Working On That
Sunday. To bed as mentioned before ten, up at seven-thirty without the alarm. Or was it seven? More than two hours ago, the memory is already confused. Still, up and out the door to breakfast and back, the sky overcast, what I'm assuming is a decent day ahead. Yesterday was a long tiring day, but somewhat tiring in the endurance sense, not the fuzzy headed sense. A good attitude during the day, no real need to take a nap. So good, I'm guessing. Might as well say good if you have to guess.
I had an interesting lunch at a Korean restaurant I often eat at when I'm over in Japantown taking photographs. A seafood tofu bubbling crock pot with all the usual Korean side dishes. Kimchi (haven't had it for a while), bean sprouts, what looked like pickled spinach and others I couldn't identify at all. Filling without being overfilled. I sound like an advertisement.
Again, the photographs were meager. There was a main stage where they were having traditional dances and such. There were about a berzillon people taking pictures that I generally avoid joining. Hard to take an original picture of people performing on stage, although I've had some luck in the past. Better to take candid photos of people waiting to go on stage. And yes, primarily of younger reasonably attractive women, but I'll not apologize for that. Besides, most all women I meet anymore are younger, the older ones are too wise and stay inside.
One adventure of note was on the 38 Geary bus coming back. Getting on the Geary bus on Broadway is at the beginning of the route and even then it's crowded, although you can still get a seat. Coming back is hopeless, the buses packed like sardines in articulated cans and I found a place standing up with back pack and camera over the shoulder. Felt fine, don't think I was sending out signals I was tired or about to crumble, but an Asian woman - looked to be in her forties or fifties - tugged at my sleeve and offered me her seat. I said no thanks, but thanks. She was quite adamant, but then gave up. The first time someone's offered me a seat on a bus, old man that I am. There's always a first.
I vaguely remember someone else doing it some time back.
This was the first time it stood out. She felt for whatever reason I needed a seat (for my age, I assume, and not my good looks). There were plenty of other people sitting, many teenagers and men and women in their early twenties, and they paid no attention, but some evidently still do follow what I guess is now the old code and she was one. I've gotten up from a seat when an older person (or younger, if they look a little wobbly) gets on the bus to make the seat available, have gotten up once or twice to offer my seat when someone who looked a bit frail or tired was standing by, but mostly people don't do it anymore on buses.
Perhaps, as a youngster, under the old rules, you'd be doomed to be always standing, no matter how many seats may have been empty when you first got on, as the bus will inevitably fill up and you're then out of luck. As they certainly do fill up on the 38 Geary in San Francisco. I don't think I have any heartfelt judgements here, although someone clearly hobbling will get me up to ask. Unless I'm really, really tired, of course. And even then. (And feel good about it, what the hell: patting myself on the back and internally smirking like an ass).
You do go on.
Later. Oh, dear. There seem to be as many as fifteen photographs I could use for another Cherry Blossom Festival section on artandlife. Fifteen is short by six. And fifteen is probably being more aggressive than I should, but fifteen I feel I could post. Which means another trip to Japantown in addition to the parade in front of the City Hall next Saturday, which means I go today or next Sunday. Maybe today? I feel pretty good. But no. Another week is time enough.
You don't want to mix the parade photographs with the street festival photographs? It's all part of the same event.
So far not. I really wasn't aware of the street festival when I first started shooting the parade forming up in front of City Hall. I assumed they marched to Japantown and did whatever parades did when they arrived at their destinations. Silly thing to think. Or not think. Many of the parades have festivals of some kind at their ends, I'm just too tired to follow them to wherever they are. But today or next Sunday. I might.
Late afternoon. A walk in the early afternoon to make a deposit and then a withdrawal at the ATM over on Lakeview, turning left then to head for Grand over the Mandana hill. Puff, puff. Well, no puffs really, the back of the legs feeling it a bit, but not too much out of breath and recovering quickly when I reached the top. Which I'm assuming is good, given how the one or two other people walking up the hill across from me were doing, but it's easy to kid yourself. Puff.
Anyway, some jittery vision things going on all while since I started walking, not the full blown double vision stuff, but more background static from various eye and body parts, not quite having their morning act together yet. Old guy talk. Better now that I'm home, but something to note. And note again, from our little history with it.
A decent lunch at the usual place - ice cream, mixed fruit and coffee - a walk then taking my time back along Grand. A picture or two because that's what I do, one or two of which seem to work.
Guitar and whatever's on television for the rest of the afternoon, probably a start on a Cherry Blossom Festival artandlife section, I'm sure I'll give a shot at attending again next Sunday after Saturday's parade. For all my complaining, the need for a couple of decent pictures still seems to break through my objections. We'll see next week.
Evening. More futzing with the photographs. It seems I have fourteen photographs I'm willing to include in the Cherry Blossom Festival page, so another seven would round it out. In looking at last year's photographs, enough for two full sections, I had to return for a second day of shooting to finish out the first, going on to come up with a second, so we're in the same place on the same learning curve.
More time working with the old Dykes on Bikes photographs. I'm to the point I'm going to scan some new ones this week and see if I can't come up with another section to add to the early years of 1998 through 2002. Hup again. We're hot.
And the guitar?
We're working on that.