Telegraph Avenue around the UC Berkeley campus today was vibrating with vendors and students and workers and visitors and transients. I stood awhile near a man – he may have been Vietnamese – playing a simple hand-crafted string instrument. The music curled about the legs and shoulders of the people as they walked by, the unfamiliar melody like the soundtrack to a movie scene of a brilliant fall day, the stars imbedded within the crowds of extras. Nothing felt ordinary.
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