Corn and Cob Have a Presidential Pardon, however

- - -  many of the rest of the flock were roasted at 325° until done. Of course, I'm talking about a few

                           Wild Turkey along the Trinity River Basin near the Medical District

turkeys---animals. It happens every year. We humans have a name for it---well, at least for Corn and Cob. They are now officially: Rescued Turkeys. I find no small bit of humor in that. There are 200,000 pets who are referred to as rescue animals but the fact of the matter is that many will not ever find "their forever home or family" or be pardoned like Corn and Cob. The pandemic has kept 13% of the one million plus animals in shelters from being rescued this year. Rescues finding new homes are down that much.

Meanwhile, Corn and Cob will live out their days at a university farm in Iowa. At least, they will get a lot of corn kernels and might even get lucky to have some wheat grain from time to time. In short, they both have a lot to be thankful for this year. More than their fellow turkeys or their canine friends who hunt their fellow cousins,the free and wild turkeys that roam the edge of forest and corn fields. Their feline friends waiting to be rescued don't have as much of a complicated past. But, they need to be rescued also. 

The point is, even we humans are just a part of the food chain. I have always believed that each cell, be it human, animal, fowl and more, is just a  smaller part of a bigger picture we cannot comprehend overall. Our minds are not ready for that now, if ever.  

This is the first year that I have not cooked a full turkey in 20-years. Still, I had a full traditional meal downsized to be grateful and to he thankful. For several years I was always missing something from times past and just could not put my finger on what it was. Then, through a mix up in a grocery delivery restored by original choice, that item, as well as those cut short because of a system failure, was delivered the following day after marking more than half my order the day before as "out of stock".  

Nearly a month ago, I had ordered in a 3-pound frozen turkey breast, green beans, potatoes to be cooked and smashed to perfection later on in the month, cranberry sauce, and a few other items. So, I had anticipated something like a malfunction happening along the way. The small fill in order was for a fresh pumpkin pie and another item that turned out to be that item I had been missing for years and couldn't account for the longing to have that missing mystery item.

On Thanksgiving morning when I started to pull together the kitchen order of the day, the mystery item revealed itself to me. Instantly, I was smiles from ear to ear and as my dear cat had heard me say from year to year before her passing several years ago and when I would talk to here over such happenings, " There it is!"  That

smell of yeast rising throughout the house once again. Mystery item identified by smell.

Since coming home from the hospital, I have cut out bread altogether but I had already decided that on Thanksgiving and Christmas this year, I would have home baked yeast rolls to go with my meal. My grandmother could do wonders with yeast and rolls when I was growing up. I had long decided that she was responsible for my love of smelling that grand smell. As it radiated throughout my house,she had once again pointed me to what being thankful for is more than just a meal. It made my meal complete however. I still cook from scratch so planning meals is not a task for me. 💝 Christmas is coming and that smell of rising yeast rolls will again fill my house.💝 Merry Christmas Corn and Cob. You have escaped another table as centerpiece. Thank goodness!

Lookout! Arthur Gordon Is Off The Shelf Again.

That's right. I took Arthur Gordon off the shelf again. It does seem that his writings have been thoughts to ponder. Both, in the past and in this period of uncertainty. We are now finding ourselves more confused that ever before. While my faith usually lights my path, sometimes, I'm looking for the more simple translations that theologians develop over time. Arthur Gordon has done that. Out side of the bible, Arthur's little book that came to me from a true friend many, many years ago. Alright, more specific, I've been marking the margins and ear cropping pages for 30 years in this copy. The original was copyrighted in 1974 and it has been picked up prior, though not from my own bookshelf. It's strange how things like that work out...you find something and like it and then through the movement of time, you are delivered to the point of re-discovering through the kindness of a friend. But, this time, you are not going to let it escape from your grasp. Hence, The on- and- off of the book shelf, this work continues after another third of a life time. 

Recently, during a discovery mission, I came across another maker of quotes. I like her style much like I like Arthur Gordon. The thing about these two is that one would seem to think that the both of them knew each other and wrote for each other. Now, I'm pretty sure that isn't the case, but the point here is that they run in parallel in some ways that seem to fit like a jigsaw puzzle. That second author is the former long time partner of Gore Vidal, Anaïs Nin. In fact, I just made a post about the Duchess of Sussex  that also reads Anaïs like me. Although, I have probably read Miss Nin for many more years than the Duchess. 

