A memorable day

May 20, 2012 was an incredible day in "my fair city."  There was a confluence of several outstanding events which made the date a memorable one.  It was also a day of beautiful, sunny, warm weather and clear skies--a day to relish on any occasion where I live near the beach.  I wasn't able to attend all the activities, but I was aware of them.

First, was the annual party foot race, the Bay to Breakers.  Even though I am an avid walker, I really don't jog, and have never participated in this popular run.  It always does impact the residents out here, however.  The streets start closing down, starting with the  upper Great Highway.The day before I was able to take my walk on the highway with bicycles and runners passing instead of speeding cars, and when I got to Lincoln Way I could see the white tents at the beach.  All the cars were detoured to the lower Great Highway.  Also several other North/South streets are closed making it difficult to cross the city by any transportation.  On Sunday, all the extra parking spaces are filled, and there were hoards of strangely-attired people with numbers on there chests swarming the streets.   

Next was the 75th Anniversary of the Bridge.  That is a significant milestone for our beautiful Golden Gate Bridge, and there were several activities on the North side of the city.  All I was able to see was the photo and news articles in the paper.  I do plan to walk the bridge with my husband in the near future, even though I'm deathly afraid of the heights and looking over the bridge.  It feels like the water is pulling you in. 

The event I planned for was the annular eclipse of the sun by the moon, which could be seen here in Northern California.  In my city, it was a partial eclipse.  I wanted to see it because I was curious and because it's not often I have a chance to see such a phenomena.  I wanted to watch it safely, since I well know how the sun can ruin one's eye sight, so I picked the viewing at the Academy of Sciences.  The e-mail sent to me from the members newsletter said to be on the stairs of the Academy around 5:15 p.m., so my husband, son and I started out around 4:00 to find parking outside the park in this parking-challenged neighborhood.  My husband dropped us off at 9th and Judah so we could walk, while he found a space not far off.  We all met at the baseball diamond and continued on towards the bandstand area.  As we were walking, I could see the remnants of the Bay to Breakers crowd going in the opposite direction.  They were very noticeable in their green smurf costumes, toga outfits, ballet tutu's, and their high spirits.  One toga-clad young man yelled something at me in some unidentifiable language and walked on--I hope it was something nice. 

Soon we neared the Academy and I could see only a few people gathering around some men in orange coats setting up telescopes.  I half-expected to see thousands of spectators crowding around to catch a glimpse through the viewing equipment, so I was delighted that we were among the first to be there.  Soon more people started arriving, but the crowd was always manageable and very polite.  There were lots of families with young children, youngish adults, and grandmotherly people, like me.  We all stood in line to look through the telescopes which had filters on them.  We were also given special, filtered glasses, which we had to share.  Eventually people started putting the glasses over their cell phone cameras to take photos.  Other people had pinhole papers and were projecting the image of the sun onto the pavement.  Another young man sitting next to us on the cement wall had his camera set up with telephoto lens and was able to capture a very good picture of the eclipse on his screen, giving us a private viewing.  I shared my highly prized, special glasses with many people, and especially with children who were delighted.  One little boy was trying to look at the sun wearing sunglasses with his mother standing next to him.  I quickly told him not to look at the sun directly and shared my glasses with him.  The event  turned out to be a fun, friendly, community experience. 

The end of the day was completed with a dinner at a nearby Italian Restaurant.  It was a kind of an anticlimax to an otherwise beautiful day.  I'm not sure what was going on with my son and husband--maybe they were tired, anxious, overwhelmed, or just crabby, but after we sat down in the crampy booth seat, I tried to arrange the jackets and my purse so there was enough room.  My son handed me something over the table, accidentally knocking over a glass of water, which quickly spread over the glass top on the table.  I felt wetness in my lap, so I quickly scrambled to slide out of the seat.  My husband looked dismayed and my son went to get another table.  When we moved across to a new table, my husband joined us, and when he handed me my hat, bingo--another glass was knocked over, spilling water all over me.  The staff was very understanding and cleaned up the mess, but never said a word.  At the end of the very enjoyable meal, we were treated with a surprise--a slice of spumoni ice cream in a pie crust, which I relished despite the extra W.W. points.  Then as we were getting ready to leave, a waiter brought me a certificate for $20.00 towards another meal.  My dinner with klutzy companions had it's merits and put a finishing touch to a memorable day.

