The Bay Bridge looms out the window and seagulls fly overhead in the blue fogless sky. On the right side of the train you can see the red brick of the old warehouses, reborn in the new media explosion as hip cafes and restaurants. Then, on the left, the new ballpark rises out of the bay like it was transplanted out of another era. It fills me with a strange sense of civic pride, even though I voted against its building two years ago. Everyone in the train seems to perk up like thirsty plants after a good soak.
People look around, make eye contact, and smile.
You can feel everyone thinking it. Maybe this Monday morning won't be so bad after all. I applaud, silently, for the magician.