On my walk from the Millionaires’ Island bus station to the office, there was heavy jackhammering going on at the brand new and not-yet open light rain station.
It’s classic incompetence. The island and eastside rail extensions, long under construction, have been delayed by at least another year, because four miles of concrete needs to be blasted apart and re-poured. It was mixed wrong.
That’s a substantial oopsie, isn’t it? It’s the kind of screw-up where heads ought to roll, but there’ve been no news reports about heads rolling. Sound Transit doesn’t know how to roll heads.
“It’s going to be just fine,” says an executive in that article from last summer. “There are issues in all megaprojects. You have issues you must overcome, and we will overcome every one of these issues.”
I’ll probably be dead of old age before there’s a rail connection to the island where I work.
When I dream of flying, I only get a few feet off the ground, but it’s a great convenience for going up stairs — floating, instead of all that climbing. And it’s great fun, soaring a few feet above the crowd in public spaces.
In a recent dream, I flew down a flight of stairs from an open concourse to what must’ve been a bookstore below, where a man was reading poetry at a microphone, for an audience. I think he was the late Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
When Larry finished, I floated toward the aisles of books, but a very nice 30-something woman flagged me down to offer a copy of her zine. All I could give her in exchange was an URL, because I don’t do a zine any more. Now I blog, and occasionally fly.
She said thanks, and I happily brought her zine home. It was full of poetry, and I sat in my recliner to read it, but fell asleep in the dream and woke up in the recliner without the zine.
After a rough day at the office — they showed me a new task, and I thought I understood it but boy did I not — I decided I needed something better for dinner than anything I could make, so I tried Matt’s Weenies on East Marginal Way.
I ordered and ate a Chicago dog, a Seattle dog, and an order of fries. The prices were reasonable, and the dogs were pretty good, but a little light on the fixins. The fries were thin, but good. The service was quick and friendly. The place seemed clean. All in all, everything was better than OK, but I ate my food standing at a thin counter, because Matt’s has no seating except on picnic tables outdoors.
I’m an old, fat man who doesn’t want to eat standing up. And also, this is Seattle, where it rains a lot. Gotta stand up to eat when it’s cold outside, and when it’s hot those few tables will be jam-packed, so Matt’s is pretty good, but I can’t see making it a habit.
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On a different afternoon, I finally tried Aliberto Jr’s. It’s a local chain of Mexican fast-food places that didn’t exist last time I lived here, and which I’ve ignored since moving back.
I want real burritos, not chain burritos, so I’ve eaten at half a dozen Mexican places in Seattle. Some of them even pretend to make “California-style” burritos, but they’re all liars. For a decent California-style burrito, you must go to California.
What’s worse than so-so burritos is that all the local places I’ve tried have served only small or small-ish burritos, or big but unimpressive burritos at very steep prices.
Into Aliberto Jr’s I walked, carrrying low expectations, and figuring I’d have to buy two burritos to get one burrito’s worth of burrito. A “monster burrito” jumped at me from the readerboard menu. Big is good, even if the burrito isn’t good.
For $8.49, the sign promised “meat, rice, beans, guacamole, pico de gallo, lettuce, sour cream and cheese,” but it didn’t say what the meat would be. As if I care. It’s a monster burrito, so presumably it’s Godzillameat.
I ordered it, and the service was slow, mostly in Spanish, and sorta surly, but the burrito was tasty, messy, and enough. The meat was hamburger, surrounded with other yummy slop, and the burrito was as big as it could be without being ridiculously big. It was enough to fill me up, without emptying my wallet.
It’s not El Casitillito, but it’s the best burrito I’ve had since El Castillito, and there are chairs so I’ll be back to Junior’s. I went back the next night, actually, and bought three monster burritos — one for that night, and two for the fridge and microwave the next two nights.
For three days in February, I worked for the Post Office. Then I stopped showing up, but since I’d never met the boss or even been told his/her name, number, or email, I never explicitly quit.
In the mail, I’ve now received notification that I’m suspected of job abandonment. They’re asking whether I’ll want union representation at my hearing.
We’re all searching for something, and have been, for the entirety of our lives. We grow old, wrinkled, and our hopes fade, but we never stop looking.Have you found it? Do you have it?Check your pockets, please.
News you need,
whether you know it or not• Stop stopping the presses: The Texas Observer will continue to observe • Most of Norfolk Southern video leading up to East Palestine derailment is gone • Agatha Christie novels reworked to remove potentially offensive language As with Roald Dahl’s rewrites a month ago, why is this “bad news”? In the first run of Pathetic Life, I sometimes used the word ‘retard’, but times have changed and now that’s considered rude, so as I’ve retyped the pages, poof, for the most part I’ve edited that word away.That’s not censorship, it’s good manners.
• Climate change is reshaping the Alps • Climate change wreaks havoc in southern Africa • Global water crisis could “spiral out of control” due to overconsumption and climate change
• Black man in traffic stop suffers broken jaw, two broken orbitals, broken cheek bones, and five to six missing teeth in accidental fall, police say • Ex-detective pleads guilty to bribery in towing scandal • When inmates are near death, Jailers get to decide whether families are called • Virginia officer fired after killing an unarmed man suspected of shoplifting • 7 California officers charged after killing another black man who died saying “I can’t breathe” • No jail time for cop who stole more that $30,000 in merchandise • Chicago police union leader warns of resignations, “blood in the streets” if election doesn’t go his way • Cop gets 14 years for distributing cocaine
• Angry Fox News chief said fact-checks of Trump’s election lies “bad for business” • Red state Republicans are rolling back child labor laws • Wisconsin school district bans kids from singing a Dolly Parton-Miley Cyrus song about unity
Mystery links
There’s no knowing where you’re going• Click • Click • Click • Click • Click
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My browser history
without the porn• “Fact-checking” is a feeble, inadequate way to respond to racist, antisemitic incitement
by Dan Froomkin
• Millionaire publisher declares he’s broke (1974)
by Warren Hinckle• The Chicago Seven and the ’60s
by Jonah Raskin
♫♬ It don’t mean a thing ♫
if it don’t have that swing• Eve of Destruction — Barry McGuire • Gypsy – Fleetwood Mac • Jessica — The Allman Brothers • Over at the Frankenstein Place — Rocky Horror • Stuck in the Middle with You — Cornbread Red
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Eventually, everyone
leaves the building• Christopher Fowler • Paul O’Grady • Nicholas Lloyd Webber • Jim Mellen • Randall Robinson
kindness, along with anything off the internet that’s made me smile or
snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited. Tip ‘o the hat to ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf’s, CaptCreate’s Log, Katameme, Looking for My Perfect Sandwich, One Finger Medical, Two Finger Magical, Miss Miriam’s Mirror, Nebulously Burnished, RanPrieur.com, Voenix Rising, and anywhere else I’ve stolen links, illustrations, or inspiration. Special thanks to Linden Arden, Becky Jo, Wynn Bruce, Joey Jo Jo, John the Basket, Dave S, Name Withheld, and always extra special thanks to my lovely late Stephanie, who gave me 21 years and proved that the world isn’t always shitty.
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