Reminiscing over the Mountain

Driving alone over the Sierra Nevada's put me in a pensive mood.  The craggy mountains covered with spring snow shown in the morning sunlight.  My quiet hybrid car seemed to float effortlessly up the steep grade and I was able to watch the scenery gliding by as I reflected on the previous hour.  That morning, two weeks ago, I had dropped my grandkids off at their school before heading for home.  I had arrived in time, before the bell rang, and the kids told me to just drop them off, so I pulled into the small parking lot next to the office and stopped by the gate, as the kids bounced out of the car with their backpacks.  The oldest one ran through the nearby gate, but the younger ran around the office to his side of the school.  I felt nervous just letting him go, so I followed with my car watching him go through the gate and then disappearing in the group of children waiting to go into the 2nd grade classroom.  I was fairly confident he  entered into his classroom safely, but still I felt anxious.  I wanted to hand-deliver him to his teacher.

This "getting to school" scene was quite a contrast from when my brother and I went to school.  I don't remember much about going to kindergarten or first grade; hopefully my mother accompanied me.  I do remember one of the first times I had walked home from school in the second grade.  We had just moved from 34th Avenue to a new home closer to the beach.  It must have been in September at the beginning of the school year when I was maybe 7, and I remember our classmates were just getting acquainted.   I talked to a girl whom I learned lived close to my block, so I walked home with her.  We chatted and walked for six or seven blocks and then I thought I needed to turn down to the next street where I thought I lived.  I walked the long city block to the corner and then realized nothing looked familiar and I felt lost.  I was scared and almost wanted to cry, but I looked up the street, and there was my house.  I'm not sure I told my mother.

Another time, I walked home from school to the same house, I heard a bunch of older boys running down the hill above my block.  They were singing and making a lot of noise, and when they saw me watching them, they must have made comments or something, because I became very frightened.  I ran into the basement side door and was so scared I left a puddle on the concrete.  Thank goodness the waterhose was nearby so I could clean up the evidence, because it would have been so embarrassing.

Walking to school and back was not always something scary.  It mostly became a routine part of the day.  We just found friends to walk with and chatted, making the time shorter.  It never would have entered my thinking to get a ride to school.  We walked in the wind, rain, fog, and occasionally in the sun.  I remember squinting to keep the sun out of my eyes--no sunglasses or hats.  In the rain, I remember having umbrellas that blew inside/out in the wind.  By the end of the school year, my shoes were worn out, and I would walk flapping the lose sole of my shoes on the pavement like a duck.  I didn't think I was poor because my soles were worn--it was just a phenomenem which happend in May or June.  Next year I'd get a new pair of shoes. 

When my own kids started school, I just very calmly thought that they should walk--it gave them discipline and exercise.  Of course, I accompanied them at first, but they usually wanted to walk with their friends.  But now I see a difference.  Most parents have to get to school and drop their children off early, maybe to before-school care.  Long lines of automobiles queue up to take turns delivering their offspring.  I do see groups of older kids walking after school in my neighborhood and an occasional bicycle rider.  Sometimes, the grandparents will walk the little ones to their classes, but mostly I see adults driving cars full of kids rushing to get to school on time.

Then my reverie ended.  I pulled over to take a few photos of the beautiful alpine scene, and when I started back on the road, my driving became more difficult.  There was an endless number of trailer trucks making their way down the other side of the mountain.  The highway was also filled with highway maintenance workers and equipment repairing the roads, making it necessary to drive slowly.  I had to concentrate on driving safely.

Our lives have become so busy and complicated, I thought, from the days when I was in grammar school.  We are so aware of keeping safe in an uncertain world.