Play while you read: “Blinded By The Light” – Manfred Mann

Thirty-six hours straight! When someone asked me what I was up to this weekend, that’s how long I claimed I was going to sleep. I figured that was about how long it would take for life to finally leave me alone. If I could sleep for thirty-six hours, maybe my problems would forget I existed and move along.

When I woke up this Saturday morning almost exactly twenty-eight hours shy of my goal, I didn’t feel as if I had failed. Yes, life was still there, a brutal tiger pacing outside my cave waiting for me to show. But, there was no pressing reason for me to go wrestle with it. I slept in and browsed Flickr instead. Ah, visual heroin.

As I clicked around, I also pondered a theoretical brunch of diced chicken with melted cheese in a tortilla — the only food left in the fridge at the moment. Rather randomly, I came across this improbable photograph on Flickr of a fireworks show and crowd that simultaneously captures a spectacular distant lighting burst. What are the chances? And, oh by the way, there’s also a comet right in the middle of it. A freakin’ comet. Really. Here’s the link again. Go ahead click and understand. It’ll open in a new window so you can come back here to finish reading.

So this is what I’m up against, I thought. No problem. I could dedicate my life to photography, but how am I ever going to get a shot like that? Curiously, I wasn’t defeated by this. No, I was moved. I didn’t care what was going on. I was headed out into the world, and I wasn’t coming back until I got my own Lightning-Fireworks-And-a-Comet photo! No sweat! I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers with no socks, fastened my ballcap to my head, and bolted out the door. I didn’t know where I was headed, but nine times out of ten, hitting the pavement is the best medicine.

Did I mention I didn’t bring a camera?

I walked. I was hungry. I walked by El Pollo Loco which I never, ever go to. But, I saw a poster for their New! menu item. That looks good, I thought and went in. Something New! sounded like just what I needed. After I ordered, in my innocence, I realized abruptly that the New! Grilled Chicken Tortilla Wrap was exactly what I could have made for myself at home.

Like the cat said, I has a pifanee! With strawberry soda to wash it down.

I was back on the street and found myself at the door of the local camera shop that is always closed when I’m near it. I’d never been inside. But, now it was open. I went in just to see what it was. Small, cozy, and manned by someone eager to not have me browse. I asked him for a couple rolls of black & white film, hoping he’d have something besides Kodak and Ilford Delta.

“Which kind do you want, the Kodak or the Delta?” He asked.

“Anything but the Kodak,” I said. As if I had a clue what I was talking about

Another man’s voice boomed out from behind me. “Phillies? I can’t believe you let him in here with that hat on.”

I forced a smile and tried to think of something. “Hey, its not over. You still have a chance,” I said. For some reason I wanted to console him. He said something about how he was used to disappointment, being a Dodgers fan.

“Like, I’m not?” I said, inexplicably trying to establish empathy. Brotherhood in a history of baseball futility? He didn’t get the connection and looked like I was trying to pick a fight with him. Another personal interaction failure for my bag. I left. But, I had some film.

Outside the shop, walking aimlessly down the street again, I reflected on all this: The baseball, the lightning-fireworks-and-a-comet photo, and my quest. I passed a family getting ready for lawn sale. Then, I passed people going to the lawn sale. I said hello to one man. He smiled cheerily and said hello back. Moments later, another man carrying a lamp and looking agitated. I said hello again. He instantly brightened and smiled back as best he could. Time stopped. If there were clouds in Southern California, they would have rolled by.

I knew what I was going to do. I walked to the grocery store. No sweat!

Whitening, Fire (Works!) and, uhh, Comet!

Play this while watching: “Dog House Blues” – Bill Monroe

The adventures of Peri and Sophie at the dog park, gettin’ into all kinds of good clean trouble. Dont forget to hit the music playbutton too. Wish they could sync up. Thanks to Greg for coining the term “DPU”.

Play this: “Alligator Wine” – Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

It’s just another day in the Valley:

“That’s kind of the problem with wild animals – they do grow.” – Kathy Davis, assistant general manager of Snark & Sarcasm the Los Angeles Animal Services Department

Alligator found in Valley home – LA Daily News.

