I have been combining these pleasant runs with unpleasant errands. Today the errand involved finally getting myself to cancel membership to the gym that I haven't visited in two years, and whose management has been nothing but unhelpful in allowing me to cancel. Yesterday the errand was returning a pair of black Prada pumps whose right heel fell off to Neiman Marcus, and then making a deposit of cash into a Wells Fargo ATM that proceeded to eat up my envelope without giving me a receipt.

There is nothing like a good run to put the unpleasant in perspective. It's not like there is a shortage of things to look at in San Francisco. Perhaps I was suffering from an overdose of technology. The most beautiful things in this world, it seems to me, are high-tech by natural design.

Take Potrero Hill. Filled with "community gardens and community playgrounds, the neighborhood has a hippie appeal . . . albeit one with a decidedly wealthy underpinning (how else would the "community" be able to afford so many nice community gardens with such nice community views? ). Nevermind the commercialism behind the communalism. Look up at the skies, not down at the expensive cars on the street, and the vistas are spectacular.

Most spectacular of all, however, are the sea lions who live near Pier 39. It was hard to believe that it took me a run down to the Embarcadero (from the Mission) to re-visit them after about five years of going without their company.

In enjoying the sea lions, I was not alone. The crowds gathered to watch them lounge on the pilings near the Pier were a testimonial to the triumph of natural beauty over San Francisco's sometimes spectacular modern architecture.

Sadly, the crowds of humans this time, unlike five years ago, also dwarfed the number of sea lions themselves. Where did all the sea lions go? Dead, died off, with a tragedy of commons, and no one having cash left over after buying their expensive designer planes to give one shit for their well being.