The All City Coffee in Pioneer Square...

This happened about a decade ago: I'm in a Greenlake bar with a lady friend—let's call her Petra. Petra is American, has attended the best American schools, traveled all over the world, and speaks French. We are drunk and saying one drunk thing after another. These are the good times. All of sudden, a group of African men (four or so) walk into the establishment and order drinks from the bar. They are laughing and speaking in a strange language. Petra, who is white, turns to me and says: "Why do African men have the worst taste in shoes? Even in Paris, I noticed this. African men completely crash when it comes to choosing shoes." I look at the shoes of the African men at the bar—indeed, they are all wearing ugly shoes (over-designed with an Italian name). I look at my own shoes—they are hardly better (my mother bought them for me in a Gaborone store that claimed to have the latest from Rome—"This is my eldest son, make him look good, sissy").

This happened a few days ago: I'm sitting in All City Coffee in Pioneer Square. The sun is streaming through the windows, trains are exiting and entering the tunnel, a very black African walks into the cafe—Africans cannot miss other Africans in this outpost of the western world. Even now, after all of this time between the present and Petra, I want to see what kind of shoes the African is wearing—they turn out to be pretty handsome. Is this a sign of progress? African men are finally realizing that gaudy shoes with Italian names are not the keys to success? Or is this one an anomaly? The African ordered a cup of something complex.

The Quality Inn near the Seattle Center...
This has to be one of the ugliest hotels in the city, which is appropriate because the reason why I'm here is for a public meeting concerning the unpleasant (and unfinished) business of Hanford's radioactive mess. State officials are talking to citizens. The citizens are getting hot; the state officials are maintaining their cool. I notice the carpet.

Southbound on the viaduct...
Someone's beautiful ship has arrived on a beautiful day.