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At a watering hole in San Francisco. Or maybe Oakland.

Under here.

January 16, 2009

His Own Juices
Friday. Up about an hour later than has been the norm, walking to breakfast, walking back, the sun out, the day warm. God is in her heaven doing her nails getting ready for the weekend. Time, methinks, for a nap. We all prepare in our disparate and various ways for good times coming on the morrow. Coming today and tomorrow, but today after my nap.

Later. A bus ride downtown, a walk around the area. I needed to get out of the apartment, but couldn't think of anywhere I wanted to go. The temperature is balmy, t-shirt weather, a walk through the City Center and the Federal Building to the condominiums currently under construction. Nice. I wonder if they're having problems now, if they'll to be able to sell them at a profit in this market, if there's room for bottom feeders like me to make a score? Again, nice, but do I want to spend my declining years here? Nothing tells me I do. I suspect I could find a more comfortable place with all kinds of room if I checked out the coast: a small town, no thoughts whatsoever of living in the suburbs, I live in fear of the suburbs. I incessantly talk about this, do I not, the idle thoughts of an old fart flailing about in his own juices?

I mentioned the “how to frame a picture” books I received this week, one of which, at least, seems pretty straightforward, so I've looked at framing equipment starter kits on the web and I've found myself tempted to push one of the magic little “buy me” buttons just as a voice whispered: “read the damned book(s) before buying, dumbo! Get a clue!” And reason has prevailed. Read the books, buy the damned equipment and then frame some prints. I can walk away from it, if I want, but first frame say twenty or so photographs in various clever ways to know I've given it a chance.

I have a light weight work bench in a storage locker I once used for model making, painting and the like. It would make a work surface for picture framing as well. I even have a space to put it (something of a miracle around here, let me tell you), but I have to read that book first. Right? Sitting here writing this I'm wondering if I'll actually do it, but making a rule I have to read the book(s), take notes, think clearly about it might make it happen in the way it should. I have used framing kits. Lots of kits. I have half a dozen waiting to be used sitting right here in the living room. It's not some thought that just came to me last night. (More idle thoughts of an old fart flailing about in his own juices.)

You sound like someone talking themselves into it. You happen to luck into some money recently and you're looking for ways to blow it. Haven't you been following the economy? Don't you know what's going to happen when inflation comes looking for pay back?

Life is short, no time to spend it as an old fart flailing about in his own juices. (Whatever that means.)

The photograph was taken at a Chevys restaurant in the Hilltop Mall with a Nikon D2Xs mounted with a 105mm f2.0 Nikkor lens at 1/20th second, f 2.0, ISO 800.