The Old Fart
Monday. Thanksgiving week, an interesting week. Up this morning somewhat later than usual as I got in last night around ten after seeing Pirate Radio at the Metreon in San Francisco with Mr. E and Mr. H. A corny, formulaic, no surprises movie that we all thoroughly enjoyed, if only for the music. A better time than any of us was expecting was had by all. A Guinness and an Irish Coffee at Dan's before the film, a piece of chocolate pie afterwards at Mel's Drive-In (that's no longer a drive-in, the old location, when it was a drive-in, was used in the making of American Graffiti). Not bad, not bad.
The skies clear, by the way, the light really nice with the sun so low. A picture or three walking back to the apartment from breakfast, these oak trees, for example, entertaining my interest. Don't know if there's a picture there or not, but feeling good for being alive and having a camera. A good mood and the holidays all in one. How nice! How, um, novel.
My sister, by the way, seems to have one of her songs getting air play on BBC Radio 1 this week, an interview she gave today with Richard J. Hannah, one of their DJ's, to be posted later online (start the podcast and then go to the 67 minute mark for the interview). Sounds like she's having fun, my sister, who cut a couple of singles for Verve Folkways when she was in college during the late sixties. A good time to be cutting records for Verve Folkways, the late sixties, after Dylan had gone electric. They evidently still remember her in Europe. So excitement in the family, stuff going on.
Some thought on the photographs. I seem to be running a bunch of them these last several days, not all of them up to snuff. Well, some with more thought could have been better. The photographs from last night, for example, the BART station photograph nice for the color, but, I realize, if I'm going to be running them here, I should be taking them with more care, choosing them with more care, thinking about them as if I was working for a (not overly happy) client instead of a laid back, pass the sake please, me. Shooting for a not overly happy client can add focus and zing to one's pictures (and ulcers to one's stomach).
And this camera, who's new brother is on the way (one of these days) from B&H. It shoots in the dark. It's wonderful, but that doesn't mean I don't have to use it with care, frame images with care or think I can cruise along because it's night, the colors are bright and I think they can take themselves, no need for intervention. I'm enjoying it, this walking along, taking the odd picture or two, but if I'm going to improve I suspect running them here will force me to pay attention. Good. The self berating is out of the way, done for the day, I can relax. I said my attitude was up, this beginning of the holiday season, and it's true. Doodle-dee-do.
You should be thinking about your writing.
Later. Once you take the bus, of course, you're committed and I took the bus downtown later this morning as has been my habit, camera in hand. A bit of a joke on the street, by now, me and my camera. Well, joke. Someone who becomes recognizable over time, the guy with the camera, wonder if he's, um, altogether with us? Nah. No reason to think such things. Everything's fine as long as I don't run into trouble.
How could you run into trouble living in the third most violent city in America?
At least we're at the top of somebody's list.
I'd forgotten they were having an anti-war rally in front of the Federal building. Barbara Lee, the Congress woman for my district, sent out an email last week and I remember thinking at the time about going by and photographing it. And to show support. What the hell, here I am, I can do both. A couple of pictures before walking over to the plaza in front of City Hall, the weather warm in the sun, a walk back then to the apartment trying this and trying that to no result. Still, a good walk, good exercise, a gold star for the old fart.