Today Berkeley is awash with war protesters today: downtown, in the civic center around the library. Sixty extra policemen are lurking around and mingling with the Pinks Against War ladies in front of the Marine Recruiting Center, which is right around the corner from my office. If you missed it, the Pinks exploits were detailed on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart last week. (And, yes, people really do behave like that here.)
Nobody was openly smoking a doobie this morning, which was a little disconcerting in this little Socialist Republic.
On today's walk from the bus I passed 15 policemen banked against a walk providing a backdrop for five silent people in orange jumpsuits, tied hands and back bags over their heads. No one said a word, not even small talk.
Around the corner seven bikers were parking their Harleys and digging out large American flags and "Marines For America" signs and swigging from Starbucks cups. The Orange Jumpsuits Guys apparently get up much earlier.
After work I passed by the same place and the orange jumpsuit guys were packing up their stuff and the police had been reduced to five; the bikers only hung around for thirty minutes apparently. One of the jumpsuit chaps was making big old flirtasaurtous eyes as a particularly dashing latina cop over takeout cups of Pete's coffee. Ah, Spring!
The chives are sprouting, Fred's family is back from Brazil and moving in on the hummingbird feeder (Fred tries to chase them off), and the co-eds are showing up to University in shorts and woolly sweaters.
New find: Faeryknitting podcast! Someone who understand the scariness of fairytales and how disgusting alpaca can be.