Threatening Skies?

Your Boulevardier, accompanied by the Trusty BoulevarDog, walked midtown today. The overcast sky -- our so-called "summer weather pattern" -- cast a gloomy quiet over the morning.

It would seem that a certain tagger has been out in force. He signs himself "H8K" and his threatening mark appeared over the last few months in smaller venues -- street signs, telephone poles, fire hydrants -- done with marker pen. But today Your Boulevardier noted larger, more aggressive marks, done with spray cans: next to T-Kane's Karate, on a Boulevard bus shelter, on the east side of the former Valley Tool store. I asked a Sheriff's Deputy, parked at the gas station at The Boulevard and Redwood Road, what to make of the marks. He could only say that he wasn't working his regular beat today and didn't know. He said he'd ask his colleagues, but Your Boulevardier somehow thinks he won't. For now, we can only hope that merchants will paint over the offending marks.

The Trusty BoulevarDog got several distinctly wary looks from fellow pedestrians today. Dog maulings have been much in the news; indeed, today's San Francisco Chronicle trumpets the fact that the mother of the boy recently killed by a pit bull will be charged with a crime. Your Boulevardier did not try to convince untrusting pedestrians that the Trusty BoulevarDog was not a threat to them, unless perhaps they were wearing dark clothes, in which case they were at risk for a liberal coating of dog hair on their calves. Rather, all I could do was rein in the leash, make friendly eye contact, and keep walking. In some cases this strategy helped; in others, people kept their eyes on the dog.

The Lead Dog

This morning's stroll with the Trusty BoulevarDog was abbreviated due to an early morning commitment across town. We didn't get to the boulevard, but stayed in our own neighborhood. A block from our home, a neighbor saw us and asked a question often asked of dog-walkers: "Who's walking who?"

Your Boulevardier answered impulsively, but was immediately proud of the response. "I choose the route," I said, "but she sets the pace."

Forgive the philosophical digression from the usual fact-filled content of the Castro Valley Boulevardier, but isn't that a pretty good way to go through life with another person or creature? One chooses the route: decides what will be done, seen, and experienced. The other sets the pace: decides when to pause and sniff the shrubbery, and when to sprint after a squirrel.

It works for the Trusty BoulevarDog and myself.

On the Water, Sans Chien

Your Boulevardier, accompanied by longtime friend Mr. R., forwent the Boulevard this morning and took to the water.

Specifically, we rented kayaks and toured Lake Chabot. Mr. R. had suggested the activity in a phone conversation earlier in the week; he had recently gone paddling with his daughter and enjoyed it. He also mentioned that Wednesdays were half-price days, which was an inducement for both he and I, self-employed persons that we are.

We met at the boat house at 6:00 a.m. Mr. R. was well-dressed for the occasion, especially his floppy Austrialian-style expedition hat. Your Boulevardier may have run a distant second in the _exposition de mode,_ but fortunately I had remembered to bring gloves and a leash for the sunglasses. We did some simple paperwork and moved to the dock, where a young man named Jeremiah set us up. We chose our life jackets and one-person kayaks -- Your Boulevardier's a three-color green-white-blue number that looked like it would be at home in the ocean surf, and Mr. R. a teal craft.

Getting into the craft may have been the biggest challenge of the day (second only, perhaps, to disembarking). Once we were underway paddling, we felt free and easy as loons. A light breeze rippled the water, but not enough to add effort to our paddling. A low mist, maybe four feet tall, rested on much of the lake. As we paddled, the sun broke through the morning clouds and bathed the valley in warm beams. It was a glorious, peaceful experience. (Mr. R., a professional photographer and filmmaker, continually remarked on the "shots" he was missing.)

We circled to the east side of the lake's only island, then made our way to the dam. We passed a few fishermen, some trolling in aluminum boats, others casting from shore. One fish, I believe a trout, appearing to be a good 18 inches long, jumped ahead of us. Waterfowl, including cormorants, ducks, geese, and herons, flew and swam. Near the dam we spotted a few herons high in trees. Perhaps a rookery? We talked quietly about the challenges of work and life. The topics may have been stressful, but the steady exercise and the peaceful setting lifted our tension.

As we turned to return to the boathouse, the sun's intensity increased. Beams cut a bright, straight line across the vapor and water a quarter mile ahead of us, looking for for a brief moment like we were paddling toward a rendezvous with waterfall. We struggled to find words powerful enough to describe it, and eventually agreed, without saying so, to finish our paddle in silence. As we neared the boathouse, a fisherwoman heading out in an aluminum boat commented that we had gotten our exercise for the day. "Yes, we're feeling virtuous," was Your Boulevardier's only response.

Jeremiah met us at the dock and helped us to disembark. (Truth be told, Mr. R. needed no assistance.) I noted Jeremiah's Batman T-shirt, and asked if he had attended the midnight screening at the Chabot Cinema the night before. "Yeah, that's why I'm so tired this morning," he responded with a slight grin. "But it was awesome."

Well put, Jeremiah. Awesome is also the right word to describe an early morning paddle on the lake.

A Warming Walk on the West End

Your Boulevardier, accompanied by the Trusty BoulevarDog, walked the West End today. It was a lovely, bright, cloudless morning. At first we had low hopes for the walk -- the commuters were their usual oblivious selves, speeding and overrunning the crosswalks near Hamburger Island. But as our stroll took us past the Golden Tee, the Dell Cafe, and JD's, the town's pleasures reasserted themselves.

There were a few other walkers. A lovely older couple, presumably from India originally (Your Boulevardier bases this assumption on the lady's flowing outfit), greeted me warmly; she had already deployed an umbrella against the sun. We ran into our neighbor Fred, who remarked on the motorists who were honking their horns. "Can you believe road rage on a beautiful day like this?" he asked. When we assured him that we couldn't, he let us know that he wasn't going to let them mar his day. Hear, hear.

Work on the former Tony and Ted's seems to be stalled. The contractors have put plywood over the windows, so one can't peek at the extent of the damage. Published reports said that the roof was near collapse before the store was closed. The refurbishing on the front of Jenny's Cafe also seems stalled. One would hope that that work was largely structural, because if the goal was cosmetic the goal has been missed.

We also noted a sign in the Chabot Theatre box office: Tickets are on sale for the Tuesday midnight show of Batman Begins. Your Boulevardier is glad to see this sort of movie madness here in town.

The Trusty BoulevarDog is recovering nicely from her bout with arthritis. The combination of Doggie Vioxx (brand name: Deramaxx) and Glucosamine/Chondroitin (one capsule for her, two for Your Boulevardier) have helped a great deal. She no longer limps, and her energy is good. A few months of reduced activity have taken their toll on her weight physical condition, though -- she gets winded on a half-hour walk. But as summer has begun, with its longer, warmer days, we should both be out on the Boulevard more frequently.