Good morning, campers


Lazed around at my campsite until 2 in the afternoon, feeding my feral cats and listening to the Giants game on the radio (Giants won 9 to 8!!).  What the fuck, it’s Sunday, the day of rest.  And tomorrow is Malcolm X Day, an official holiday in Berkeley.  So I’m taking it easy.  I wake up woozy, as usual, from all the booze I drink.  It occurred to me last night that almost all of the different drinking partners I’ve had over the years are gone.  They’re either dead, or they had to give up drinking because their bodies broke down, or they got into programs (one guy takes these pills that make him sick if he drinks alcohol).  So I give myself points for stamina if nothing else.

Trudge down to civilization.  Well, People’s Park.  Buy a Virginia Slim from Hate Man for 50 cents.  Before I even light it, a fight breaks out on the lawn in front of us.  Three young street guys and a chick with a skateboard are chasing after this other street person, a big, loony-acting guy with no shirt on.  The chick whacks him on his side a  couple of times with her skateboard.  Another guy whacks him from behind.  He almost goes down on the ground but scrambles to keep his balance.  So he avoids getting gang-stomped, but just barely.  They’re chasing him all around the lawn.  The loon can’t decide whether to run away or fight back.  So they’re all dancing around each other.  The chick grabs a guitar lying on the ground — I assume it’s his — and hurls it at a tree.  CRACK!!

“I think that’s Woodhead,” said Hate Man as he intently watched the action.  “He’s been doing meth and acting crazy all morning.  He’s been feuding with Mad Max who threatened to kill him.  And I heard someone scream, ‘I’m going to get my weapon!’  And someone else was shouting, ‘Get out of the Park nobody likes you!'”

The shirtless loon leaves the Park, and then comes back with this woman for back-up.  They both have big sticks in their hands that they’re waving around.

“Geez, it’s like a bunch of cavemen,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Hate Man.

I stubbed out my cigarette before I half-smoked it.  “I gotta’ go get some coffee and wake up,” I said.

And that’s how my day started.  How is yours going?


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