End of a superlative day. I made the peace rally, with Jim the Elder, and marched on my own, the whole route. Then I worked seven quiet hours. Of course, my feet are murdering me. The opening of the anti-occupation rally was discouraging, but unsurprising. The crowd was sparse, compared to the pre-war demonstrations. Beyond the post-invasion frustration, this one was happening the same day as the last Giants game before playoffs, the SF Blues Festival, and that annual fetishists' delight, the Folsom Street Fair. I bought a "Books not Bombs" button and Jim replaced his lost beloved peace sign button for his satchel. Still, once the march got started, the people really got energies and the motivation was helped greatly by the Brass Liberation Orchestra. Man, that marching band swung. I heard probably the best rendition of The Internationale from them. I was somewhat unnerved by the chants for "Long live the Intifada!" but I did join in a few rounds of "Whose Streets?" It's amazing to know that I have done four of these marches in a row. But next time, what will probably be my last march in San Francisco, I will make my own sign, dammit.