Cactuseaters Reruns Part-One: Dancing the Muni Macarena

As I've said before, this is a nice city. However, I am not enjoying MUNI. Part accordion, part bus, part cable car, part marionette, the MUNI takes forever to arrive. The MUNI squeaks as it makes its slow, poky way through the city. I hate sitting on the little reversible seats while waiting for MUNI. They aren't really designed to hold a human being's weight. In fact, they have a tendency of dropping you down onto the indescribably filthy sidewalk if you aren't careful. But the worst part of it is the 'transfers' they give you once you pay your fare. The transfers are printed on what seems to be one-ply Charmin Ultrasoft Toilet Paper. These transfers start to disintegrate the moment you put them in your hand. Also, they are insanely easy to lose. That's why you always see all kinds of panicked people on the MUNI, clutching their chests and hips while making all kinds of desperate faces and mad gyrations as they tear open their wallets and turn their pockets inside out in their efforts to find the vouchers. It looks as if they are dancing.

Free Beer and Bacon at SF 1/2 Marathon

What a race. A group of young folks was handing out warm, gristly bacon and Coors Light to the runners while blasting GNR's "Sweet Child O' Mine.'' Remarkably, some of the runners actually accepted these dubious treats and did not throw up. I did not partake. The course was beautiful -- wrapping around the Panhandle, then weaving around the GGP and stretching out to the Great Highway, finally turning back at the entrance to the SF zoo. I did just fine, although I was overambitious in the first eight and a half miles (for which I paid a stiff price in the last five!) My pacer was a woman dressed up as a unicorn, complete with a floppy horn made out of felt. No kidding. It must have been very uncomfortable to run like that! By the way, I saw the front-runner, finishing up the race. Can you imagine, being able to run 13 miles in roughly an hour? Scary. From the look of it, he wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Sold out: half marathoners stampede through the GGP

Here's the course route. See you all tomorrow. (and don't rush me. I go pretty slowly.)

One hundred writing blogs.

Thanks to Samuel for sending this in.

In-training for Marathon Number Five

Too late to back out now. For starters, I'll have to conquer a scary-sounding, hilly 13 miler right here in SF in a couple of days. Yikes.

Spammers beware

Lately I have been getting large, smelly piles of Spam in the "bulk file'' section of my Cactuseaters inbox every morning, so I need to institute a brand new policy. Spammers, please read this carefully.

1. From now on, all senders of Spam (messages starting with "dearest,'' people offering me millions of dollars from fake sweepstakes, etc) will be subject to seven years of bad karma.

2. Not only that, but their teeth will turn green, their hair will fall out in ragged clumps and they will have halitosis for the rest of their lives.

I don't wish to implement this new policy but the Spam has gotten out of hand.

So Spammers, please print out this message and put it somewhere close to your computer terminal and read it before you send.

Swap books and hang out with Stephen Elliott

Tomorrow in the Haight.

Read these too...updated yet again

R. Crumb's Genesis will make your eyes bug out. I've heard people describe it as irreverent, while other people say its literal-mindedness is a form of reverence. You'll have to decide for yourself. It's best taken one small bit at a time. I don't advise plowing through the whole thing at once. I loved At Swim, Two Birds by Flann O'Brien, nee Bryan O'Nolan. What a riot. To read this book is to find yourself caught up in an elaborate prank. Sometimes you're in on the prank. Other times, the joke's on you. This novel feels very contemporary, so it's a shocker to look at the publication date. I also enjoyed Flannery, by Brad Gooch. Flannery O'Connor once said, "As for biographies, there won't be any biographies of me because, for only one reason, lives spent between the house and the chicken yard do not make exciting copy.'' She was wrong for once. The Gutenberg Elegies by Sven Birkerts provides great insight into the fallout from new technologies "at the expense of the printed word.'' And the weird thing is, it was published back in 1994!! Joe Queenan is best known for his hilariously nasty essays and reviews, but he's turned out an excellent memoir, Closing Time, which has much more pathos than his usual work, but with moments of guilty hilarity sprinkled in.