“Advance Cassette” – Spoon

I took a bikeride in the Valley on a scorching summer afternoon. I rode by this wonderful bit of “found art” near the 170 overpass on Chandler. There was a drug deal going on, so I just kept on going of course. But, an hour later I circled back on the return trip. Damn, but it was hot on the pavement. That’s some street photography, no?

Music to read by: “Cameras in California” — Kirk Wheeler

“Thanks for nothing,” I say to the editor who writes headlines like “Photog Allegedly Assaulted 3 Aspiring Models“  This salacious story of a man arrested for allegedly luring girls to motel rooms under the premise of photographing them to make them stars — only to then sexually assault them — has been all over the local news and Web the past few days. It’s abominable on many levels.

Foremost, of course, sympathy goes out to victims of such an act. That anyone, especially females, need to fear for their physical safety in any human interaction suggests we’re not as evolved a species, all of us, as we think we are.

I have no idea if the charges are true. But, I do know that true or false, this guy is toast. The nature of this sort of story is a complete presumption of guilt on the part of the media and the consumers of the story. That’s it. There’s no “until.” The vast majority of people who will consume this story will assume the guy’s guilty, and they’ll move on. The smaller group who actually follow the story will likely assume his guilt even if he is not convicted. It’s just too juicy a story to doubt.

Beyond the impacted lives of the victims and the accused is an issue of lesser importance, but perhaps one of broader effect.  It affects me as a hobbyist photographer who can occasionally be seen walking down the street with a camera in my hand. The above events are alleged to have taken place down the street from where I live. I’m pissed. The way the story is presented will plant yet another seed of a subliminal idea that will grow in the minds of everyday people: The idea that photographers are a threat. Increasingly, people with cameras are portrayed as a threat to public transportation, as a threat to national security, and now we’re to automatically assume they’re a threat to young girls. Some attention may eventually be paid to the psychology of the suspected perpetrator of these crimes, what factors were at work in his impulses or urges. The same criminal could have used other tactics: dinner with a non-existent movie exec, a meeting with a fake lawyer. But, almost nobody will ever pay attention to that. The story here is that a “photog” did a terrible thing, and that’s all anyone will remember.

I’m already terrified of asking strangers if I can take their picture out in public on the street. There’s a Flickr group dedicated to taking portraits of strangers that should be fun. I see faces every day I wish I could take a photograph of. Stories like this only make approaching strangers harder. The next person I ask while I’m holding a camera could well scream for the cops. And, then in the eyes of the police, and then the media, I’d be guilty; Guilty of having a camera.

Do you think I’m over-reacting?

Listen to this while you read: “Transmission” – Joy Division

Life isn’t perfect.

I know this isn’t a shocking revelation. But, sometimes I’m reminded of this in funny little ways.

About a half a mile from where I live in the urbanish San Fernando Valley sits a large and lonely radio transmission station. An otherwise-vacant city block supports a squat brick building that says “50000 Watt Station” along the side, and three massive transmitter antennae. The impressive ensemble is guarded by two forbidding obstacles: A conventional chain link fence serves notice to casual passerby. For the bold explorer there is, improbably, a more stealthy deterrent: hundreds of small sandy hills in the scrub housing voracious red army ants.

It’s seemingly deserted. I never see any cars on the lot nor anyone coming or going. Yet, the lights are on and the transmitters twinkling red lights promise that all fifty-thousand watts are hard at work sending some sort of information out into the ether. A barely-alive imagination could easily picture some sinister government operation at the heart of this inexplicable installation, and my fancy is more than healthy.

I’ve always wanted to photograph the place. But, as intriguing as it is in concept, visually it poses some problems. The scale of the place requires a wide-angle, but there is so much empty space that a wide angle ends up being boring. Getting right up to the antennae might work, but I’m not yet ready to risk black helicopters by scaling the fence.

I figured the key would be to wait for a breathtaking sky. But, its rare to get skies in the valley. It’s always blue skies.

