Could I Not?
Monday. While I was walking by the Oakland City Hall last Thursday I took a picture of a cherry tree near the entrance stairs that was beginning to blossom and noted, when I looked at it in PhotoShop, that it was overexposed and that I should have reduced the exposure by a stop. I photographed the same tree today, probably not the same cluster of blossoms, but with the exposure properly reduced with the idea of comparing them. Interesting to see how many more blossoms are evident in just the last four days. When do cherry trees traditionally begin to blossom in the Spring here in the Bay Area? The San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival starts, I believe, in another three weeks. How long do the blossoms last? A little global warming here?
None of that global warming crap.
Be interesting to see what the San Francisco blossoms are doing when I photograph the Festival Parade on April 20th.
Tuesday. Walked over to breakfast and back around nine, up at eight, to bed last night before midnight. Pretty hot stuff for a Tuesday morning, I know, but I suspect dear reader you can handle it. Errands to run, laundry to do, some cleaning to think about around the apartment. It's like putting your head outside of a car window at speed in winter: the experience exhilarating.
An exclamation point is needed after exhilarating. Don't you think?
Now who's being a smart ass?
Back now after faxing a change in prescription providers to my doctor, the letter I sent last week having been lost somewhere at their office. Good to have gotten this done. Let us not talk of doctors, Schedule D prescriptions and their related paperwork, however. Not fun for them, not fun for me. Or you, I would suspect.
I don't remember much of what I listened to on the radio or watched on television when I was very young in the late forties. I Love a Mystery (with Jack, Doc and Reggie) I remember from the radio. Scared the hell out of me. And there was a Gene Autry serial where he (and his sidekicks) got themselves lost inside a mountain where a straight out of science fiction advanced race of some kind (led by a rather attractive woman) was fending off evil scientists who were bent on exploiting the radium deposits the mountain dwellers were sitting on. Sitting in.
Gene Autry, the singing cowboy, versus visitors from outer space in other words. Or, if not from outer space, then folks with robots and the advanced magic technology of 1930's movie serials mixing it up inside a mountain out on the range with cowboys (with guitars). The New York Times reviewed a recently released DVD The Phantom Empire this morning, a black and white 1935 twelve episode serial, evidently Autrey's first staring roll in a film, and boy howdy does it sound like that vaguely remembered set of (vaguely disturbing) images seen on TV in the days of my (extreme) youth. How good is that? A glimpse into your barely remembered psyche for something like twelve bucks. So I ordered it. Of course. How could I not?