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6:06 p.m. - 2003-04-11
Man...I really hope that was a staff member...
Today I was working in Oakland when a little, teeny girl ran down the street in front of me flailing her arms, crying, and wailing for her mommy. At first I expected someone else to be around, but as she stood on the corner looking left and right, I realized that she was alone. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I asked her if she was okay and she just kept wailing “mommy” and started to run back up street. I followed her, not sure if she was crying “mommy” because her mom was hurt, or she was trying to find her.

That little girl was fast, but I reckoned it would be a poor decision to start running to catch up as a white guy with a drill in his hand running after a little black girl who is screaming “mommy” might not go over very well with Oakland residents who happened to come upon the scene.

I finally did catch up to her and found out that she went to a school just up the block, so I walked her into the building and handed her off to the one of the staff members there.

At least I hope it was a staff member…

I think it was a case of a little girl not wanting to be dropped off at school. I was the same way when I was a little girl. Cept for the girl part. I hated school, and would often embarrass my mom by blubbering my way up to the front door of the kindygarden classroom, clutching her leg and begging for her to take me home. I was a mama’s boy f’sho.

I heard that you can run a diesel engine off of refined, used cooking oil without modification. I think I am going to look into how one goes about this, as having a used cooking oil powered truck will allow me to feel crazy self righteous and like I’m better than everyone else.

Bean is in Costa Rica visiting her family. I miss the ol gal, but I am glad she is getting a break from her job, which is hard. Very fucking hard. I used to think my job was harder, because I do “man’s work”. You know, hefting lumber and windows around, using dangerous power tools, cussing and farting and all that, but now I know that hers is way harder. I get to come home and forget about my day, she don’t. That is worth at least $10,000 a year in salary. So now I do what I can to make her life easier, and it is really a good thing for me too, because when her life is easier, so is mine.

 

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