ray topic. Since I think trouble free teeth are not all that common, you would think a grudging, “congratulations, there’s really nothing much here for me to do” wouldn’t kill them. If they ever start giving me pamphlets on the alleged dangers of fluoride use, I will know what to think.

Dream

It’s a huge, multi-floor bookstore. But getting from floor to floor is nearly impossible because there are a variety of options but they are all like rides and take time or are physically challenging.

There are also holographic “characters” that are always roaming the aisles. Authors or characters from books. Animals too. And they can interact with each other -- not sure if you can ask them questions, probably not. I had dream deja vu with this place. But this time it occurred to me to wonder how creepy it must be for the staff when there are no customers, only holograms in the store.

Oddly, this dream started with me at a laundromat that had suddenly decided to not provide dryers anymore. There was a bit in between that I can’t even explain. And the transition to the bookstore is equally inexplicable.

The last time I was in Moe’s bookstore in Berkeley I did have a problem navigating their, not that big but multilevel store, because the floors are not as all accessible from one staircase, as you would expect.

The Bank Cafe 2.0

I learned today [actually some time ago now. I've been sitting on this.] that they are planning a major remodel of my Bank Cafe. The sidewalk outside is already boarded off. Apparently this will happen in sections with the Peet’s remaining open until almost the end, when that part of the space is transformed. According to my informant, behind the Peet’s counter, the mezzanine will be extended -- currently it is only about 30% the size of the ground floor. That will involve heavy steel structural work, so this isn’t just tarting up the decor.

I’m surprised the new bank is willing to invest so much in this odd idea of the previous ownership. These “third space” places are a swell idea but I can’t imagine how they make any economic sense. 

In the past week or two the bean bags -- which used to furnish the stadium seating area -- have disappeared. I assumed this was because “undesirables” were frequenting them, but perhaps it was just in anticipation of the coming construction. There is a semi-permanent indigent in residence here. She mostly just sits in the same spot near the door, with her bags, and looks into space. Occasionally, if I’m sitting close enough, I’m aware of her talking to herself, but mostly people don’t sit that close -- unless they have head colds or there’s nowhere else to sit. There is also full time security here now, which didn’t use to be the case.


Today's addition
I'm deep into blogging The Magic Mountain now, which requires room for book and computer and, if I'm at it long enough, access to an electrical outlet. All things I can find here at the Bank Cafe. 

That last sentence above "Today's addition" is interesting, the "didn't use/used to be" part. Normally I judge these questions by ear, the way I judge when "an" or "a" should preceded a vowel -- the rule is not always a good guide. "Used" sounds a shade better to me, in this case, but I looked it up and saw that "use" is preferred. If I hadn't already written this paragraph, I think I would have probably altered the sentence, before publishing, to "There is also full time security here now, which wasn't always the case."

I'm finding the dialectical nature of the juicy parts of TMM particularly hard to blog. I'm not trying to capture one set of ideas but two, or perhaps three. Our two professors are making their respective points but also trying to score off each other. They say things in the heat of argument that they might not entirely mean. And then I have to keep in mind what kind of game Mann is playing.

This is a wonderful review of Western thought on subjects of the ultimate importance, but Mann is also saying something about Europe in the first decade of the 20th century. But is he also saying something about Europe in the third decade of that century? At times I think he must be. How could you be writing this in Weimar Germany (and not Goethe's Weimar Germany) and not incorporate what you see happening around you? It's all more obvious in Doctor Faustus, when he was safely writing in Pacific Palisades.

Yesterday the official high temperature for SF was 84F. I don't recall the temperature exceeding 80 at any other time this summer, and tomorrow is the equinox. I'm still hoping for, counting on, an Indian Summer, but it looks like yesterday was our regular summer. And I didn't seize that day. I went to the gym in the morning and ran an errand in the afternoon. I was over dressed because I've given up listening to the weather forecasts since all we've gotten this summer has been sweater weather. I should have gone to the park. Or something. I will try to seize the next warm day. 

