am 11:08 Friday 1 August 2003
Dreaming. I don't even have to set an alarm clock. The bill collectors
call at 9:00 am, sharp, and quarter-to-ten. I never answer it. Here's
my phone number: 1.510.525.0772. You can call it if you want.
Hmm. A friend sent me a secure E-mail from Dubai, United Arab Emirates
(It came through Ryze.com). "Dear
Mahreen," I wrote, "One of these days you'll visit San
Francisco. Come ride in my cab!"
pm 2:10, There's nothing quite as straight as railroad tracks.
It's as if the tracks are chopsticks reaching for an invisible grain
of rice on the horizon. I saw two school buses crossing the tracks
simultaneously. Neither stopped. One was traveling west on Addison,
the other east on Bancroft Way, two-tenths of a mile farther toward
the horizon. I notice these strange occurrences in life ...
what the French call La 'Pataphysique ... "as far
beyond metaphysics," says Roger Shattuck in the Evergreen
Review, May-June 1960, "as metaphysics lies beyond physics
in one direction or another," ... coming down, in this
instance, to two school buses skewered by tracks, velocity, 2:00
pm, and me.