I got out for awhile yesterday afternoon. I went to the annual Grandma Party at the Cafe Strange and environs. It stretched for blocks from the cafe across the street to the hipster shopping strip. The crowd was what it should be, and I saw people I don't often see, or now that I'm a full-time caregiver, never see. They were part of the Hipster Elite, artists and shop owners and writers and DJs and just plain "personalities."
I won't bore you with it all, but I felt "out" again. I talked to people. Used the old vocal cords. Found that I could still hang. It was fun.
I took my Leica and shot a gazillion picture. I didn't think most of them would be any good for by and large I wasn't putting the viewfinder to my eye and I had a 35mm lens attached which is different from the wider angle 28mm I have been using lately, so I was often too close or missing what I was trying to shoot entirely. But, for the first time in my life, I used the setting that takes six photos a second, so I was able to "spray and pray" as it is often called. The result? Instead of one image, I would have four or five, and when I got home to download the images, I had hundreds instead of fifty. Most of the early ones, I saw, were no good, but I got better as the day went on. By the time I had downloaded them all, though, it was getting to be time to head back to mother's. I wouldn't be able to seriously cull and work on any images at all, so I copied them to an external hard drive to bring back to my little laptop at mom's.
That didn't work out so well. I was able to edit a couple before I got messages that I couldn't edit anymore, that my scratch disc was full. WTF? I had to update all my photo apps last night and spent half of this morning trying to figure out what is wrong. I will have to do a deep dive later.
So what you see are a couple of edits before the catastrophe.
Selavy.
I was looking forward to this week, a week free of doctor appointments. I might have a good portion of the days to myself. But the weather forecast could be better and I am supposed to get a new roof sometime this week, so. . . it may not be as grand as I had imagined.
I was looking back at pictures from two years ago. I was taking pictures almost every day. I was taking drives around the state looking at Christmas things, finding oddities, just being out. It nearly made me weep. I thought maybe I might do it again. I'll have a few hours from mid-morning to mid-afternoon if I don't go to the gym. I have to cram my own life into a few hours each day.
If I am lucky.
Some of the pics are not completely in focus, but I don't mind. I mean, I wish they were, but just having the image is something.
Oh, hey. . . I wanted to say a few words about the released Epstein files. Dems have releases some photos of Clinton, Trump, and Woody Allen. They have blurred out the faces of the females in the pictures. . . they say to "protect the victims." Really? Then why release the images at all? Who are the "victims"? Let's pick, say, Woody Allen because I am a fan of his movies. Why Woody? Of course I know why. But, as almost all commentators on tv say when asked a question, "Listen. . . this does not mean that any of these figures knew what was going on or that they participated or did anything illegal."
O.K. That's right. So why show their faces? They may also be "victims." It is easy to point to Woody and say, "Sure." Easy. But. . . I have known many people who were convicted of crimes and went to jail and/or prison. Does that make me an accomplice? I may have even known something about the situation, but I wasn't buying or selling or stealing or pimping or whatever with them. Should my photo be shown at an event I attended in connection with them?
All this "high moral ground" bullshit makes me ill. Don't cast aspersions until you have the goods. They've already tainted my thinking. "Well, sure. . . you know Bill Clinton was in on it, and Woody. . . did you see Manhattan? Yea. He's one for sure. And there is no doubt in my mind about Trump. Hell, I still think he was schtupping his own daughter."
Just saying, we are all imaginative thinkers. We may be right, we may be wrong. But. . . didn't you want to go to a Diddy party just to see what was going on? You know the Obamas were in on it.
Selah.
Since I posted that Sheryl Crow song the other day, I've been listening to her music. Man, she was a thief, but a good one. Her first album is a fusion of Steve Miller slide guitar, Prince percussions, Tom Petty tunes. The lyrics are pretty good for pop music. She had talent.
I have been saying she was a backup singer for Prince before she went out on her own, but I think I might be wrong. She DID collaborate with him a few times, though, and he recorded some of her songs.
I just want to get into my mother's little Corolla, roll down the windows, put on the tunes, and drive on down the highway. Every day is a winding road.
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