Journeys 3.1

I’m familiar with the prep for today’s PSMA PET scan. A technician is about to inject the radioactive tracer, which comes in a heavy radiation-shielded syringe. The tracer binds to a specific antigen on the surface of prostate cancer cells, emitting positrons that the scanner converts into a reasonably detailed image. It’s an expensive test, but I didn’t hesitate to ask for it at this point in my journey, and I’m grateful my insurance agrees.

Today is National Punctuation Day, a great day to walk to our local movie theater and meet two friends for the 4:00 p.m. (and only) showing of the documentary “Rebel With a Clause.” (In the UK the period is placed outside the quote.) Nearly every seat was taken by people who presumably care about the Oxford comma, possessive apostrophes, and the difference between “further” and “farther.” Highly recommended!

My cycle ride took me past the annoying Pioneers Monument, which whitewashes our history. The Park Board has finally responded to feedback from many people, including me, that it is offensive and untruthful. They are now deciding the best way to dispose of it. My choice would be reusing the stone. Occasionally, people throw red paint at it, which explains the red residue.

On a walk with a friend, we came across The Bell of Two Friends sculpture, which neither of us had noticed before. It’s a large-scale half-mold replica of an ancient Japanese dōtaku, a clapperless bronze ritual bell from Japan’s Yayoi period 2,000 years ago, based on an original found in Minneapolis’s twin city of Ibaraki, Japan. A hanging cord operates a functional bell, which we both rang for good luck.

Outside, it was grey and chilly. Sure, 50°F isn’t freezing, but it feels cold after our recent stretch of sunny days. Spyhouse Coffee at the downtown Emory Hotel provided a cozy refuge as I sipped my morning cuppa. Located in a repurposed 1906 bank building, the hotel has lovely spaces to kick back and relax.

​We both filled out our ballots, front and back, for the November midterms. Since the US Postal Service can no longer be trusted, we’ll hand-deliver our ballots to a city office this week and check online to confirm they’re officially logged.

On my walk to Seward Co-op to pick up veggies for a lamb braise, I stepped back in time to the counterculture 1970s for a cuppa in this worker-owned vegan cafe. The double-shot Americano with a full crema was near-perfect: $3, cash-only. Angry rock filled the air, though a surprisingly sedate rendering of the British national anthem added an unexpected layer of incongruity.