Beat that, charming downtown coffee houses that serve expensive cafe au laits in durable glass vessels with ad-infused, corrugated cardboard sleeves.

Not that I don’t appreciate your (calculatedly) tasteful (yet appealing) ambiance, and savor your rich blends and baked goods, and breathe in (with such a smile) the Leonard Cohen that wafts over the clatter and hum of Davis’ young intellectuals and yoga moms.  Nothing finer than sitting in cafes, for sure..

..it’s just that I make a mean cuppa joe.

Here’s one now, in its favorite mug, in quiet surroundings, early on a Saturday morning.

Any guesses?

Ok, I’ll just tell you: It’s a wine glass sitting on a placemat (a placemat I bought in Kathmandu, nice?).  Further, for the wine people, it’s a 2009 Toad Hollow Pinot Noir, Goldie’s Vineyard in the Russian River Valley.

And it’s excellent.   Good job, Jim, who picks out most of the wine around here (by color and price, I believe).  Even though he doesn’t drink wine.

It’s actually the remains of last night’s glass of wine, but a sign of what’s to come in.. oh.. about 23 minutes.   (Yay Fridays.)

The highlight of this day, I must share, was sitting at Mishka’s this late, pre-fall afternoon, under an umbrella in the warm shade, with a very pleasing cafe au lait.  After weeks and weeks, I’d finally finished Louise Hillary’s book (High Time) so could at long last dive into The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen’s heavily-awarded 2001 novel.  Excited because he’s coming to Davis next month.  So, just sat there in the breezeway for an hour and read.  Heavenly or what?

What’s great is reading the first few pages of a new book and being blown away by an author’s mastery.. of words, images, and humans.  Kills me.  What was great this afternoon was how I was inspired, once again, to write.  I sat there just dying to take a crack at it myself.  Realized how rich the world is.. wherever you are.  I sat there and watched any number of dramas unfold and knew I wanted to get inside them and work them.. just for the fun of it.    I realized I need to go sit in a cafe more often (with a computer) and watch humans and observe settings and conjure stories, and how much better that will happen out in the world, and how it doesn’t happen at my desk.  Kind of random, I realize, a bit cart before the horse, not the way they might tell you to do it, but that’s what I want to do.

That was my excitement.  Makes me breathless.

Cannot wait for later to roll around so I can go to bed with my book, and breathe in all that razor sharp prose.  Love it.

But now: wine, dinner with some company..

..then.

Forgive me blog gods for I have taken yet another picture of food I ate today, and all indications are good that I’m going to go on and talk about it.  Right here.  In my blog.

I’m sorry if you come here thinking you’re going to find something more intelligent.

I will devote more time to writing.  I will.

It’s a time thing.  I’m not complaining, I just have a lot on my plate.  [NOTE: I actually spent the last thirty minutes listing it all, explaining everything.. then deleted it because, WOW, that would be insanely boring to read!  Jesus, what was I thinking?  (And double Jesus: like I had time to do that but not time to actually write something.)]

It sucks to be a blogger sometimes.

So, no commentary, even, on the salmon salad above.  Except to say the reason I took the picture (as if there is ever a legitimate reason to take a picture of one’s lunch), was the radish.  Fifty five and I’ve never eaten a radish.  Ever.  So I took that big step today, since this particular salad has a lot of them and I order this salad a lot and always eat everything but the radishes.  Which is dumb.

So, today, I ate one of those radish slivers.  It was a non-event.  Didn’t like it, didn’t dislike it.  It was unremarkable.

Like this photo, like this entry.

My humble apologies.

Okay.  If this is what passes for political debate in this country.. that’s it, I’m done.  Of course, I’ve been done many times, done for a long time, but I’m done yet again. This is just way, way too icky.

Wincingly embarrassing, bury-head-in-hand embarrassing.

I watched the intro, the preamble, to this week’s CNN-Tea Party sponsored republican debate and, like somebody else said, “I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up.”  I’m still thinking it’s a joke, that they didn’t really stage all this pageantry leading into a presidential debate.  But they actually did.

And this is what thoroughly disgusts me about today’s mainstream media: its stupiding-down and media-eventing of everything.  C’MON CNN!! I know, I know, you’re CNN, this is what your network does, but really?  You’ve turned a presidential debate into a tacky, tabloidal affair, and frankly, it’s just gross. The Blue Angels?

Uggh.

You’re laughing in the back room, right?  You can’t believe how stupid your audience is and what you have to do to keep its attention?  You must turn [what should be] serious programming into vapid entertainment because .. the audience is that thick?

Well. Okay.

Oh, and let me clarify, I didn’t watch the debate–I don’t have the stomach for it–I saw the preamble, just the preamble, on the Daily Show (forever grateful for Jon Stewart) a few minutes ago.

And you can, too, here (five minutes of barely watchable American reality)

(I can’t embed the video because it’s not a YouTube video or a Google Video… but just click on the above link and you can watch it at the Daily Show’s site… it’s worth it, but don’t be eating or drinking anything as you watch because you might spit up on your computer.)

Can I move now?

Really.. I’ve taken my deep breaths and filed this one away under moronic, inane shit the media does, and am moving on, going back to the refuge of sane, quiet, no frills media, like NPR and the Nation.

Cleaver, that is.

Been on a baking jag.  Inspired by The Big Green Bowl, have made all kinds of things in recent weeks– bars, scones, cakes, muffins. Getting my mom on, I suppose. Thought Peter might dig having some new kinds of treats to eat when he gets home from school.

That was the idea anyway.  But it’s been met with mixed reviews thus far.

