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San Francisco Gay Pride Parade

July 14th, 2000

Cat Year Thirties
One last going away lunch for my now ex-manager, forty people at Le Cheval, a Vietnamese restaurant in Oakland with a large high ceiling room, reasonably good food, good prices and located one short block from the office. This time I brought a strobe and shot a roll of film. Haven't done this in a while and maybe, if I'd been thinking, I'd have brought something called a Stroboframe that holds the flash up higher above the camera to better manage shadows. That and a diffuser doohickey I've had good luck with in the past. Not thinking again, maybe, but the settings were right, I kept an eye out for too bright or reflecting backgrounds and the camera has an internal computer that takes care of the rest.

I shot slides, but I'll have prints made later when I get them back. I'm happy enough with print film, it has advantages, a greater exposure latitude than slides and it's very forgiving when you overexpose, something that slide film is not, but since most local print processors are spotty, I occasionally get back prints that superficially look good, but the negatives are crap. Most people get their prints and never use the negatives again, never blow them up or scan a section of a negative to make that section into a full size photograph. So nobody notices sloppy spotty (as in little spots on the negatives) work. So nobody complains. So there's no incentive to do better. So you've got to be careful.

Odd day, odd week perhaps. I've had good energy and urges to begin new projects. This turmoil at the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade company with friends leaving and strangers arriving does get to me, but there are other times, and today was one of them, when the challenge looks interesting and the world seems filled with possibilities. Or is that just some more of the ebb and flow? One day you're up and another you're not? Was I this way when I was younger? Yeah. Probably. I just didn't write it down or think about it. Too many sugar donuts for breakfast in my thirties and forties, maybe, except I don't think I ate sugar donuts for breakfast in my thirties and forties. I don't remember what I ate for breakfast. Did I even eat breakfast? That's weird. Do people forget what they ate for breakfast during whole decades of their lives? I guess I do.

It's thirty-five minutes into Saturday. Wuss has been wandering in and out through the glass door onto the patio and meowing like a lost soul. Is he hungry? Has he totally lost it? Is he too trying to remember what he had for breakfast during that seven human year to one cat year blur of his thirties and forties? Hard to say. I sympathize. I hope the neighbors do too, soulful heart rending cat meows in the night just under their sliding glass door bedroom windows as they sleep. If they sleep.

The photographs were taken at the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade. The quote under The Sole Proprietor title is from The Blues Brothers.