Into the wild, blue Bay area-
It happens that I’ll be chugging to San Francisco tomorrow, there to take in the sights, catch a ball-game, visit a dead and foreign King and most probably brunch at a posh hotel before wandering the desolate, bar-strewn corridors of an island prison.
I’m looking forward to the getaway, though my available wardrobe is cause for anxiety. I think I can reasonably fake the more urban look with one *great* pair of new jeans, a classy summer dress outfit of some sort, and a city haircut. Here at the coast it’s possible to get by on coastal retail outlets and 2nd-hand stores. Nobody blinks. The fashion sense hereabouts could be characterized as ‘blandly cheerful grunge band’. You have the same flannel, jeans, tee-shirts and rumpled un-tucked execution, but the colors are more Monet than Megadeath.
Anyhow, between Phagans (cosmetology school for sociable drop-outs) and the legally blind woman at Jinny’s Boutique, you can get a better haircut with a hack-saw than at any beauty stop on the Central Oregon Coast.
I am debating the camera issue, though.
In a weird way, personal perspective can be somewhat confining. Right now it feels like if I don’t start looking at things differently, I’ll die young, angry and unkempt with a really crap haircut. My instinct is to leave that stalwart little point-and-shoot at home and just *be* for awhile.
But … King Tut? There could be some really fantastic picture opportunities.
I guess we’ll find out which way that went come Thursday, when I get home.
Have a nice weekend, weeble-bums.