The Pacific Coast fog instantly shrouds a summer evening in a damp, cold blanket of air. This was true last night as we stood on a darkened San Francisco street watching a thick wall of the stuff waft up the hill. A gusty wind sent clouds of moisture up the incline, as if a wet November storm had blown ashore. In northern California, the heavy fog can leave just as quickly as it arrives. This was the case Wednesday night as we gathered for a candlelight vigil to support Cindy Sheehan, the current spark of the anti-war movement. The air was clear, and so were the 300 marchers who paraded up The Alameda from the Holy Redeemer Lutheran Church to the Hwy 880 overpass. America's moral compass has gone astray, and activists like those who held burning candles and waved signs had an obligation to bring us back on course. The nation deserves more than a leadership willing to use lies to justify war, in the processes sacrificing more than 1,800 US troops and tens of thousands of innocent Iraqi civilians. To us, the Iraqi War was a fight that didn't have to be and a struggle that wasted the lives of American soldiers for no noble purpose. Bush has belatedly justified the venture as an effort to build democracy. He still hasn't learned that democracy is not built with the barrel of a gun, but over decades of focused work. The trigger-happy Bush Administation believes progress comes through the threat of military force. We know better. America must set an example through its deeds and words, not its guns. On Wednesday, the cold, grey fog receded. In the clear evening light, we could see candles burning.

Sunday, Aug. 13, volunteering at St. Anthony's in San Francisco. Today was a penetrating experience. St. Anthony is in the heart of the Tenderloin, the area of San Francisco most infested with drifters, homeless drunks, itnerant crazies and drug users with matted hair and soiled clothing. And they all come for lunch on Saturday. We fed them 2,600 meals of turkey and stuffing, with cookies, cake, kool-aid, salad and bread - and a second plate. It was tiring and we 30 or so volunteers were exhausted. But we all felt good about helping, especially a group so obviously down on their luck. We also felt - I was not the only one to admit to it - quite a bit uneasy at being emersed in so ragged a crowd.

St. Anthony's is Franciscan, I believe, efficient, low budget and geared toward serving people instead of redeeming them. Thank god for that. Starting at about 11 am on Saturday, the line forms outside the soup kitchen door, and within 30 minutes it extends down the block, around the corner and down the next block. Everyone waits patiently for their chance to come inside and eat. (I saw just one scuffle.) It's quite the operation, and without it, many of these people would no where to turn.

It was not a threatening atmosphere for us. Many of them are very polite, some in wheel chairs, other with cains, most with tattered, thrift-shop clothing and dirty old bags with which they cart their belongings. Some read books, joked with their friends, and most appreciate that we are volunteers doing them a favor. But it is a world alien to most of us and we felt strange and apart from it. I found myself not wanting to brush up against filthy clothes and uneager to get close enough to smell their bodies. I chatted with a few, but we had little to talk about. At one point, the stale, stuffy air - a combination of food smells, dish water from the nearby kitchen and unwashed clothing - almost made me dizzy and nauseous. Even now, hours later, I am a bit queasy. I was glad to have gone, but moved. As I said, it was a penetrating experience.



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Time to get started. My first blog. I thought I would tell you about Sunday, a busy day, a very busy day indeed. I first had to get presents for the twins (my borthers kids, going on 12). I found one a watercolor set - very nice. I have no idea what to get the other. After that, I wrote for an hour before racing off to Zoe's barbeque. Of course I stayed too long. So at 3 pm I realized I was late and it was off the beach where Julie had planned an afternoon picnic. The fog came in and we froze. But it was a fun freeze. Then it was off to the office to file a quick piece on Macromedia. Then home to dinner. That was Sunday.