The Beach

I headed to San Fran's Ocean Beach today on my day off. Or maybe to be more precise I should say that I went to the beach because I am currently not "employed". Whatever.

At the end of the MUNI train line, next to the beach, is the San Francisco Zoo. I decided to take a look. I'm sure that, as the only guy by himself in the parking lot without a kid on a work day, I looked like a man involved in behaviors that are generally frowned upon by "society". Also, it couldn't have helped when I stood in front of the ticket window for almost five minutes, eyes glazed with my mouth agape, while a fierce internal debate raged over whether it was worth it to pay 11 dollars to see a bunch of large animals suffer heat strokes. In the end, it wasn't, and I took these pictures through the fence:







After a short hike over the "Great Highway", I was at the beach.



The weather was perfect, and the sand was glistening with glisten:



There is a very interesting Wikipedia article about Ocean Beach, which basically reiterates what I have been told many times: Ocean Beach is a death trap. With a wicked (I am becoming Californian!) rip-tide, freezing waters, and probably a bunch of sharks, only crazy people swim and surf here. Like these brave people:



And the Hasselhoffs are always ready if someone like me is stupid enough to go for a dip:



It was pretty dead at the beach today, probably because it was a Tuesday, but there were a ton of fishermen there on business:



Perhaps the saddest thing I saw all day, and this includes when I tripped in the park and spilled most of my Fierce™®© Strawberry Gatorade, was this:





The press was crawling all over the place, and the detectives said they suspected possible foul play. One man who approached me to discuss the case, the resident beach marine biologist/homeless dude, postulated that this poor creature had grown tired of the burden of its student loans, and OD'd on seagulls. I can respect its decision.

Next Time (and probably the times after that): Burritos!