27 November 2005
I went to Ocean Beach to go running on the most beautiful Saturday on the beach in SF I've seen yet. It was warm, sunny, and clear -- even on the beach itself. As I made my way down to the water to begin running, I passed an elderly couple. They had brought out beach chairs and beach umbrellas, and were sitting reading the paper in full street clothes. As I got closer, I could see that the newspaper they were reading was in Russian. Suddenly I flashed to their story: elderly Jewish refugees from the Soviet Union, I could hear them saying in the strong Eastern European accent: "Yah, whatever. Beachs in Russia, Beachs in Georgia, beaches in San Francisco. We've seen 'em all, and they're all the same, they're all good places to read the newspapah."