The Sole Proprietor is sitting at his computer this Thursday morning feeling good. If you'd asked him Monday how he'd feel on this day he wouldn't have known, but had been prepared to feel cranky and upset recuperating from an operation on his palate.

He'd been told he faced an unpleasant recovery period with a king size sore throat. So far, a sore throat, but not so bad. He's been sitting here sipping medicines. Not bad. Not bad at all. Not to compare, he assumes, to having your wisdom teeth removed. Or your head.

Telegraph Street Fair 1997This is a shot of a mannequin's head at a street fair held last year near Berkeley. The Sole Proprietor is fond of these, notice the measurement lines, a bit Frankensteinish, but haunting as well, and he photographs any he finds. The nose metal probably means this lady is dressed for a younger crowd.

Telegraph Street Fair 1997.

These were some of the first photos taken by the Sole Prop after he bought his camera. He was approached by two different people while shooting these sidewalk drawings and asked if he would give them his card so that they might buy some of the photos he was taking. Wow, he thought, just like that. You buy a camera, shoot some pictures and people ask to buy them. He didn't have a card, but he took their names and numbers.

Now the Sole Prop has never contacted those people to arrange copies of the photographs and, you know, time is passing. Over a year. There are lots of good reasons for not getting back: The photos aren't good enough, its been a bad hair year, he didn't get enough shots of the cute little kids. Bass player and upstairs neighbor.

And this would be OK if the Sole Proprietor didn't know up front, let alone deep down, that a promise made is a promise kept. You don't say you'll do something and then not do it. Not for the reasons above, anyway. If you say yes, I'll get you pictures, then you get them pictures.

The photograph of Jeff Rolka taken at Club Kaos in October 1997 was one example of a picture taken and delivered, but the picture of Mary G. taken at the Rockridge BART station for whatever number of reasons was never sent. The Sole Proprietor really didn't like the job he'd done on the shot (learning something for the next time), but the lady was a very nice and intelligent person who deserved better.

So. Sitting here recovering from his little adventure at Stanford Hospital, he's going to get the slides and negatives together that Mary G. met at BART station. he's promised to one and another, get some prints made and send them. Really.

Or, and he kind of likes this one better, he's going to make a resolution and say no to the next person who asks. I know, I know. The young woman who was kind enough to run naked through Jack London Square three times pushing the baby carriage and getting sun burned and pieces of gravel in her left foot to boot while the Sole Proprietor got the pictures right, probably deserves a print. That morning run was more than you can usually ask of a complete stranger. But the next time he's going to say no.

Beam me back,