October was chock full of activity, lots of things to talk about at the office water cooler. That is, if people still had jobs to go to at the office. Popular topic: Two Northwest Airlines pilots overflew Minneapolis by 150 miles. They may have been asleep. I admire those pilots. I can never sleep on airplanes. … Did you know that every year, donkeys kill more people than plane crashes? “What does that mean?” asks Edwin Heaven. “Never ever, ever fly Donkey Airlines.” … It was hard to escape the Balloon Boy story. The minute people found out the kid was all right they wanted someone to punish. The Balloon Boy’s daddy will pay the price for inventing a hoax. Some hoax. Kid’s stuff, if you will. Here’s a real hoax: the war in Iraq. …
   
October brought a lot of recollections of the Loma Prieta earthquake, 20 years on. Art Agnos told 300 people at Fort Mason’s Cowell Theatre that one of his proudest moments as mayor was to press for the demolition of what Herb Caen called “the Dambarcadero Freeway.” Before that grey monstrosity on the waterfront became our Tectonic Parkway, like the Cypress in Oakland, the Board of Supervisors agreed to tear it down. The measure, Agnos recalled, passed by only one vote. … 
   
There were laughs, but more tears, as 500 mourners celebrated the life of Ray Piccinini at Sts. Peter and Paul on Oct. 7. Ashling Cole sang well and soulfully. Over the years, Ray was a popular waiter at Enrico’s, Jovanello’s and The Stinking Rose. He was equally famous for cheering up sick kids at various hospitals on Easter. After the Mass, a procession of fans, friends and family carried flower arrangements down Columbus to The Stinking Rose for a farewell party. … Jimmy Hamilton, the screenwriter who worked with Sam Peckinpah, and would grace the Washington Square Bar & Grill with his bonhomie, died last month. He was 79. Jimmy was also at times a longshoreman like his old friend, the late Johnny Weissmuller Jr. They were big men in all the right ways. The North Beach literati, including Tony Dingman, Curt Gentry, Ron Fimrite, and Michael McCourt were part of the tribute to Mr. Hamilton at the Sausalito Cruising Club on Oct. 17. One of my favorite lines from Cross of Iron, the movie he wrote for Peckinpah:  “I believe God is a sadist, but probably doesn’t even know it.” Jimmy Hamilton was anything but a sadist. “He was truly one of the kindest men I ever knew,” said a wistful Diane Weissmuller. …
   
Robert Plant was in town for the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass show, but simply had to catch a rugby match on TV while here. He wandered into the Nob Hill neighborhood bar, the Hydeout, and asked Kelly O’Blennis, who was pouring the drinks, how he could see some “English football.” She said it was not usually available. Producing a C-note, he asked if something could be arranged. The next day, Mr. Plant was happy with his rugby and his Tanquerary and tonics, hiding at the Hydeout. Kelly wasn’t quite sure who he was: “I saw an old, ugly guy with a really beautiful young girl, so I figured he had to be somebody.” …
   
There were other water cooler stories from last month. NASA crashed a vehicle the size of an SUV into the moon. I can understand that. What I can’t understand is why Lindsay Lohan was at the controls. … Ernie Beyl says he wants to read Sarah Palin’s new book – as soon as the English translation is available. … Sharon Anderson heard that Tom Cable, head coach of the star-crossed Raiders, is off the hook for an assault charge. “Perhaps he’d be more useful in Afghanistan,” says Sharon. … Rush Limbaugh dropped his effort to be a part owner of the St. Louis Rams. Maybe he found out colored people were on the team. Too bad for Rush. The NFL has access to all those painkillers. … Edwin Heaven muses, “The ultimate irony would be if Michael Vick developed a medical condition which requires an assistance dog.” …
   
The aforementioned Ms. Anderson was in town last month. I was happy to show her some of the brighter spots on a Saturday morning that included Diva’s, the tranny bar in Polk Gulch, and a wonderful breakfast at Little Henry’s Italian Food, 955 Larkin at Post.  Henry and his wife, Jade, are terrific people. Their place in the Tenderloin draws real characters: cops, pensioners, politicos, aging hippies, hustlers, bohunks, and hornswogglers – and some real nice local folks. Jade suggests that all of us come for dinner the night before Thanksgiving to relieve the stress of the holiday. Then come back Thanksgiving Day, too. Last year they served 42 turkeys, and many more people. …
   
Here it is, November. Norm Goldblatt is already thinking of the holidays at the close of this most rewarding year. “It’s like the old Jewish joke,” says Norm. “Grandmother gives the kid two shirts for Hanukkah. He comes downstairs wearing one. Grandmother says, ‘What’s wrong? You don’t like the other one?’”  … Did I mention October also marked 80 years since the big Wall Street crash? And this month (Nov. 18) it will be 100 years since Johnny Mercer was born in Savannah. Lee Lessack and Linda Purl celebrate Mercer’s life of song at the Rrazz Room, Nov. 23–25. Check out www.therrazzroom.com. Mercer wrote: “I should be over it now. I know it doesn’t matter much how old I grow. I hate to see October go.” … I dunno, Johnny. I’m not so sorry to see October go. …

Bruce Bellingham is working on a book with the working title, “The Remorse Code,” where the narrator’s intransigence is only outmatched by his recalcitrance. It will be published in 2050. Or so. Meanwhile you may reach Bellingham at bruce@northsidesf.com