Planning is well under way for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, coming up in about two weeks now. I'm all signed up for my usual shifts. I've floated a revolutionary new idea for getting all the heavy glass bottles off the fields -- don't really expect anything to come of it for this year, but wanted to get the process started. (Also, that part of our process takes place after i go home for the day, so this won't affect me directly.) 

My boss made the sound decision of passing on greening Fleet Week, which, once again, falls on the same weekend. That means the team we used for Fleet Week last year will cover the night operations while our regular crew will cover the days. If it weren't for the fact we've lost so many of our regular people, this could mean we might really get ahead of things during the event, leaving less to do after -- usually there's a crew sorting what's left over for several days after the end of the concert. But that isn't true of the trash from my area, which is almost all sorted by the time I leave. If we can manage to do the same everywhere, we could be finished at the end of the concert, as with most other events. 

That isn't entirely possible, because some trash will continue to be generated (or collected from the grounds) as the concert facilities are taken down. But that's minimal and manageable. I'm told it was much better on Monday last year than in previous years. It would be easier to build on that if we had the same people working the fields during the day.

Not sure what it says about me that HSB is the high point of my year -- and I don't mean the music. The most frustrating thing (so far) is that the two new acts I was excited to see were going to performing this year are both at stages in the most distant other meadow. I can't even recall the last time I was in Lindley Meadow. Usually the acts I like are at the stage in Marx Meadow -- and I could in theory slip over there to listen for a few minutes (would never actually happen) -- but Lindley is a decent hike. My only hope is that Chris Thile and/or Ani DiFranco will join someone else on the Banjo Stage. And that I will be where I can hear that stage at the time.

More likely I will be behind the food vendors struggling with the urge to kill them.

Speaking of an urge to kill... Last week, when I did my laundry, I noticed the dryer was making a loud, bad belt, sort of noise when it started up. No one reported this to me. I called and it was repaired just short of a week later, when I next needed the dryer. Then, the very next day, I noticed the ceiling light at the top of the stairs was out. Again, no one reported this and I only noticed because I was watering the poor plant on the 2nd floor. I could easily have gone a week or longer without noticing that light was out. How hard is it to leave a note on my door?

I briefly considered replacing that ceiling fixture with an LED alternative (why does "an" sound better there?), since it is actually above the stairs and the hardest fixture to get to. And according to my notes, the fixture is thirteen years old. But replacing the fixture is a two person job -- me to do the work and someone else to record my last words if I fall off the ladder and down the stairs -- and my local (and otherwise well stocked) hardware store still doesn't carry that kind of fixture. I would have had to order it online. 

Okay, this is why writing (rambling aimlessly) is actually useful. It occurs to me as I type this, that while a fixture with an LED "lamp" that can't be replaced, as is the norm in the kind of fixtures I have in mind, will last longer than the florescent ring tube in our current fixture, the fixture itself will not last nearly as long. An LED fixture might last thirteen years -- depending on the number of hours per day it is on -- but our current fixture will probably last much longer. And replacing the tube is not really that hard -- compared with replacing the fixture. I just saved myself a nasty piece of work.

This just in: My boss took the Fleet Week gig, too. So it's going to be the usual shit-show.

Gumps

There must be a name for this, but I don’t know what it is, and maybe I don’t want to hear it. I’ve never purchased anything at Gumps or Shrieve & Company or Britex Fabrics, I’ve never even browsed the jewelry store, but these are some of the few remaining grand San Francisco retail names and I was pleased to see them all clustered, as of this year I believe, at the same end of this block of Post Street as the Bank Cafe. But now Gumps has announced bankruptcy and is having an “everything must go” sale. It’s not even like I’m going to score a bargain at the sale -- there’s nothing there I need or want (or have room for). 

This means another grand old SF name is gone and it will be another vacancy on the block, just when it was close to being fully occupied. “Sad,” as the Orange abomination would say. What I will miss most is the wonderful fragrance that has always blown out their front doors. Not sure if it was something they added to the HVAC or simple the scent of various very expensive things, but it has been something I’ve looked forward to for years now on our increasingly malodorous streets. I do think about it every time Murasaki writes about how great Genji smells.