a day at the INS today/tomorrow. *shudder* oh well, good excuse to write either a Chekhovian, or a Kafkaesque, weblog. we'll see, neh? oh! wait... *ding! lightbulb flashes on in head* bright idea: actually, it would be a GREAT way to write up this day by talking about Greed (aka Giancarlo Pineda ... see 5thdeadlysin right there on the left!) one of the most anti-establishment kids I've met in a long, long time. here he is (well, his first graffiti art piece at least):

why talk about someone who's "anti-establishment" in the context of the INS? well, for anyone with half an observant brain, the Immigration and Naturalization Service is, along with the IRS, one of the most disdained branches of the US government. i'm not sure why this is since, on one hand, immigration is the sine qua non without which this amazing country would not, and could not, exist. therefore, it stands to reason that the institution that handles immigration ought to be a paragon of virtue and excellence. on the other hand, it's widely known that this institution is, in fact, a nightmare of red tape and bureaucratic bungling on a large scale, a hurdle which millions of immigrants over the last few decades have known intimately and well indeed.

(1:30 a.m. ... halt -- to be continued tomorrow... as my cousin Aaron is telling me something intensely important, and i need to focus.) also, i decided to write on Greed in a separate story entirely...

12:45 p.m. downtown Oakland, City Center
at a Kinko's internet node...

charming. after sitting for about an hour and a half at a dark, gloomy antechamber at the SF office of the INS, my name is finally called. i dash in the very last answer to today's NY Times crossword puzzle (medium difficulty, and with a fun Shakespeare theme), and walk casually up to the immigration officer. only to be told that my file has been forwarded to Oakland. grrrr. oh well, i'm glad to be rid of this building, which, inside, feels like a relic from the 50s and 60s (as i am, haha). nothing digital here, nothing remotely reminding me that i am at the dawn of the next millennium. just paper, and a distinctly attic-ish smell. something is moldy here, and it ain't the people, folks.

so anyway, i carry out this experiment: walking down to the Embarcadero BART from the INS building (a distance of about 8 city blocks), I try to see if there are any public telephones along the street. and, believe it or not, there is not a single one. (i'm looking for a phone, because i need to be calling Jorge now, to tell him that i won't be able to make it at noon today, but that i shall be going back to the city later, and perhaps dinner will be the order of the day at La Corneta in the Mission.) everywhere around me, people are on cellphones [Aaron, where are you when I need you? ;-)]... but NOT a single payphone to be seen. odd! I exclude the BART station from this experiment and continue it at downtown Oakland. same deal. bizarre!

accordingly, i duck on impulse into this Kinko's waystation, which feels light years away from Room 237-C at the INS. everything gleams here, computer monitors abound, there's a buzz in the air that says: welcome back to the 21st century. well, i have to go get something to eat now, and hope that my waiting at the Oakland INS office won't be long. i have fond memories of my citizenship interview, which took place there... Name the principals of the Second World War. I was about to go into this long, historical spiel about the Axis and Allied powers, and was prepared to go into loving detail about the land battles at Monte Cassino and the Rhine, or the titanic sea engagements at Guadalcanal or Midway, but the interviewer cut me off with a wink. ;-)

more later, on the road, if netstations magically present themselves for cooptation. ciao.

1:45 pm. Oakland rules!
not only is the INS office much nicer (also set in an ultra-modern building), the bureaucrats here seemed much more efficient... this Filipino kid , wearing a wrinkle-free blue suit and looking like he was barely older than Tomas Bandong, took my case. in a few minutes, the paperwork was done. sure, the response was 'You'll get a written reply from us in 6-8 weeks.' !! but at least it was quick. well, i gotta go find that same (rare) payphone now and call Jorge back. i think he'll be surprised since i said i might be calling back around 4 p.m. oh well, maybe i'll catch some foreign flick at the Roxie while waiting for him or something. off to La Mission!

{ net.casting }
^