97: life's a beach
Scenes from the weekend. A socially distant walk with masks, dogs and friends at the newly reopened Fort Funston.
It's hard to see in this photo, but grass grew on this dune by the parking lot during the closure.
We picked up flowers for some friends experiencing a loss (not Covid related), and experienced a "curbside pickup" zone.
Saw several examples of outdoor dining. (As improvised as this looks, my guess is it's fully permitted... See the difference?)
Deb made dinner Saturday, accompanied by her sister and some technology.
And there's a raccoon running havoc on the back porch.
That's all the news from Blake Wobegon.
There were some headlines, too.
For comparison, SF, with one tenth of LA's population, has only seen double that number of cases, and less deaths, the whole pandemic.
I'd heard anecdotes, that's the first time I've seen in print just how lopsided the effects of this diseases are right now. My guess is that is nearly 100% due to economic factors, like having to work despite a pandemic.
In unrelated but somehow significant news, last year our chief public defender died of a heart attack. The police, who weren't a fan, described the scene of death as a cocaine and red wine binge with a prostitute. The actual police investigation, which got leaked from within the police department to a local reporter, told a decidedly less saucy story. The police then executed a smash-down-the-door search warrant on this reporter's home, seizing computer gear, and walking all over his rights. And now this comes out:
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