Concepts in the Paradox

The moring commute: N to work, Score: 9/10! wow! Home, Score: 8/10, missing N, but a 6 was waiting for me upstairs.
The weather: Kinda cold. Hmm….

I present, how not to teach your cat how to walk on a leash:

Sicko? No health insurance? Dying on the street because of greedy HMOs? Not in San Francisco.

Healthy San Francisco opened it’s doors to the city’s poorest this month, and in January ‘08 will offer basic health care for all citizens of the city seeking treatment in the city.

Did I somehow move to Canada when I wasn’t paying attention?

(Remember folks, beta test on the poor people, then move on to everyone else.)

I am now 49.71% unpacked. The desk, TV, cabinets, and clothes are assembled and setup. All I have left is the huge bookshelf furniture wise, but I don’t know where to put it.

I have pictures, but alas, I am missing the USB cable to the camera. Why doesn’t my fancy camera have Bluetooth?!

I now have DSL. I plugged it in and off it worked without any issues. I was downgraded to 1.5/384k service because of the location relative to the central office.

I shopped the Haight and picked up some fancy smelling soap, as well as some tools at the local hardware store. This area is so small-town, I think everyone knows everyone here. I feel like an outsider.

I met another neighbor, the guy upstairs. That makes two neighbors that have said hello to me, including the cute hippie girl next door.

Tomorrow I’m going to an art show with Jill. I’m hoping to pick up some inexpensive local art to put in the front room, hall ways, kitchen, and bathrooms. I have so much wall space it’s incredible. I think this place is much larger than the pad in the TL was.

I am now 71.65% packed. 30 boxes so far, I’m not sure if that is more than last time or not, but I keep thinking that I have less stuff.

On the way home from putting food in the new apartment I walked by the Powell BofA ATMs and noted a pack of indigents trying to break into the ATMs. I kept walking, but now I hear sirens. Never a dull moment in the TL!

I am now 52.8% packed. The big challenge today was taking the sofa apart. It comes apart into 4 pieces to fit down the narrow birdcage elevator, but the guy I hired to assemble it last time did some wonky stuff. I’m not a carpenter, but does a bolt really need 8 washers? I think not, and so the sofa took most of the day to take apart.

Today it was hot, so all the SRO dwellers in the TL were laying out on the sidewalk like sausages baking in the sun. Surreal.

To battle the mid-day heat, Jason came by and we watched an air conditioned Spiderman 3 movie. If you are thinking about seeing SM3, save your money. I’ve never watched writing as horrible, or directing as bad. I know moving making is hard, but maybe hollywood should hire some people from the Academy of Art? It would be an improvement.

So far moving has been an adventure.

Friday, 10AM, Tenderloin District Police Station.

“I would like a no parking permit for Mason St.”

Officer in charge of permits: “Oh the old Olympic Hotel eh? There used to be a “massage parlor” in there if you know what I mean.”

Me, making conversation, said, “Yeah, the prostitutes used to crawl up the fire escape and go into the units downstairs.”

The permit officer replied, “Were they hot?”

My reply well, let’s just say…

TENDERLOIN PERMIT: DENIED

Friday, 5:30PM, Mason St.

“Excuse me sir,” I said to the construction forman who is doing all the work on my block, “Do you mind if I park here while I’m moving out?”

“No problem, and thanks for asking.”

BEING A NICE GUY PERMIT: APPROVED

Saturday, 3PM, Parkside district Police station.

“I would like a no parking permit for Carl St.”

Officer: “Here is the form, that will be $129 please.”

PARKSIDE PERMIT: APPROVED

I am 40% packed, the movers are arriving at 9AM on Thursday, and my PTO has been approved.

Things will move smoothly, no?

Life is a tad busy at the moment, stay tuned!

It was a late night at work, and getting home, having a beer, and slipping off into a deep sleep was all that was on my mind.

As I crossed Market and landed on the “wrong” side of 5th street, that is the Tenderloin side, a short man ran up to me and started motioning excitedly to a box wrapped in plastic bags in his hands. My normal programming is to keep walking and ignore such people, but this annoying man was insistent.

“Young man! Young man!” he said in a hurried tone.

I ignored him.

“Young man! Would you like to buy a laptop? Cheap!” he said as he was out of breath and trying to catch up with my now hurried pace.

“Would you like to buy a laptop?!” he insisted, saying over and over again. It was time to step up my efforts.

“No!” I demanded, though I thought about a cheap laptop being useful.

“I’ll sell it cheap!”

“NO!” I insisted, walking even faster. I thought about how this laptop was likely stolen and/or broken, and how buying stolen merchandise not only a crime, but cheating capitalism.

“Would you like to buy a laptop?!” he said again, as though I hadn’t heard him all this time.

“No, go away!” I yelled, tired of this game.

I hear 5th and Market is a great place to get a stolen laptop on a Friday night.

This week I have writer’s block. Enjoy this ‘professional’ grammar error in the mean time.

It’s been a strange day. I went on a walk through the alleys around work to get some fresh air. I encountered a very old Italian woman who stopped me as I was examining an old an decrepit building. She spoke to me in very broken Italian about her feelings on the homeless, the police, and the blank, lifeless alley we were both walking down.

“No good!” she said, not allowing me to talk. Not that it would have mattered, I don’t think she spoke English.

“They sit here and they smoke,” she made a puffing gesture, “cops come and they…” she then motioned as though she was hiding her imaginary smoke.

“The police…”, she paused, looked at me with indirect contempt, “No good.”

“Tourists! No good.”

“Businesses, so few, No good!”

“…they sleep here, pee everywhere,” I noted her duct taped jacket and Muni Fast pass dangling from her neck with a big ‘S’ on it, “No GOOD!”.

She wondered off, continuing her conversation with herself.

“No good”.

But on to the topic at hand: the TL. I stumbled across this blog on TL & 6th street motels. It’s a great way to burn a night if you are into urban decay. Just spectacular.