Chapter 6, "The" Gift of Awareness" is the source of much of this theme. Chapter 2, "The Gift of Shared Wisdom" is more dominant of the two chapters. In the chapter, there are four rare encounters Arthur writes about. But, don't miss the keystone of the chapter in the opening introduction page. Arthur wrote that, "In those rare encounters a spark would jump from another person to me." He continued, "Actually, I don't think the setting made any difference. The spark jumped, or it didn't. When it did, it left me changed".

Still in Chapter 6, is one of my most favorite quote, but I was ask by a great University in Israel  to take down the quote because it violated the Intellectual Property Rights of Albert Einstein. Image that. But, never being one to knowingly do that, as my images are also intellectual property, I took the quote down out of respect than any other reason.  But, I can and will continue to site Arthur Gordon's words and book because it is something that needs to spread, especially in a world  that we live in today. If I had a reverse action to Arthur Gordon using one of my images here and there, heck, I'd go shoot a book cover for him no questions ask. If it helps sell a few books for him along the way, I'm a team player here for sure. But, it is in this chapter, number six, that Arthur entitled, "The Deadly Art of Nonliving" that is today's lesson of wisdom.

Arthur Gordon starts out by saying, " Eccentricity has virtually vanished from the American scene." He continues by saying that ," Part of the blame, without much doubt, can be laid squarely on the doorstep of overprotective parents. In hundreds of thousands of homes, I'm convinced, well-meaning fathers and mothers blunt their children's eagerness and sense of adventure with endless barrage of don'ts "  And Arthur Gordon has hit that nail on the head once again. 

As he sums up,"Our ancestors were mercifully free from these merchants of doom.Nobody warned our grandparents that they had better watch every drink because one out of fifteen social drinkers becomes an alcoholic." Gordon goes on with other comparisons that help drive that nail right on the head in truth more than we know some three generations later that find our kids being hoovered over by parents who are afraid that their little snow flake is going to get the Corona by going to school but don't fear that a train load of mental health worries is more real by keeping the kids in home study. I know. There are always those that are going to miss the point outright but it took us three generations to get to this point and its going to take us four more generations to get out of it even if we start right now. Sad. Oh, so sad. 

But, in concluding, Arthur hits the nail squarely on the head once again. " How can I rouse my people make them yearn for something more than pleasant,socially acceptable ways of escaping from life? How can I make them want to thrust forward into the unknown, into the world of testing and trusting their own spirit? Oh, how I wish I knew!, There's only one answer, really. Each of us must be willing, at least sometimes, to chop wood instead of sitting by the fire."

 No, I haven't forgotten about Anaïs Nin. (long-time partner of Gore Vidal.)

#4: Each contact with a human is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it. 

#2: Each friend represent a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

You can see the source for Arthur Gordon's book on our web page under the tab marked Writings

Gordon, Arthur.

     A  touch of wonder

1.Meditations.    1. Title

BV4832.2     242    74-23794 

ISBN 8007-5172-8 (pbk)

Copyright                       1974 by Fleming H. Revell Company, Old Tappan, New Jersey

 

Thanks to the No Mask Wearers for Todays Text

 I've felt pretty safe from the Corona riding the buses and trains. However, this past week I have noticed more and more people not wearing their mask. What is even more interesting is that most of the politicians that seem to think that wearing them has allowed us to open up the economy, which is a good thing, yet, they are the very ones that wear the mask until it is time to speak, then they cast the mask aside as if nothing was happening. Joe Biden is one. Kamala Harris is another. I'm not pointing them out to be political...rather, to point out the old adage: "do as I say, not as I do." 

On the bus and the train on Thursday after my doctor's appointment, I noticed many without mask and it is a requirement to ride DART. Yet, there were no fare police checking and no DART officers checking about mask. So, with this coming week being perfect autumn weather and with Dallas County doubling the number of cases in one day to 1500, I'm not going anywhere but my porch. It's going to be a long winter, folks.

It was obvious at the Notre Dame vs.Clemson football game last week when there was 100 yards of human flesh neck to neck and shoulder to shoulder on the field celebrating the victory. Now, I've been in the "big house in Ann Arbor" and I know what 112,000 people feel like and look like. Since Notre Dame was okayed by U of M to build their stadium as an exact duplicate of Michigan Stadium, there was a clause that only allowed Notre Dame to construct to 3/4 scale of Michigan Stadium, or "the big house". So, take away 25 percent from 112,000 and you still have 100 yards of human flesh...most which did not have mask on following the rush onto the field. Ironically, I was also in the "big house" when Michigan gave Wisconsin a big whooping 63-0. Ironically, Wisconsin plays the Maze and Blue this coming week and the Badgers are favored to win. But, I'll go out on a limb here and say," they ain't gonna win no 63-0, folks"

Therefore, one of those beautiful days will be spent in the house watching the game, but I would rather be out walking with my camera, especially this time of year with this kind of weather. But, the risk has just increased so, that I would be a fool to go out any farther than I could walk. It really is frustrating that people are so self-centered that they not only risk their own health, their families health and the health of others that have as much right to be out and go as they do. But after all, that is what self-centered is, isn't it? 