The weather in the valley has been hot over the past few days. It’s always hot in the valley, in the summer. But even the beaches have been hot this week, and that means a bit of moisture in the air that drifts over the hills.

As I drove home, I noticed the skies, normally a spotless blue, were mixed up with swirling clouds. As I drove past the radio station, as I do every single day, I wondered idly what the sunset would be like, an hour or so away. I didn’t plan to do anything, I was just wondering.

I got home, and brightened up knowing I’d walk the dogs. For just a moment, I considered taking them on a long walk to the antennae. But, as we made our way round the far side of the block, we were attacked by some insistent midges. Midges! Little bugs, just like in Cleveland in last year’s baseball playoffs, were dancing happily around my face. I mean, I am just guessing they were midges. I’m no entomologist. Just crazy. Luckily on our own block, these insectoids were nowhere to be found. We’re in a slightly more respectable neighborhood I guess. As we made our way up the steps to our front door, I noticed the sky was getting rather interesting, in places. The sun was setting quickly

I made up my mind to try.

I’m occasionally big on preparation, and in other things not so much. Riding my bicycle is one of the things I prepare meticulously for. Gotta wear shorts. The helmet. The rear-view mirror. The bandana under the helmet, the gloves, the backpack, and the tire pressure. It’s occurred to me that it often takes a half an hour just to get out on my bike. Some might call that anal. I think they’d be right. Yet, I never wash my car. Curious.

But, like I said I made up my mind. I made up my mind that I’d go to the antennae to see what I could see, and I decided that  instead of driving that I’d ride my bike to get there. I realized there was no time to do anything at all that I usually do. I threw my camera over my shoulder, grabbed my bike and went.

Riding a bike in jeans is just annoying. Not having my helmet and rear-view was disconcerting. Feeling the handlebars in my hands was new. It was all good.

I got to my destination probably three minutes after the best sky of the night. And, even that sky wasn’t that good as it turns out. It certainly wasn’t Flickr-Explore good. Oh well. I rode my bike over the grass, over the ant hills! I pulled up next to the fence. I took some pictures, making sure not to stand in one place for more than a few seconds. I’ve had experience with angry red ants in the jungles of Orlando, Florida. I wasn’t going to let them get me.

The photos weren’t anything at all like what I wanted, but I still don’t know the right way to photograph this location. I chafe against the reality, unescapable in the end,  that I’ll never have the true photographer’s eye. I’ll always be a dilettante. So, I’m mildly disappointed with the photo results, but I’m not at all disappointed with how it went down.

Life isn’t perfect, but sometimes it’ll do.

This morning I thought I would take the dog Peri on a little morning hike before the heat dropped into the Valley. We just adopted Peri three weeks ago, and I was looking forward to bringing her along on hikes. I picked a close-by trail that a lot of people take dogs on. It’s in a pretty rich Hollywood hills-type neighborhood. I thought it’s a nice easy hike that Peri would really enjoy.

That’s what I get for thinkin’.

On the first leg of the trail, we’re just getting started and Peri was zipping all over the place. Grass is so interesting.  Then another group with a dog went to pass us, so I stopped and tried to keep Peri polite. Peri, though, went totally bonkers. She growled and barked and jumped and growled a lot more and made a big fuss. Peri is the sweetest dog, but her growls sound murderous. And, one of the people with the dog made some comment about hating dogs that did that.  So Peri went even more nuts and somehow wriggled out of her pink escape-proof harness, eluded my lunging grab and took off back the other way. She ran twenty yards back towards the car, but that was just so she could get a good start. She stopped,  looked back at me, and ran towards me, but not right at me. I could see it was going to veer around me. She wanted to get past me to get to the dog further up the trail. She went left, I summoned my best soccer goalie training and dove left with full extension. I got nothing but air as Peri sped past.  I ground my elbow badly against a rock, but I had to begin the chase.  Peri ran over to the other dog and I worried there would be an incident — but Peri, now freed of her leash, was just in happy-mode. She sniffed the other dog for a second, and then took off a-runnin’. I started beatin’ feet — uphill — after good ol’ Peri. The other owners were laughing at me “How’d that happen? Ha ha! Guess ya gotta get runnin’.”  I love people.

