Zerk unleashed

Last weekend, as Dad and I crossed the Bay to Breakers finish line at Ocean Beach in San Francisco, we came upon a a figure so familiar to me I knew exactly what his next three words would be: "Happy, happy, happy." Yes, it was the Happy Happy Happy man, who spends every day perched atop an overturned bucket where Telegraph meets the Berkeley campus holding aloft a sign littered with conspiracy theories and rants against Bush as he chants the slogan from whence he earned his name (and said with a tinge of scorn, at least to my ears): "Happy, happy, happy." During graduation week, Julia's parents actually engaged with HHH guy, which is virtually unheard of, and he added something about "happy, happy, happy parents" to his usual routine. What was strange was to see this guy all the way over at Ocean Beach, with his bucket, since to me he belongs on the fringe of the Cal campus, in more ways than one.

And then today, I was doing some work in Au Coquelet, when I noticed another fixture on the Berkeley campus -- Yoshua man -- sitting at the table behind me. He was quietly highlighting his Bible, and taking miniscule notes on a scrap of paper, but his day job is wearing a blue T-shirt inscribed with "YOSHUA," yelling (can you guess this part?) "YOSHUAAAAAAAA!" as he wanders around Sproul Plaza, occasionally stopping to tell passersby that they're going to hell. It took all my strength when I saw Yoshua guy at the cafe not to stop and say: "Hey! Yoshua guy! YOSHUAAAAAAAAA!" Another maniacally talkative elderly gentleman passed by Yoshua guy's table and said: "What are you reading? Oh NO, not... RELIGION!!" and hightailed it out of there.

It's weird to feel some kind of proprietary bond to two guys I take pains to avoid, but I guess that's one of Berkeley's particular draws...