This week we’re between rains and it’s warmer, so it’s really good Segway weather even though I’m not above riding in the rain if it’s not raining hard. See, I do much of my shopping on the Segway partly because it’s so convenient and partly because I get great joy out of being able to mention that I had to break down and put some gas in the Prius last week but that the previous time was over a month ago and a couple hundred miles south of here on my way back from Palm Springs.
There’s actually another reason to ride the Segway, though, and that came up today.
This morning I rode down to the gym and then went on down 18th Street to see if Jivano was there so I could inquire about how long he’ll be around. Yeah, that block is gentrifying, what with Delfina and then Bi-Rite and then Tartine and then the Delfina Pizza place and now the new Bi-Rite cafe and bakery.
So this investor has bought the building where Jivano lives in the back end of the ground floor and sharpens knives in his shop at the front, and after the deal went through before Christmas he told Jivano that he’d be evicting everybody after the new year to do something with the building so he can turn it over. Not exactly sure what yet, but it’s gonna be a major renovation and probably won’t be appropriate, that is affordable, for a knife sharpener any more.
But Jivano didn’t have his blinds open, so I didn’t ring and rode on down to Tartine, thinking maybe I could squander the day’s glycemic load on one of their astounding croissants. Luckily, the line was snaking around enough to boost my will power. So I went on down to Valencia and over to Casa Guadalupe at 25th and Mission, where I bought a stewing chicken for a Mole Poblano Gallina and also picked up some good-looking mangoes and Jalapeños for a chutney.
On the way back home I’m going up 24th Street, where the lights are timed real well for a Segway. So well, in fact, that I keep catching up to this guy my age driving a large bright black American luxury sedan. By the time I’ve passed him the fourth time, I realize that surely the energy equivalent of an entire barrel of Middle-Eastern oil could be generated if we could only somehow run through a turbine the steam venting at high velocity from his ears.
You know, just the inherent wrongness and downright unfairness of it all can get to a man whose very vehicle shows that he is far too entitled to be passed over and over and over by a whirring, obnoxious insect…even one that in no way impedes his progress.
But on a lighter note, how about some Petaluma hoppers on a gray day:
