A bit before the end of lunch here.  Blue skies and white caps in San Francisco.  I can see the froth clearly from 14 stories up in the air.  Flags whipping about.  There were leaves, branches, depris shrewn across the bike path on my a.m. commute thanks to the storm.  "It rains on the just and the unjust."  You see them everywhere today, clinging to their collars, shoulders bend toward the wind.  No one likes being pushed around.  But are you a pusher?