Halloween: not just for kids. As any student of Bakhtin or Butler will tell you, grown-ups get a lot out of dressing up, too. For many years, since the kiddles became of trick-or-treating age, I’ve dressed up as a Fred MacMurrayesque dad. Moustache, tie, plastic pipe, sweater, newspaper under my
Intrepid campers, Olema, CA. We took a camping trip a few weekends back. A micro-trip: one overnight, left town Saturday afternoon after work, came back Sunday night. Camped out in the brother-in-law’s camper van. Stayed in one of those commercial RV park dealies, because of course the whole thing was
Window watcher, Berkeley, CA. The window he’s looking out is the back door, not the front. We live in Berkeley, CA (better known, perhaps, as “Berzerkeley” or “The People’s Republic of Berkeley”) and we’ve seen stilt walkers, solitary harmonica players, muttering grocery cart pushers, cell phone-clutching subway-bound commuters, skateboard riders,