Today I rode my bike to work. The sky was overcast (typical California morning) with a ceiling almost zero, i.e. fog seemed imminent, with the occaisional drop of moisture registering on my flesh. I was wearing the black flat cap I got in Vienna, and I hope this chapeau gives my two-wheeled appearance a jaunty, Continental air (as opposed to the typical Californian-Yuppie bicycle commuter with their racing helmet, skin-tight clothes and like-new bike).

While strolling in the sunshine on my lunch-time way to the cafeteria, I observed a squad of four roller-bladers. Their approach reminded me of the four flying Firemen in the "Fahrenheit 451" movie - there was a vague resemblance in their physical attitudes in relation to each other. Although the four flyers have but a minute of screen-time, they're quite memorable. To some this is due to the cheesiness of the 1966 special effects - it's obvious nobody's flying, they're all just dangling. Sudden uneasy thought - that new version with Mel Gibson as Montag is coming.

Something weird was happening on-the-job this morning - a prank concerning a personal dress eccentricity <1> of someone I don't even know. I met his tormentors in the men's room, taping up this image on the wall, one over each urinal. They'd created this graphic device for recording his fashion crimes, and today, for reasons of escalation, saturation had been decided upon. They'd run off several copies of this symbol, and now they're all over.

                ooo
               o   o
               o   o
                ooo
                 X
                / \
               /   \
              /_____\
              -------
              |  _  |
              |_| |_|
               #   #
            (==O   O==)

Popped a spoke on my rear wheel coming home - I've just gotta get new wheels!