the construction on the science and history museum continues. i liked the paintings done by schoolkids hanging on the wall around the site. remembered when the katrina folks were staying at will rogers, and how we'd play "cissy strut" for a few of 'em when they'd come to the wreck room to play pool on wednesday nights. thought about hosea, too. and fraf (i was wearing the t-shirt brian waits made in his memory).
had some time to kill before doc's opened, so i stopped by the montgomery street cafe for breakfast. one of the waitresses asked what the symbol on the back of my shirt meant, and i told her it was a tattoo a friend of mine used to have. she said she'd known chad. "he grew up behind me. he used to terrorize the whole neighborhood." "and a lot of other places besides," i said.
the older gent at the counter offered me more space, and when one of the kitchen cats came out, he shook his hand and expressed his appreciation. "i like to sit up here to see all the action," he said. "they're always busy, and always good." i finished my two scrambled with bacon, hash browns, biscuits 'n' gravy, coffee and water, and shook his hand when i left.
doc's already had a few customers by the time i made it there. some girl had a blowout on montgomery and plowed into a pickup that was parked in front of the store. i didn't even hear it happen. (john lee hooker and manu dibango were on the box while i was there.) she was shaken but not hurt. there was a cop on the scene by the time i left. i got the double a&m best of the move and a clean village green preservation society that i hadn't expected to find. just part of the fun of crate-digging.
on the way home, i remembered how the other night, when i was on my way to the bull & bush to have drinkie-talkie with terry, i saw jeff ferrell and his wife sitting on lawnchairs in their yard reading their paper, their dogs sprawled in the grass around them. i dig our neighborhood.