Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Friday, June 30, 2006
Never happy with the candids I take of people, this one is no exception, but I found something to like about the pic after I had given it a more film grain style look. This was taken late night in Quincy Market. These two gentlemen seemed to spend themselves arguing some point I was to polite to listen in on, then paused for several minutes as if to regain a sense of composure. I snapped a couple of pics from the side. I wonder if my pic is floating around digital photo albums. I will never know these two men but here I have captured this quiet moment that seems almost intimate.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Monday, January 03, 2005
It's been one month since my last post, did ya miss me? A blog I read regularly did a whole month of posts on what they called the "lost days" between Thanksgiving and Christmas, their goal was to save those days, reclaim them as productive, meaningful days. I say to heck with that, I did say to heck with that, I wasted em all!!! Well not really but let's just say I did because I had enough fun during those days that I needed to ask forgiveness and to mention them again would be a sin.
I wish that were true, it's not. I went skiing the week before Christmas. The good of it, the mountains, Colorado is magnificent, a poet, a nation of poets would be required to describe the artistry, and the brilliance God painted down the Western middle of America. My breath goes short just in memory of it. Some would say that if you live in the shadow of such mountains their power is lost on you, that the common place robs you of the wonder, that cannot be, I can't believe that.
The bad of the trip was the nature of the "friends" I went on the trip with. I put friends in quotes because if you've taken a trip with a few (10 to 15) friends before you know that two or three of them are your friends, the others are your friends friends, or their friends friends, who you may get along with in some abstract kind of fantasy world setting (also known as a barbeque) but not in a intimate I'm going to be in a vehicle with you for almost 50 hours kind of setting.
Should I be magnanimous and stop there or should I name names? I can't decide. Okay fine, I'll give an in between, no names just descriptions as good as names.
So Winter Park is roughly 19 hours from Clear Lake TX driving straight through, give or take giving number of stops (by that I mean the number of women in the car =) <-- sorry ladies I just couldn't help myself). Round trip should be no more than say 42 hours if you're generous and give several hours to extra stops and maybe an accident or two. We spent fifty one hours together.
We spent over an hour sitting in the Woodlands because a preppy, know it all, self absorbed punk thought it would be cool to have us stop by his car dealer to see if his truck was ready. No, he didn't call ahead and find out, no it wasn't ready, no and of course we didn't mind blowing an hour at the end of what had already been a long trip just so he could avoid the bother of a phone call. Of course, I'm sure no one else minded. Everyone loves the jackass, or at least some of them do. Do you get the vibe that maybe I don’t?
He's so transparent, so cocky, and so into himself. He's a guy who owns five pairs of Oakley's, and brings all of them on the trip. He's a guy who brings a parachute (yes a parachute) to a New Years Eve party and then packs it in the living room. Why would he do this? Well it's just more convenient to pack a parachute at a crowded New Years Eve party where everyone is watching and can marvel that this super human who has decided to grace us with his presences. Maybe it also had something to do with wanting to brag about sky-diving. Can you tell I may not care for this guy? He owns a Land Rover and a boat, he owns a small country's worth of debt, and he lives with his Mom.
Did I mention he's in the Army (don't know which rank) and served in Afghanistan? Yeah that's the point where most people like him, especially the folks down here in Texas. Of course, you couldn't miss him being a solider because he mentions it often. So let's recap, I'm a jackass because I don't like this guy everyone else loves. I'm a real dick because I loathe him, because you know he's a veteran of Afghanistan, he's a national hero.
Did I mention that I threatened to rip his head off during the car ride, not in the funnin around way either; I would have taken his head off if I could. Oh and I told him this in the middle of this trip at full volume so as to make sure everyone else in the car knew how I felt. Should I discuss why? I had reasons, I had good reasons. He was playing jokes with the vehicle while driving down iced roads that wind sharp down the middle of the mountains. He took his hands off the wheel, slammed on the brakes and shouted "Oh my God" then I said something that involved him and his mother, and how I felt I might need to take his head from his body if he did something that stupid again.
Like I said the mountains were incredible. Does anyone want to be my friend, I'm runnin short right now =)...
I wish that were true, it's not. I went skiing the week before Christmas. The good of it, the mountains, Colorado is magnificent, a poet, a nation of poets would be required to describe the artistry, and the brilliance God painted down the Western middle of America. My breath goes short just in memory of it. Some would say that if you live in the shadow of such mountains their power is lost on you, that the common place robs you of the wonder, that cannot be, I can't believe that.
