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A Friday after work photo

November 3rd, 2002

Doesn't Vary Much
I've been looking at some of the local Bumptown blogs and journals I've found through All About George and rawl. "Bumptown" I stole from Gwen. I don't know if that's the local slang for Oakland or not, but it has a sound to it. Bumptown, Boomtown, Browntown, bust. Lots of laid off web techies around with time and talent on their hands. I myself expect to have time on my hands in another couple of weeks.

There are a dozen or so established journals that have been on line since the Eisenhower administration and they will go on forever, but the journals that started around the time I started have been falling by the wayside. They are nourishing other needs, following other visions, the reasons for keeping a journal understood, resolved, time to get a life and move along. The only ones of us left are the permanent fixtures and the slow learners. I am both and unapologetic. So maybe I should put my head up and look around. See what's going on. Bumptown. Or bust.

The prostate will be resolved one way or another by the end of the month. Take it out,A Friday after work photo check it out, see if I've one: survived the operation; two: has it spread; and, three: what does the prostate say about my prospects for the future? Was all of it contained inside? A certain background blood pumping beat wondering whether it will show up again in the next test. The old drum, drum, drum. Whether I spend the rest of my life wetting my bed or not, whether I can still get it up or not are considerations for later when there's time to mess my head with the minor stuff. Strange how priorities change. A time for taking stock, I think, and I am an expert at taking stock. I am a fucking neurotic about taking stock. I've developed taking stock to an art form, rich colored swirls of bilge on screen and paper. I am an artist.

The local public radio station is back on the Internet, by the way. I said I was going to order the Bose all in one wonder system Friday because I was suffering withdrawal symptoms, but forgot the print ad with the phone number when I went in to work, so I hadn't ordered the system when I discovered the program was back online. Which means I didn't order the radio, right? My, my. I would have bet yes, but it arrives in seven to ten calendar days, think seven days the man said, so I'll have it here before the operation. Been thinking about some other things I've been putting off, but that gets back to the taking stock without any action. I keep thinking about the portraits, though.

Boxed up the Nikon F3 (it decided to work again when I turned the meter on prior to packing) and I'll ship it to their repair facility tomorrow. Fed Ex. Get it back in two weeks ready to roll. It's a good camera for inside stuff where the light doesn't vary much.

 
The photographs were taken at Harrington's in San Francisco.

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