I'm truly fearful that our economy is going to tank. The handwriting was forecast some 18-20 months ago when the early signs that the economy was going to tank. Now, one of two things: either someone had insider info that the virus was going to happen, or no one paid any attention to the economist that follow this stuff in the big think tanks. And, as always, someone is gonna get rich in the long run. The question now, is who? Those are the ones that I keep a close eye on, because as mom taught, "those are the ones you want to avoid in life".  And, the older I get, I see her wisdom come full circle time and time again. 

Now, to be perfectly fair about the comments above, my goal was to have 10,000 images on line by the end of 2020. At the time that goal was set, I didn't know that 5 surgeries and a pandemic later, I'd be hard pressed to meet that goal. But, I am a fighter and my work ethics have always been extremely high. So, with the determination and the drive to get things done, I set out to accomplish my goal. Yes, here it is: "I was a bit self-centered myself." At this writing, I have, with the help of some of my agents, published to date, 9,990 of that 10,000 image goal. Which reminds me, I need to update that in my profile on Twitter. So, what happens then? Well, that's still  is in the synopsis of my inkwell so-to-speak.

Finally, someone ask me the other day why I didn't list my pictures (there words, not mine) on Flickr? There is two simple reasons. One, its a way some photographers monetize their images as workflow. I do the same, but do it in a much different form than most. In fact, I might come out just a bit more than my Flickr friends. Two, ever look at the images on Flickr? There are a couple image houses whether they know it or not, like Google and Flickr that are building photo image bases that are their assets with or without your copyrights. It's called "assets" just like the one in accounting. Just like your 401 is your asset, your image becomes their asset over time. It's gotten so out of hand now, that I don't even concern myself with it anymore. What I do concern myself with is that the reason I don't list with Flickr at all (et al) is that most of the shots are nice and pretty and places that the photographer probably will never see again. I happen to like the wagon wheel approach where you watch an area change over time through your images. That is why I choose the "ole wagon wheel"  in the first place. It affords me that opportunity to see changes in an Urban setting. It is like going on vacation vs. coming back home where your roots are, your house is, your friends are, and yes, your love of photography capturing your world on a daily basis. That's where the coffee table books got started and has changed over time. I remember the Toledo Blade published a 'coffee table book' after the Kennedy Assassination, named, "The Torch Is Passed". I  knew then, that as much as I loved photography at that time, that to see my work turn into a coffee table book of images was just not my thing. However, it came to mind with perfect harmony when the photographer that shot the parking spot of Air Force One while Kennedy was on his last limo ride, was searched for and found so that the actual coordinates could be calculated from the image so that a bronze marker could be placed in the tarmac at Love Field, here in Dallas. That's the kind of history an old photographer like me likes to contribute to history. And as some say, "make ripples" so you are never dead... line.  Like Beethoven or Handle with their music. 250 - years later Beethoven is still on the human tongues of humanity. That isn't self-centered at all. That is just good stuff still riding on his ripple wave in time. 

My grandfather in 1888 at the age of 4 years. The image is from the original that I have actually

held when my grandmother surprised every one that she had cherished most of her life before passing it on to my uncle. My mom had this copy made from that original some time after 1952 when my grandfather passed. My grandmother knew that my mom would not be getting the original 1888 image, so she gave her permission to my mom to have a copy made from  a profession lab. This picture hangs on my living room wall today. While my grandfather was a business man and ran a grocery story in a corner of several cotton field where John Grisham's  "painted house" was centered, my grandfather was also a United States Marshall that quail hunted with major league baseball figures from pitchers like Preacher Row of the New York Dodgers to the boys of  Detroit and  St. Louis and Chicago teams. I still remember being in our kitchen when the phone rang and my mom answered to learn that my grandfather had passed away within the past hour. I remember my grandfather being in his bed covered over and  seeing my grandfather in his casket for the first time before anyone else, the funeral that packed the Methodist church,both inside and out and being at the grave site where he was interred. My mom is next to him at that cemetery and I will be laid to rest next to her. Three generations of us together. My grandmother, several years after his death, married her boyfriend from school and is buried a 100 miles away. The whole cemetery where my grandmother was laid to rest is pretty much her whole family so she is not alone.  My dad is buried in the National Cemetery in between. So, the three generations were meant to be together. I cannot help but think that the Trinity of Graves  came about with some divine Intervention. There are three types of divine intervention based on this view: Big showy miracles, ordinary displays of God's mercy, and one act of love so powerful it gave us the reason for our faith.I like to think that the divine intervention that I'm thinking of is the latter --one act of love so powerful it gave us the reason for our faith.