The bad of the trip was the nature of the "friends" I went on the trip with. I put friends in quotes because if you've taken a trip with a few (10 to 15) friends before you know that two or three of them are your friends, the others are your friends friends, or their friends friends, who you may get along with in some abstract kind of fantasy world setting (also known as a barbeque) but not in a intimate I'm going to be in a vehicle with you for almost 50 hours kind of setting.
Should I be magnanimous and stop there or should I name names? I can't decide. Okay fine, I'll give an in between, no names just descriptions as good as names.
So Winter Park is roughly 19 hours from Clear Lake TX driving straight through, give or take giving number of stops (by that I mean the number of women in the car =) <-- sorry ladies I just couldn't help myself). Round trip should be no more than say 42 hours if you're generous and give several hours to extra stops and maybe an accident or two. We spent fifty one hours together.
We spent over an hour sitting in the Woodlands because a preppy, know it all, self absorbed punk thought it would be cool to have us stop by his car dealer to see if his truck was ready. No, he didn't call ahead and find out, no it wasn't ready, no and of course we didn't mind blowing an hour at the end of what had already been a long trip just so he could avoid the bother of a phone call. Of course, I'm sure no one else minded. Everyone loves the jackass, or at least some of them do. Do you get the vibe that maybe I don’t?
He's so transparent, so cocky, and so into himself. He's a guy who owns five pairs of Oakley's, and brings all of them on the trip. He's a guy who brings a parachute (yes a parachute) to a New Years Eve party and then packs it in the living room. Why would he do this? Well it's just more convenient to pack a parachute at a crowded New Years Eve party where everyone is watching and can marvel that this super human who has decided to grace us with his presences. Maybe it also had something to do with wanting to brag about sky-diving. Can you tell I may not care for this guy? He owns a Land Rover and a boat, he owns a small country's worth of debt, and he lives with his Mom.
Did I mention he's in the Army (don't know which rank) and served in Afghanistan? Yeah that's the point where most people like him, especially the folks down here in Texas. Of course, you couldn't miss him being a solider because he mentions it often. So let's recap, I'm a jackass because I don't like this guy everyone else loves. I'm a real dick because I loathe him, because you know he's a veteran of Afghanistan, he's a national hero.
Did I mention that I threatened to rip his head off during the car ride, not in the funnin around way either; I would have taken his head off if I could. Oh and I told him this in the middle of this trip at full volume so as to make sure everyone else in the car knew how I felt. Should I discuss why? I had reasons, I had good reasons. He was playing jokes with the vehicle while driving down iced roads that wind sharp down the middle of the mountains. He took his hands off the wheel, slammed on the brakes and shouted "Oh my God" then I said something that involved him and his mother, and how I felt I might need to take his head from his body if he did something that stupid again.
Like I said the mountains were incredible. Does anyone want to be my friend, I'm runnin short right now =)...
Monday, December 06, 2004
I violated airport security taking (or trying to take) pictures this weekend. Sunday afternoon a friend of mine brought me out to a spot where he sits and watches planes break the “ceiling” (he’s a pilot so he’s allowed to use pilot-speak) and coast in. I had just enough time to snap a few test frames before FAA security personnel showed up and asked us to leave.
To my surprise what I was doing was a national security risk. If I’m intent on getting the pictures I want, I’ll need to get a little more James Bond.
I’m thinking of starting an operation to get the pictures I want. Operation DumbButt. The crux of this operation involves me driving around Hobby airport in a suspicious manner waiting for an opportunity to jump out and take a couple of pictures. It took a good ten minutes for a response from FAA security so I figure I have a window of ten minutes to get the picture and get out. That’s Operation DumbButt objective 1, get the picture. Objective 2 involves me staying out of jail.
Objective 2 is the most important part of the operation. The FAA sec guy pointed out several cameras in the vicinity of our watch area. There’s a good chance that after a successful completion of Objective 1 I run the risk of having Objective 2 fall apart while FBI, CIA, and NSA park black helicopters over my apartment and drag me to seedy warehouses filled with all manner of equipment that probes you in all the wrong ways (unless you happen to be into that kind of thing).
Once I’ve determined how to complete Objective 2, once I’m certain I haven’t been spotted, tagged, or contained for committing an act that violates National Security, I’ll move onto Objective 3, posting the pictures on the internet =)…
To my surprise what I was doing was a national security risk. If I’m intent on getting the pictures I want, I’ll need to get a little more James Bond.
