Reflections from San Fran (... I mean, Oakland)

Last night, my plane flew by a lightning storm. It was one of the most amazing sights I have yet to see in my short life. It reminded me of one of those fantasy drawings you never think could be real.

Strange conversations had with strangers today while walking with Lana in Oakland and Berkeley:

~"Where are your wings?"
~"Is today a good Friday?"
~"Did you know Rick James is dead? Do you even know who he is?"
~(while walking by a man gardening) "Do you want to work?"

What is it with these people? I've never had so many random people talk to me on the street. In a bar, maybe, but never in the street.