Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Depending on who's counting, and in which direction

Jul 28, 2023

I’m writing this at SFO airport, on my way to London. I’m already looking forward to being there (euphemism for “I hate flying”). I haven’t seen my Mum and most of my family for over a year, and also because the pace of my final destination (after LHR)—the north-west outskirts of the capital—is strikingly different to life in San Francisco. In addition, I have memories of last June when I was last there. It was the most perfect weather (bar two cloudy days) of the most ideal English summer I have ever experienced in my life.

(I might be forgetting previous times and/or exaggerating, but truly last summer was the most enchanting time I’ve ever spent in NW/SK.)

Almost every day, I would go on long solo walks, capturing the slow, steady living of hardly anyone via my camera frame, 95% of which was a vibrant green at the bottom and a bright blue at the top.

How to aspect-ratio yourself

Through the 16:9 frame, I found myself falling in love with where I grew up, the place I couldn’t wait to leave my whole childhood. I told myself that if I had to, if I couldn’t afford to live in SF anymore, I could always come back to NW/SK and become a documentary filmmaker celebrating my small hometown.

Nice dream.

For the last month, in anticipation of this trip, I dreamt of doing nothing but sleeping for 3 days once I got there. Various projects (a few of which are listed here) have had me working long hours practically every day since March and, of course, the jet-lag of the next 36 hours will inevitably add to that. But my desired dormancy would have to be negotiated with my mother in exchange for attentive alertness for the rest of my time with here.

Please Mum, I’ll do everything you want after I wake up…

After I wake up, ell oh ell.

I love that my Mum is awake. Granted, about the current nonsense, through me, but really when I think about it, she’s been awake to a heap of nonsense her whole life. In April 2020, when I started to share with her what I was learning, hardly any of it surprised her, it just confirmed her suspicions.

Who do these people think they are?

My mother is the smartest kid in our family as you might have realized from a lot of my writing.

Anyway, I just have time before I board the 'plane, to tell you about a couple of crazy things that went down in Insane Francisco this week:

Stairway to Hell

This incredible car crash occurred about 10 minutes from where I live (the street where it crashed through the rails and went down is where my first album was created). Apparently it was a bunch of tea-leafs that were in the vehicle and, amazingly, nobody got hurt and all the passengers survived! Watch them all scarper as soon as the car door is opened…

Lockstep (tho’ not the kind we’re used to discussing)

Technically this incident did not “happen” this week but it was noticed for the first time on my way back from the climbing gym yesterday.

Yes, that’s right… somebody decided to chain their door mat to their front stoop!

That’s taking caution to an extreme, even in this crazy town. But I wonder if it’s because there’s a tent city right opposite that house?

Stepping on and off the train

On BART there were 9 people in my carriage, four of them were masks!

Oh no, here we go again. Throw your TVs away, people!

The train took me to SFO and as soon as disembarked, I saw these two signs within less than a minute.

Saners, we are in the latter half of 2023, and everything has been disproved, and still they try.

And still it works.

Step by Totalitarian Step (thanks 911)

At security, of course I said I didn’t want my body scanned so I got groped instead.

Would you like privacy?

No, in public please, so everyone can see me rolling my eyes.

A Flight of Steps

OK, I’m signing off now, about to take the stairs down to board the plane. See you on the other side…

PS As is my wont, I’ll probably come back and correct typos/grammar/links. It’s been tricky typing this on my ’phone.