I’m thinking of starting an operation to get the pictures I want. Operation DumbButt. The crux of this operation involves me driving around Hobby airport in a suspicious manner waiting for an opportunity to jump out and take a couple of pictures. It took a good ten minutes for a response from FAA security so I figure I have a window of ten minutes to get the picture and get out. That’s Operation DumbButt objective 1, get the picture. Objective 2 involves me staying out of jail.
Objective 2 is the most important part of the operation. The FAA sec guy pointed out several cameras in the vicinity of our watch area. There’s a good chance that after a successful completion of Objective 1 I run the risk of having Objective 2 fall apart while FBI, CIA, and NSA park black helicopters over my apartment and drag me to seedy warehouses filled with all manner of equipment that probes you in all the wrong ways (unless you happen to be into that kind of thing).
Once I’ve determined how to complete Objective 2, once I’m certain I haven’t been spotted, tagged, or contained for committing an act that violates National Security, I’ll move onto Objective 3, posting the pictures on the internet =)…
Thursday, December 02, 2004
There’s an alien on my porch. I found him three months ago, abandoned on the small lawn outside my apartment.
He’s a tiny guy, kind of slimy and gray. He just sits there, sunning himself during the day, waiting for his chance to phone home.
I set him on my porch thinking that whatever kid lost him would come back by, see him sitting on my railing, and rescue him. He’s had no such luck.
He’s held up pretty well so far, he gets a little sweaty on the hot days but it’s nothing he can’t handle. I thought the other day about him sitting out on my porch like some Native Man’s totem, my own personal gargoyle. Is this how superstition starts? I find an inanimate child’s toy lying in the grass, and set it on my porch. If he lasts another year I may give him a name. Two years and he’ll be a permanent decoration.
Given enough time, the thing seems to take on more and more significance. If he lasts a generation, he may become an heirloom, and if he lasts two, he may become a good luck charm. Three generations may make him some a sort of family saint, a protector.
My alien’s consistency isn’t made of a generation spanning material; my point was that maybe that is how legend, superstition, magic, and idols are created. They are novelties, trivial, but give them some time…
He’s a tiny guy, kind of slimy and gray. He just sits there, sunning himself during the day, waiting for his chance to phone home.
I set him on my porch thinking that whatever kid lost him would come back by, see him sitting on my railing, and rescue him. He’s had no such luck.
He’s held up pretty well so far, he gets a little sweaty on the hot days but it’s nothing he can’t handle. I thought the other day about him sitting out on my porch like some Native Man’s totem, my own personal gargoyle. Is this how superstition starts? I find an inanimate child’s toy lying in the grass, and set it on my porch. If he lasts another year I may give him a name. Two years and he’ll be a permanent decoration.
Given enough time, the thing seems to take on more and more significance. If he lasts a generation, he may become an heirloom, and if he lasts two, he may become a good luck charm. Three generations may make him some a sort of family saint, a protector.
My alien’s consistency isn’t made of a generation spanning material; my point was that maybe that is how legend, superstition, magic, and idols are created. They are novelties, trivial, but give them some time…
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Took this pic last Wednesday. The only reason I got this and several other shots were because a auto-parts store rented out some tools they said they would keep for me. I had to detour, run across town, and find another parts supply store that had the tools I needed. On my way out to my parent?s house, I saw the moon was out, and the sky was grapefruit pink. I drove to this park not far from their place on the bay and found it still and at rest. I spent over an hour out there, just taking pictures. It was worth the delay. 
Monday, November 22, 2004
Houston looks of winter long before it feels of winter. The sky turns gray, the trees bare, but still the temperature hovers around 70-85 degrees.
Winter is marked not by temperature but by the dull wet look of everything.
The weatherman is telling me by Thanksgiving the temperatures may fall as low as 41 at night. It’s November 22nd, I’ve worn my coat twice this year, I only needed it once. I’ve come to think of wearing my coat as a special occasion.
In Houston a couple of times a year, the weather treats us to a day where hard works is required to produce a sweat. Houston typically makes sweating an easy exercise; breathing is all it takes to give you a good sheen.
I’m looking forward to a few days at the end of the week when Houston will look and feel in sync.
Winter is marked not by temperature but by the dull wet look of everything.
The weatherman is telling me by Thanksgiving the temperatures may fall as low as 41 at night. It’s November 22nd, I’ve worn my coat twice this year, I only needed it once. I’ve come to think of wearing my coat as a special occasion.
In Houston a couple of times a year, the weather treats us to a day where hard works is required to produce a sweat. Houston typically makes sweating an easy exercise; breathing is all it takes to give you a good sheen.
I’m looking forward to a few days at the end of the week when Houston will look and feel in sync.
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