August 26th. Cucumber Soup. Steak and avocado salad.

Another bowl of cucumber soup for a very late lunch.

Late lunch followed by an early dinner. I'd bought a tiny New York steak  on sale at Ralph's last week.  I  pan-grilled it (is that the term?), and tossed it into a  quick salad of romaine lettuce,  avocados and tomatoes.

I eaten early  because a)I was hungry and b)I was planning to hear the Standards around 6pm at the coffee shop next to Vidiots.

As I stepped out my door, a young woman, tearful and panicked leaned over the gate.  "Call the police!" she shouted.  "He's crazy."  As she ran to the porch, I dialed 911.  My phone responded by turning into a red-illuminated microphone (could this be true?  I think so).  The woman, who was house-sitting next door, was in a complete state.  Her boyfriend had thrown her to the floor and broken a table.  Was he still around?  I wasn't sure.  It was late Sunday afternoon.  Each Sunday, thousands gather on the beach at the foot of our street for an enormous drum circle.  To keep an eye on things, there are generally many police, in cars, on foot, bicycles and sometimes horses in the immediate vicinity.  Surely one, or two or three of them could stop by.  But, my temporary neighbor wasn't sure if she wanted the police.  There were two young teen-agers holding boogie boards and looking frightened and confused in the front yard.  A man soon showed up.  He was not the boyfriend, but a friend who was visiting with his sons.  He told me there was just a mis-understanding and nothing to be concerned about.  I kept the police on the phone.  I did not want to be the person to report that all was well at the moment chaos might ensue.  Soon, another woman arrived and hugged the first woman.  Everyone told me that things were under control and assured me there would be no trouble.  A dog had also gotten away during the fracas, so there was much hysteria on many fronts.  At the time, it didn't seem like there was a need for the police.   I relayed this information to the police dispatcher, got on my bike and rode off to hear music.

I arrived just as The Standards, Mike, Ryan and Dennis  were packing up their instruments.  I made my apologies, complete with lengthy narrative of 911 intervention.  They urged me to stay on to hear the next band--The Painkillers--and I did.  They were terrific (Ryan got to play harmonica and sing a bit with them).  They had some of their own songs, but mostly sang blues, old folk, Dylan, etc.  It was a complete treat.  I was as happy as can be, biking home with lights flashing after the show.