- "Must you take that camera everywhere?" G. asked me recently.
Yes, I must.
Every single time I've left my camera at home, I've regretted it.
Case in point: Halloween night. I was in such a rush I left my camera behind and misssed about two dozen funny, interesting, sexy, or weird "photo ops". I kicked myself in the fanny for days afterwards. (By the way, it's not easy kicking yourself in the fanny. Try it sometime and see for yourself.)
Anyway, here are some (more) photos I took recently.
Happy To Wake To Every Morning Sunshine!
I love my Chinese clock. It's one of my favorite Dollar Store purchases. Printed on the side is the phrase "Happy to wake to every morning sunshine!", and on the face, "Those were sunny days . . ."
Yes, they were.
Hal, bartender at The Drinkery, was wearing only some Christmas boxer shorts, a leather vest, and a Santa hat.
"It's OK if you take a picture," Hal told me, "It's not like I haven't been on the internet before!"
Oh, really, Hal? Do tell!
The Place That Time Forgot
Traveling in time is easy when you know how. Go to Belair Road, between Erdman and Lake Avenues and you'll see a red-striped spinning tube next to a door. Walk through the door and you are intantly transported back in time to at least three decades ago. There is not a fixture or stick of furniture in this barber shop any older than that. There are pictures of Roosevelt on the walls, for Pete's sake. The cash register is even the old-fashioned non-electrical kind.
I expected the Time magazine in the rack to say "Is God Dead?", but the magazines are actually current, but that's about all.
A shave (with a straight razor) and a haircut doesn't cost two bits, though. It'll set you back five dollars.
Plate O' Ramen
Last night's dinner becomes today's photo op.
Mmmmmmm. Beef flavor.
Makes me hungry just looking at it.
You thought when I said I could live on Ooodles of Noodles I was just kidding?
Everyone's A Star
Go to Leon's, in Mount Vernon, and while you're getting your drink on, why not buy a star, or three, or a dozen? They're only a dollar, and all proceeds go to to the Moveable Feast, a very worthy charity that provides hot nutritional meals and groceries for people with AIDS.
Plus, your name goes up on the wall. How cool is that?
Leggo My Legos!
Quick, while it's still there, check out the Lego displays in the windows of the Enoch Pratt Free library -- they're nothing short of amazing.
I remember Legos. I had the big box with like 10,000 pieces. Most of which ended up under the living room sofa, much to my Mother's frustration.
Apparently they don't sell them like that anymore. Now you buy "kits" to make helicopters, submarines, thermonuclear warheads and such.
A pity, really. I think it's more fun to use your imagination.
Riding the bus late last night, there was no one on there but me and this boy who was sleeping in the back.
I slipped my camera out of my pocket . . .
SNAP! I gotcha!
He spontaneously woke up one block before his stop, rang the bell and exited.
Damn, I wish I could do that!
The one time I fell asleep on the bus, I stayed asleep 'til the very last stop and the bus driver had to shake me awake. I never could get the hang of sleeping in public places.
A Secret Place
When the hustle and bustle of city life is dragging you down, don't you know, and you need a few minutes to compose yourself and get your wits together, trot your tootsies to Brown's Arcade (at 326 N. Charles Street). Through the glass doors, past the florist and the cellular phone store, all the way in the back, you'll find a little pocket of paradise. A little park with a cobblestone floor, trees, plants, and a skylight. Sit down on a bench, sip your triple espresso (which can be purchased right across the street at Clayton & Co.) and relax for a few minutes.
I call this my "secret place" because as many times as I've gone, I have never, ever seen anyone else there.
Rico, The Sock Fetishist
My dog Rico loves socks, OK? He loves chewing on them and carrying them around the house in his mouth.
But not just any old socks for him -- no way! They have to be my socks. He doesn't go anywhere near G.'s socks -- only mine. I guess mine must taste better or something.
And not clean socks, either. Dirty, stinky grungy socks from the laundry basket, that's what Rico likes. The stinkier the better. He will dig in the basket until he finds the dirtiest, stinkiest sock there is.
I love him anyway, even though he's a little pervert.
I hope you enjoyed them!
I'll probably do another post like this sometime soon.
It might even become a regular thing. No promises, though.