So, off I went. Peri kept disappearing around the bend, then looking back to make sure I was chasing. On and on. I’m not lasting very long jogging, but for her it’s fun time! I don’t think she is anywhere near as fast as my brother’s dog Augie was when runnin’ loose in the old neighborhood, but she’s for sure a damn sight faster’n me. I had no chance of catching her if she didn’t want to be caught. I saw her go off down an alternate fork in the trail with much denser foliage. I knew it led about a mile down into a gated residential area. I took the fork, but saw no Peri anywhere in sight. I was happy that at least there would be fewer other dogs on this side-trail, but I didn’t know if Peri would decide the trail was boring and disappear into the untrackable brush.

I kept trotting down the trail, not seeing, just hoping. A couple minutes on, and Peri came bounding back down the trail at me. It was a narrower trail and she was tiring a little bit, so the chase was over. I got a-hold of her and we just sat down to talk it over for a little bit. I was shaking. My heart was still churning away and my hands were not sure.  Took me a couple tries to get the harness back on straight. I was bleeding all over the place from my elbow. Some bikers came by and asked if I’ve seen their buddies. Nope.  They asked me if I am coming up or going down. But, they’re a little mixed up about which way is “back” on this dog-leg trail. I think I just confused ‘em more. Peri doesn’t care about people, or bikes for that matter. She was being patient and polite while I sat in the weeds looking like I stabbed somebody. I noticed I bled all over her paw. “That doesn’t look good,” I thought.   Finally I got her tightened up. I just sat there and I talked to her kindly in the silence. Finally, we headed back to the car. “We’re done with this place for today,” I tell her.

But, the Sunday morning had risen into rush hour on the trail by that point, and every other group coming up while we were headed down had two or three dogs with them. Every dog Peri sensed drove her crazy. If I saw a dog coming, I sat down on the ground with Peri and hugged on to her tight as she growled like a vicious killer and writhed and whined. I was by that time bloody on my shorts and shirt. These affluent dog-walkers must’ve imagined we’d breakfasted on a few puppies and were considering our brunch options.  I think Peri growls at the leash, not at the other dogs — but they didn’t know that.  There were at least five dog parties on the way back to the car. Each time, I was sure Peri would get loose again. I wasn’t entirely certain she wouldn’t turn her jaws on me.  I couldn’t keep her at all calm, but I kept a hold and tried to be a dog whisperer. She wasn’t paying me any mind. But after each interesting doggie went on past, she became the same old goofy Peri, sniffing at grass, happy to be alive.

When we reached the parking lot, I was genuinely stunned at the lack of a K-9 SWAT team reception. I was sure somebody was going to call the authorities on us two misfits.  Once I got Peri safely secured on the car, I washed out my gashed elbow with some water. And, we went home.

She’s sleeping happily now. I’m all neosporined and gauzed.  I think we’ll watch the Phillies game.

From the LA Crime Blog’s map of crime in the Valley:

A victim was on a bus when she observed suspect-1 exit the bus and remove her bicycle from the bus bike rack. As the suspect rode off slowly on her bicycle, the victim chased the suspect and applied the brakes on the bicycle, causing the suspect to fall. The victim wrestled the suspect for control of the bicycle and managed to get away as she rode back towards Ventura Boulevard. Suspects 2-7 threw small rocks in her direction. One rock struck the victim on the back of her head but did not cause any injuries. Victim was able to get on another bus to call the police.
Database – LA Daily News

Suspects 2-7???  So she was up against some serious odds, but she scrapped and got her bike back.  And, seven people banding together to steal a used bike? Were they going to ride-share it? Punks in a pack. Glad she prevailed. Wonder if she’ll keep riding the bus?

Aside from that, other highlights included somebody packing heat at McDonalds, two dudes apprehended on the roof while trying to steal an air-conditioner, a few random gang beatings against “outsiders,” and a guy bringing a rifle to shoot his ex a church carnival.   Ladies and gentleman, the human race!