Cold gray morning today. Me and Steve, blasting across Atherton to RWC and back. The bridge is still out on Barry Lane, no getting through there with anything except hip boots and ladders. Polhemus was a smooth ride, Park was a pretty nice sprint past the Circus Club, resurfaced not too long ago.
Marina was at the farmer's market, watching her son Greg play guitar in the Peninsula School bluegrass band. Those kids are good. One girl sang a song she wrote, accompanying herself on guitar. It was poignant and her voice, while young, had a sinewy unusual quality that might turn out to be something special. A bit like Lucinda Williams must have sounded, when she was 15.
Marina's husband asked about my skates, "It has a lot to do with the surface, doesn't it?" I told him, it's *all* about the surface.