Commuting Like Clockwork

 The last two days have been doctor's appointments from South to North. The planning to make the trip to the doctor's also was to allow added time to do some exploring and shooting. Long story shorter, it all worked like clockwork. Yesterday, however, was the reward for the planning after the chip failure of the day before cut short my shooting. 

Somehow, I scheduled my appointment with the cardio electrician later than I had planned and did not allow for the shortening of the days sunlight. Also, the appointment ran almost three times the normal length and by the time I had  finished, the sun was setting and I still had a bus ride, a train ride and another bus ride. As luck sometimes work on your side, it did mine yesterday and I caught my bus, my train and my second bus as if they were waiting for me. I was far enough North that the train ride figured in as an option actually worked to my advantage and cut a half hour off my trip. As it ended, I walked into the house from the bus in the dark and my house was even more dark. I had failed to leave a light on. For years I set a timer, did not replace the old timer when it wore out because I was never out past dark.

Now, the best part. Not only have I managed to successfully cover a doctor's appointment that has been a worry, of sorts, since giving up my car but, it turned out to be better and worry free having fulfilled the actual first trip. Most of all, it opened up new doors for shooting in the spring time through next fall. I'm excited for that fact alone. Talking to my doctor he was stunned that I could navigate the Metroplex without a car and confirmed to me that what I had accomplished was "very interesting, interesting indeed". 

Walked 5, Tacoed Lunch at a Hospital Cafe and Ran out of Digital Room

 That's how my day went this Veterans Day. It was absolutely beautiful outside. Walking White Rock Creek Trail was interesting and I was really getting back into the swing of things when the shutter on the camera would not click. Looking to see what was wrong, instantly, the message would have normally sent me scrambling but there was no need, I could see clearly, that I had failed to put the extra chip case into my backpack. I could not even be mad at me.

Before going to bed last night, I made sure that all the batteries were fully charged and packed the things I need on the trail. Water, being a must year round. How could I forget to check the space left on the chip in the camera? Much less fail to see where the extra chip would be. You see, I have had to change out two or three over-the-shoulder bags because of the weight limits. The doctor had instructed me that I was not to carry any weight heavier than two half-gallons of milk. So I re configured my camera bag; then a little larger one as time went on. I know, how much does an SD chip weigh some of you are thinking. That's not the point. The point lives in the confusion it brings to the mix. Weight had nothing to do with the weight limit here with that chip and case. But,confusion will snag you every time. That's one reason I will take order over confusion all day long. But failed to do so, today!

So, leaving the house earlier than normal, I had a bowl of raisin brand with granola before heading out. By 11:30 I would have two hours before my doctor's appointment. So I walked back to the front of the Hospital and headed to the cafe area where two restaurants share a common seating area with plenty of room to social distance. When it was time to order, lunch became  a  trilogy  of chicken tacos with the first pop that I have had since given them up in March. I am a sports fan of people watching and so, the tacos were eaten slowly enough that I could enjoy not only the tacos, but the time it took to eat them rather than that hurry mode that most of us get into over time. In fact, I was watching several that came into the seating area with their lunch bags find a table, sit down and opening those Tupperware containers. In the past year, I cannot remember having such an enjoyable lunch.

After leaving the cafe area, I moved out into the Atrium. There are several large fountains that have polished wood benches around them.The three fountains all were covered with coins in the bottom. Well wishes and hopes for family members were obvious and the art displays I have not paid much attention to of late so I did enjoy that too. I could see my doctor's suite up on the third floor from the Atrium. I don't like being late to appointments.Never have. Never Will. So by the time I grabbed one of the elevators that was empty, I headed to the appointment about 15 minutes early. Got an excellent report and the worry about cancer went away, although that is two near misses in the past year. 

