Some Kind of Confusion Here

I needed an early morning walk. Our brief flirtation with an overly heated Indian summer is over, at least on the ocean side of the Bay, so I headed out the door on my way to Golden Gate Park just two blocks away. The fog still lingered in the near distance with a grey bank just above tree top level. I was swaddled in layers, hood up, just a meander to clear my mind, no need for human interaction, just movement and today at a slow pace.

My mood was a bit sour, I noticed the far off construction noize and not the chirping birds. A dropped chunk of trash was more annoying than the late season blooms were uplifting. Sour, yep that's a good word.

I angled away from every sound of people. Eventually, I had stumbled a half-circle path back to what passes for civilization. Rather than go directly back into the neighborhood, I stayed in the park and moved east to shorten the distance between park exit and the house. Less development, more green and fewer humans to encounter.

I could hear them from a distance. A couple arguing, a bit drunk, at 7am probably still drunk from a chilly night in the park. Homeless I assumed, fighting over something mundane rather than face their real problems. The words were worn bits of verbal fencing, they had volleyed like this before. 

I could have doubled-back a block and not passed them but I was suddenly tired and wanted the quickest route back to my book and the sofa. I didn't have my wallet but as always I had stuck a twenty in my pocket just in case. I pulled it out with the intention of handing it to them without comment, I couldn't save them from themselves but maybe today could be a little better.

I stepped around the last bush between me and the verbal battle. Wait! she was in an evening dress, he a tux.

"I don't recognize you any more."

"ME! You're going to vote for Palin!"

Were they actually standing next to a limo?

"This is not about politics..."

"No it's about money and you wanting more and more."

Yep, a limo and driver idled thirty feet away at the curb.

I went for the mixed berry scone with a hot chocolate and gave the change to Emma the homeless lady who I have seen in this neighborhood for several years now. I am fairly sure its not about politics or money for her.

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art by Andrzej Krauze