25 – Nuts and Brats

May 1993 – San Francisco and Mill Valley

Pretty frickin' funny how this woman throws coins at some children’s feet and says, “You dropped a dime… You dropped a penny.” As if she was tossing crumbs to pigeons.

She tells me on the bus about a grizzly bear taller than all these trees transformed into 8 pumas after disappearing. Pumas 6 feet tall. I guess the era of hallucinogenics hasn’t totally faded from the San Francisco scene. It sometimes drifts away from Haight Street and onto public transit.

Meanwhile, in Mill Valley at the Depot square, brats lie on the sidewalk, spit and smoke – some with model beauty and 14-year-old authenticity. They draw on the brick with colored chalk.

They dream and spread out like they’re sprawled on a California King bed. They remain oblivious of the pedestrians they’re blocking.

Perhaps they just want to be noticed. Perhaps mommy’s having an affair and daddy’s getting hammered in the middle of the day. I feel pity for a second, but snake through them more concerned about their eventual contribution to society.

(Who wouldn’t like to just lie in the middle of nowhere whenever and not care what others think?)

Well, I hope they enjoy it while they can and grow up with a sense of responsibility one day.