On leaving, I found the bus stop closer to where I came out than the one I used to go in from my walk. It was on to the train station to catch my ride home. Walking into the house, I had been on an outing that passed my previous outing elapse time by yet another hour. This was my longest outing to date and only three and a half weeks from my last surgery. I was a happy camper. Everything had clicked like clock work with the exception of that blasted chip that I forgot to pack last night. You see, if I had checked the storage space last night,even, I could have deleted the files since they were already uploaded to my cloud. But, since I had shot for nearly two hours or more before the camera alerted me, I could not delete anything until I had unloaded the files of today to the cloud. It's that catch-22 syndrome, or better yet, "A dollar short and a day late". It's still a syndrome because by definition, a syndrome is a group of signs and symptoms that occur together and characterize a particular abnormality or condition. The particular abnormality is my brain cat napping or my condition is that of muscle training that doesn't respond like it once did because I  lost it because of ill-use. So, the final analysis of the day is that I am near normal as a human being that lets a simple thing like a little SD chip call out to me: Hey, Putz! And there is no way I can deny that after such a perfect day. 

Stunned at the Openspace of the Arts District is Gone

 It has been nearly a year since I explored the Dallas Arts District gumshoe style. While I do like to see the growth that Dallas is undergoing and what it brings into the fold of being a Dallasite, the Flora Street corridor has all but encased the Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center with high rises. Coupled with the additions to the Diocese of Dallas' Cathedral of Guadalupe at Ross and Pearl, even that pedestrian walkway is now all but gone. Let's not even begin to talk about what has happened on the south side of  Klyde Warren Park at Pearl and Woodall Rodgers specifically. Medium high rise luxury residents are now anchored in downtown on the south side of Woodall Rodgers.

There was a wedding going on at Cathedral Guadalupe so I avoided the east side of Pearl, instead wandering from Klyde Warren farther south to Pacific. It will be a couple of weeks of walking down there before I get a complete handle on just what has grown, what has been replaced or moved as a result of the construction this past year. It must be pointed out that being on foot and gumshoeing it has opened up many new doors and avenues for some great shots. 

One thing that I have discovered in short order is that a car can be somewhat of a crutch in photography. I guess that I always knew that, but now in the post car era, I can see it plain as day. Put another way, I see it on the edit desk and can zoom in even more than I would if I was just looking through the view finder regardless of the number of mm and settings. That's another thing that has raised its visual head. "Hey, look at me,"

it screams and I have all but put the long lens away and maybe for good. I'm the first one to recognize shifts and changes around me, but I am my own most stubborn friend to my self. Sometimes, you just need to back off all the Social Media Experts that have this country on some kind of electronic drug floating through the air and just sit quietly observing  in a different kind of way. The results are stunning and having been jarred to a new sense of self, I am, without doubt, better for the experience.

One and Two Things I Miss From The Great Lakes

 It made no difference which way I went, the Ambassador Bridge or the Windsor Tunnel, the fact of the matter was that to get from Detroit over to Windsor, the Detroit River had to be crossed. If I had a choice when it came to traffic, I would rather wait in the custom lines on the Ambassador Bridge rather than the lines at the Windsor Tunnel. If I was going to wait, I wanted the option of having a view and the bridge provided that to me.  Once clearing customs, I knew my way to the beautiful rose gardens the city of Windsor, Ontario maintained for years. Decades ago, I was coming back from South Carolina on the company plane and we came in over Windsor. I spotted the rose gardens instantly. We were headed over the top of the RenCen in downtown Detroit on our final into Detroit City (now Coleman Young) Airport. Low and behold, there was my crossing of the Detroit River with another option. One from about 1500 feet with one heck of a view. Sure beat the Ambassador and the Tunnel that day. And, from the Ambassador you could switch over to CKLW in Windsor, and get the top 40 songs playing.

A lot of people do not like Detroit. I have always loved the Motor City. Times have changed without question but the good 'ole days of Jimmy Lontz and J.P McCarthy coming into my car from the Golden Tower of the Fischer Building, from the studio's of WJR760, (The Great Voice of the Great Lakes) was something I still miss today. WJR was a 50,000 clear channel station that could be picked up in most of the mid-west and east coast at night. I've picked it up here in Dallas when there was a lot of bounce (skip) in the atmosphere. Both Jimmy and J.P. are now gone but I can't imagine Lakewood Ranch, Florida as a retirement home for Jimmy...he was a once-in-a-lifetime personality.  J.P. was much the same but Jimmy had more humor than J.P. thumbs down. Yet both were at the top for radio personalities and I am better for having know them both.