Woke up this morning and went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. In retrospect I should have just set a $20 bill on fire and filmed it and created my own art project, it would have been better.
Here is the building across the street, can you spot Waldo?
I really like what I came up with. I was playing with the "horrible old woman" concept, along the lines of the "crooked old man" with the "crooked old cat" that I had seen a couple days ago, and as I was walking into the park, this middle aged woman mumbled "Obama" at me as I walked past her, but she kept walking and pretended like she didn't. So this is what I wrote:
The Horrible Old Woman went down the stairs of her B & B home, passing a guest on the stairwell as she went. She whispered very softly the last name of the conservative candidate for PM as she passed, reasoning that subtle hypnosis was as good a method of vote collecting as any. She'd been trying a few methods recently of drumming up support for her chosen candidate and this was the latest. She had tried volunteering at the local riding office and calling people on the phone with disastrous results. People didn't generally want to be bothered at home, or if they did they were usually in the mood for an argument about things over which she had no control: health care, taxes, schools, as if she were a policy maker and not a lowly volunteer.
On her nightstand beside her horrible old bed was a book by Edgar Case, "Understanding the Subconscious Mind." Not the type of thing she usually read but it had been left by a guest so she had been browsing through it before drifting off to sleep the last couple of nights. The book suggested a word lightly spoken could have subconscious impact on a subject if repeated and she had just finished reading this when she got out of bed and headed down the stairs.
The Horrible Old Woman now turned to look directly at the man walking up the other side of the narrow staircase and smiled and said hello.
He looked up, distracted and groggy with sleep and mumbled something that could have been hello as he walked back up stairs to his room. At least it COULD have been hello. It could have been the name of the Labour candidate for all she knew, her hearing seemed to be going and these young people did tend to mumble. Was it possible the Edgar Case book was more popular than she knew?
Turning back down the stairs, she mumbled the name of the Conservative party candidate once more for good measure and continued to the kitchen.
The Horrible Old Woman got a tin of cat food out of the cupboard and bent to feed her Horrible Old cat who had been mewing incessantly. Giving it a few light strokes, her back started to ache, reminding her of her age, urging her to stand straight and move into the hallway.
She reviewed the reservation book for the day, as she had each morning since her husband had passed away and she had decided to open their large house as a B & B in an effort to continue living there. A full house again, business was good in the summer, and she had a couple checking in early that morning.
She glanced at the clock above the mantle, 7 a.m. Time to start getting breakfast and coffee ready for the guests. She walked back over to the kitchen hearing a click sound from her leg as she turned too suddenly. Whatever next, she wondered. Her attention was caught by the sound of a car pulling in to the gravel driveway.
The Horrible Old Woman walked up to the large drawing room window of her Horrible Old House and brushed aside an edge of curtain so she could look outside. This was early indeed for guests and she watched the man struggle with trying to open the trunk of his rental car while his passenger sat inside. Presently the passenger door opened as well and out stepped a younger man, 30's, 40's, who could tell, wearing a pink shirt with some white writing on it she couldn't quite make out.
She glanced from one well-dressed man to the other and back, and it slowly dawned on the Horrible Old Woman the nature of their relationship.
She reflexively clicked her tongue and let the curtain go.There was going to be a problem here.
Afterward I went shopping at Old Navy again and bought a jacket as I was kind of freezing. I went back to my room and packed and then thought I'd head back to the Castro for dinner.
Lots of the places were like sushi, which I don't like, or places with a bar like atmosphere and as I was alone I thought I'd read my book but I couldn't as it was too dark.
While I was there I took another photo of the LGBT history museum as I'm supposed to write an article about my visit for the CLGA newsletter and I didn't have a photo of the outside.
After, went over to the Human Rights Campaign store and action centre which is in the building which used to be Harvey Milk's camera store. I bought a ring that says "Equal". I've bought other rings over the course of my life, what the hell happened to all of them?
Michael Breyette. His stuff looks awesome and I ordered a 2013 calendar and a couple other things from him when I got back to my room tonight.
Flight is at 1 pm tomorrow but I need to leave here at 9:30 or before so off to bed. LA tomorrow, the time in SF has FLOWN by.