Back from the Midwest. It is odd to join in the experience of major college football; folks flying in and driving in from all over the country, parking in huge fields, tail-gating, guzzling crap beer (right up to the stadium gates, there being no booze allowed inside), then trying to sit on uncomfortable benches. Apparently Notre Dame expanded the seating in their stadium; our guess is they accomplished this by painting the seat number closer together on the benches. There is no way that normal-sized modern adults could sit on those benches with any degree of comfort, or even room to breath. No joke.

Anyway, glad to be back on the Left Coast. Picked up the dogs from the dog hotel, then my father and I walked down to Flying Pie Pizzeria for lunch. The pizzeria is on a one-way portion of Stark Street; we intersected it from the north on 78th. 78th does a bit of a jig at that intersection; the south side is about fifty feet dislocated to the east. Since Stark Street runs east to west, this means you can’t go from north to south on 78th; instead you have to turn right on Stark, go up to 76th (for some reason there’s no 77th in the area) and make your way back to 78th. A pain, certainly, but it’s clearly an illegal move to try and scoot left and across Stark and connect again with 78th. While waiting to cross Stark ourselves I noticed a guy in a pickup stop and signal for a left turn. Since I live in the neighborhood and don’t want to get run over by assholes turning the wrong way on one-way streets, I walked over and gave the best stink-eye and pointed out to the driver the sign that said “right turn only”. So he turned right but was obviously miffed that I had interfered with his convenience.