Category: personal

Iraq War Result Not Decided

 

4,500 dead if you only count Americans or people fighting on behalf of the Armed Forces? How many Iraq people? How many Vermonters who died in an uneven proportion? Enemies increased from both the ones who hated the US and the ones who didn’t yet know they did. Living there didn’t get much better; neither did living here. Sectarian violence no one counted as a civil war ripped communities apart. Robert Moses did the same thing. Killed some of the bad guys too, and more innocents than anyone wanted to admit to. Yeh? Economy dead here, but no passion for the people who played by the rules or played by ones which should have been. Lost the higher road in the world. No more common sense here or real community. Everyone smiles because they don’t want to share the truth, unless they don;t know it. No taxes to pay for a war; a rate reduction that didn’t trickle down; excessive greed and theivery which went unpunished. If I paid for it, the war and the rest of the ills of society, I should have been given the opportunity to voter for it, yes? No. Democracy as we were taught be dead. A trillion $ for no reason, except to protect the gas in the Emirates and Saudi land and to supply the bombs, food and the bandages. Remember Coppola’s gem? who built the bridges and the airfields? Who worked for companies that benefitted the war who served in the executive. How many just injured, mentally or physically are we going to pay for? All I hope, but not until someone tells them why they have been left in their present conditions. No jobs for the vets. No money to send them to college. And if the money were found, it would come with some sort of hooks, preventing the people from getting jobs. If the reason to depose Sadaam Hussein was because he was a tyrant, a denier of freedom and a committer of genocide, and that reason was acceptable, then go after all the others, assuming that here in America we treat everyone fairly and equitably, too.

“Red,” the Barber of Greefield MA

 

Moving along with our lives. Going to Hallmark Institute of Photography in Turner’s Falls MA. Rented an apartment in nearby Greenfield. Needed a haircut and beard trim. Only had to look around the corner for a barber. A red and blue spiral tube gave the location away.

Meet “Red,” the Barber of Greenfield. 62, found retirement boring, went back to his true love, cutting hair. Still shaves the neck, but not the face. No facials. Striped drapes come from 60’s. Sanitary instrument holder is a 40’s antique. He offered bare walls to display my work. Looking forward to him meeting my street people.

 

The Yankees Loooose, the Yankees Loooose


A-Rod and Jeta had chances to make their legends grow. Big strikeouts in big events in the big ballpark in the South Bronx offered opportunities that ballplayers live for. Beyond their primes and overmatched, they failed, as predicted by the baseball gods who know when players should hang up their cleats. Sterling, who was featured in last weeks NYT, didn’t get to do his call.

But, baseball doesn’t end because the Yankees lose for this fan who also loves the game. How about that Philly/Cards game, sportsfans. And, in today’s NYT, Ken Belson images the “Fat Toad,” making me long for more.

Paul Ages

Great thanks to Paul’s sister, Mary, who keeps part of her eye on her brother through this blog, for sending me this image. He did ask for you upon his return, asking that I tell  you where he was at. His surprise that I had informed you that he was incarcerated at St Albans, lacked understanding of our relationships: yours and mine; his and mine; and the power of blogs.

Photographers, especially documentary/portraitists look at their work in search of increased understanding of individual people, as well as the human race, in general. That is quite a span in which to find a focus. Every portrait forces me to look at the person, an exercise which can start with the easiest question, like where was this shot made or when and why. But, at some level, I just look at the portraits, knowing they have recorded a life living.

So, he spent 31 days in jail. What a waste. “Nothing much to do there,” he said. Missed the Labor Day Weekend in Burlington. People on the street said it was for a failure to appear; others said his public presence and sanitary practices posed a problem. He had built up a series of unspectacular violations of the public order and couldn’t or didn’t show up in court to answer them. He went in, because there are only  a few ways the system can respond to uncooperative citizens who disrupt the peace in the main urban glen in Chittenden County.

Still complaining, he returned to the spot where he hangs, starting the same cycle of present life again, and continuing to age. Yeh, they pick on you. Yeh, you have been underserved. Now what? It be getting cold, again. “Hey, yunno, there aren’t a lot of people walking down this street. Getting more difficult to make a living out here.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

David II Be Wrong

 

So David thinks, if he has some non-cloudy thoughts that I am the photo-journalist who has threatened the Market place, causing some to chase the errant shooter from the scene. He said, “I will break your camera and then kill you.”

Paul said, “he’s a friend; chill.”

Moved up the street. Pregnant again. “A mistake,” she said.

“I am proud of you, girl” Alicea said when I mentioned an abortion to Cheryl. Not like me to engage them in a discussion of their politics or closely held beliefs, even if they cannot pay for them or appreciate the effects of their decisions.

If looks could do more than get you laid, Andrew would be a star. He is just caught in the vortex. Life ain’t easy and bad things happen to good people. He has bad acts in his past, so cleaning it up cannot do it for him, here.

 

 

Amy Winehouse, Dead at 27

 

 

What did she say in F*uck Me Pumps, “… don’t be upset if they call you a skank.” Only two albums, one of which I, yes, me, own. Great ink. But don’t compare her to the others who only made it to 27 (Cobain, Janice, Jimmy, Jim, Brian Jones). I still cry for Lennon whose longer life would have made the world betta, betta, betta. When your obit can only refer to one great song whose point is that you should have gone to rehab and didn’t, I cannot mourn her, especially with what happened in Norway.

 

Jesse and My Coffee Cup

I left my coffe cup near the rock. Jesse kept it over the weekend. It returned to me a little bruised, but not broken. Had not marked it lost. Hard to explain how one becomes connected to a cup. Sure, it protects the environment, but it also has a feel that I have become attached to, associating it with the liquid it carries and its presence at the beginning of a day. This cup has been with me since Manchester, early oughts. But it never lived in someone’s backpack for four days, not knowing if it would ever see me again.

So, you think this is stupid, eh? If you be a dunkin donut drinker, do you think the cups really disintegrate, or don’t you care? I don’t know if you have a regular cup, many do, especially if they give to charities without taking the beneficial artist mug. When I leave my cup in the care by mistake, my day starts differently if I don’t’ have my cup. I sometimes spill on myself due to unfamiliarity with the opening. Could it be that it also tastes better? I know that it feels better and that it means that I didn’t lose it.