I like sirens. Cop cars and fire trucks screaming by me on the street thrill me in some deep down odd spot.
I find the odor of skunks kind of pleasant. Not enough that I would buy skunk scented candles, but still. And it’s a lucky thing, too, since we share the canyon we live in with packs of polecats and every year about this time I’ll wake up in the middle of the night with that distinctive smell wafting in through the open windows. Mmm.
Even though I am a very picky eater (I hate raw onions, I don’t like lamb, I always pass on candy with nuts in it) I adore beets and liver, two of the least popular food products known to man. Liver is just part of my fascination with edible internal organs: sweet breads, kidneys, tongue, bring ‘em on. I draw the line at tripe, though, since that is just too far down in the alimentary canal and it smells like it.
There is an escalator coming up out of the BART Civic Center platform that has a small bump under the handrail. As you’re gliding up into the thrilling carnival of downtown San Francisco, the bump makes a small, pleasant thump under your hand. I always make a point of using that escalator.
I’m too near-sighted to have one for vision. My whole day to day goal is to not bump into anything.