Fortunately, baking’s pleasant and I’ve been really enjoying my time in the kitchen; will keep at it.

These blurry things are banana chocolate walnut muffins.  (And, “they’re alright.”)

When I’m scorekeeping, I often like to stand behind the plate in order to get as close to the umpire’s calls as I can.  Today, I spent a lot of time just to the right of home plate, but still right up against the fence.

Round about game three (yes, three games today, two yesterday, for a full weekend of baseball), standing at all was getting difficult..  my back was starting to ache in that way that makes you think we were never meant to be bipedal.. and after awhile, I was crouching down and watching the game from between slits in the backstop.   This was that view.

I really intended to write a little about the September 11 anniversary, which was on people’s minds (one of the parents put up a flag in our dugout).

However, it’s late and am way too sleepy to navigate that tricky territory well.  I will say I’ve been moved by the human stories, the personal losses.  NPR’s Storycorps, for example, has offered all week long a profound way to connect to people who were there. The human part of this story is hard to grasp and sad, the way all senseless loss of life is. Always. What this country has become since is also something profoundly sad.. but I really need to have my wits about me to write about that tragedy.

So for now, just another baseball shot, this one through the cracks.  That’s Alex pitching.  Some leg kick, huh?

This picture cracks me up.  I like the umpire, catcher and batter all in action mode.  I like the little tuft of flying dirt behind Peter’s right foot.

I like that they won this game, even though that, above, wasn’t a great hit.

I like playing in Martinez because it’s right on the water, the downtown’s old and cool, the snack shack serves real milkshakes and the whole park is grizzled and scrappy..but pretty much the real deal. Dangerous, too, because foul balls fly everywhere–liabilities be damned.

Best of all, we get to go back and play at least two more games tomorrow.

Continuing the theme of brazenly aiming my camera in the direction of bright objects… can you tell what it is?  Think Van Gogh… and you can almost, maybe make it out.

A Van Goghian sunflower at high noon.  I like the blue.

Speaking of brazen.  Not a word I use much, funny it should pop into my head.  But I can’t hear the word without thinking of this song, taught to me by my aunt Ellie when I was a wee one.  This is truly a great song, which she sang while accompanying herself on the ukulele.

Here it is, sung to the tune of “Brazen Little Raisin.”

Brazen Little Raisin

Way out in California, where the sunbeams shine, 
A little grape was hanging on a big grape vine, 
Said mama grape, “Be careful, don’t get too much sun, 
’cause grapes turn into raisins when they’re too well done.”

CHORUS: 
Shame, shame, the brazen little raisin, 
Shame, shame, he wasn’t so smart, 
Shame, shame, the brazen little raisin, 
He’s gonna be a part of a raisin tart.

“Now who’s afraid of sunshine?”, said the grape quite bold, 
As out into the vineyard in the sun he rolled, 
And after several hours when he felt his head, 
He was shriveled up and wrinkled as his mama said.

A farmer came and tossed him in a great big crate, 
A little lady raisin met the same sad fate, 
The lady raisin whispered, “Are you man or grape? 
There isn’t any raisin why we can’t escape!”

They found a place to exit and they rolled straight home, 
And now they’re in the vineyard, never more to roam. 
That’s why on every grapevine you will always see, 
A couple of raisins hanging where two grapes should be.

Wonderful, huh?  I especially love the pun.  I know, nothing to do with sunflowers, Van Gogh, high noon.. nothing.

Welcome to my stream of consciousness, here on a sunny afternoon.

What a great morning. Been smug about it all day.  Went to the dentist and wow… superstar.

Brief background: I’d started using an electric toothbrush 6 months ago at Karen’s (dental assistant for life) urging.  Not the first time she’d suggested it, but the first time I actually thought I might, maybe, perhaps consider it.  I’ve always thought very highly of my teeth brushing technique, and just could not be convinced that I might possibly achieve a better outcome with a motorized toothbrush; seemed gimmicky.  She’s told me over the years, however, that, as rigorous a brusher as I am, I’m missing spots (I denied this). My excuse about its being ticklish finally seemed, even to me, sort of silly, so decided to try it.  Also, I couldn’t stand the thought I was missing spots. If true.

After a couple agonizing outings (tickly to the point of abuse), I actually got used to it, and, whoa, I liked it.  In fact, I REALLY liked it.  I got to looking forward to the teeth brushing parts of the day.. like, oh boy, time to go brush my teeth!

So, after a full six months with the electric brush, I’d been dying to see how I did.

And here it is:  No missed spots. No coffee, red wine or blueberry stains. Smooth and awesome. “You’re going to put me out of a job.” That’s a quote.  Karen says I’m the poster patient for successful toothbrush conversions.

Bonus:  One of the weirder things about our household is this ongoing dental hygiene competition.  We compare fillings, crowns, root canals (none yet), and my favorite: the depth of our pockets.  After 6 months with my super Sonicare device, my pockets have gone from “a lot of ones and twos, quite a few threes, and a few too many problematic fours,” to “mostly ones and twos, just a few threes, and maybe only one four.”  In six months. Beat that Jim!

So…  yep, smug and happy.

And the picture? That’s the view from the dentist chair.

~~~~~~

Postscript on Swim or Sink from yesterday:  Swam 45 laps (that’s 1125 yards, if that means anything to you).  Not without stopping, but still.  Had to do a few things I’ve never done: 1) breathe on my right side; 2) the back stroke; 3) wear a bathing cap as an adult.  But…it was okay, even though I took in a few gulps of water and had to splash away a cockroach that’d drifted into my lane.  I’m pretty certain I will not be able to raise my arms over my head by tomorrow morning.