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Another photographer on an earlier day.
October 5th, 1999

Think About It
I'm thinking daily is maybe too daily, which is to say I had trouble this evening with the photographs and now I'm having trouble making a start. The photographs are done, but it's 9:00 in the evening and I'm sitting here in the silence wondering what to do next. Go to bed and read the copy of Scientific American that arrived yesterday until I drift off to sleep (in about ten minutes). I could do that. I've missed some entries in the last couple of weeks and I could miss some more entries in the next. The 29th of October will mark the beginning of my second year of journal keeping. I'm not sure how many entries I've written, but it will be over 300. Three hundred entries, maybe 600 pictures. Is that a lot? I don't know. I don't know how many I have left to write.

One problem with the daily entry routine is I never allow myself to sit back and fiddle Wavy Gravy at the What It Means to Live in Berkeley parade. with the site. There isn't much here other than the journal. I started with the idea of building a model railroad and chronicling it on the web with photographs. Hadn't shot any photographs in 20 years. So I bought some film for an old Mamiyaflex camera I had buried in a closet and fiddled with it. Bought a couple of light meters, some lenses, another Mamayaflex. Next thing you know I'd packed the model railroad away in boxes and bought the Nikon equipment. Never once looked back. Then this journal. Now I need to, well, do what? More photography, continue the daily writing, but how about the web site? Just churn out the entries and never touch the graphics?

I have a webcam pointed at downtown Oakland which I could reposition, maybe, if I could think of a more interesting place to put it. I should spend the time and figure how to make it update the screen automatically without requiring the user hit the refresh button. Reading the manual is all it would take, but I won't and I don't. The rest of the site with the exception of the books list can get lost. I've stopped cooking altogether and entered a TV dinner - canned Spaghetti sauce phase. Maybe I was always a canned Spaghetti sauce guy. Two working burners on the stove and a microwave oven. More than enough.

I haven't heard from the song writer who owns The Sole Proprietor trademark recently, but maybe this would be a good time to modify the name. Maybe just "The Proprietor". The Proprietor's Journal, although The Sole Proprietor name itself simply evolved from my earlier NBBC.COM site, it wasn't really chosen as a pseudonym for a journal. I like The Sole Proprietor well enough, but maybe if I'm going to change I should really change. Deep six APERSONALSITE.COM and start with something different. Duck out of site (sight) for six months and come back as, who knows? Jimmy Valentine, Johnny Guitar, Elvis Duck.

As I've mentioned, the pseudonym is useful at the office, not because The What It Means to Live in Berkeley parade. people at the office don't know about the journal. Many do, although few read it. From the comments I've read, that seems to hold throughout the journaling community. Most people you know personally don't necessarily want to read your journal. I value the pseudonym more in the relationship with my management. If I go on about sex and drugs and rock and roll, they have no real responsibility to sit me down and read me the riot act. The Sole Proprietor, after all, does not appear on the employee list. Not hard to figure out who I am or where I work, there's no real mystery about it, but it provides just enough fig leaf to make everybody (read me) comfortable.

So, I started typing and here I am, close to the finish. I read Al Schroeder's journal today and he talks about occasionally chasing his own Muse, although his imagination and word production go way beyond mine. Sets us all an example. Makes me crazy just to think about it.

The banner photograph was taken at a Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence affair in the Castro district. Another photographer with a Konica, a butterfly and a purple shirt. The photograph of Wavy Gravy and the lady on the bicycle were taken at the What It Means to Live in Berkeley parade.