We went to the Desert Botanical Garden to see Chihuly.
Lots more to follow…
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Once a legitimate blog. Now just a collection of memes 'n menz.
…will never change the fact that I cannot convincingly pull of the catcher look. Not now, not even when I was thirty years younger.
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“San Francisco is my home. I love The City and The City loves me back.” This was a personal affirmation—my mantra if you will—for the first couple years I lived there because as much as I’d like to think I took to the city like fish to water, my ex is always quick to point out the transition was not painless…
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Not me this time, but my late friend Steve Golden, spinning at Hotbods in Phoenix, spring 1983:
And in a more relaxed state of mind…
He always thought me silly because of the number of photos I shot of him at work in the booth, but now, some 39 years (!) later, I’m so glad I did. Yeah, I was new to 35mm photography, never did really get the exposure right, and a lot of the shots are out of focus, but I’m so glad I took them. But that last one? Chef’s kiss…
He would’ve been 64 last year.
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Some days the best I can muster when I’m out in public and dealing with the hordes of unmasked animals, is a selfie-smirk.
Ben takes much better pictures of me than I do of myself. Maybe it’s because he elicits a smile in me when I look at him, such that it is.
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Otherwise known as, “Date Night!”
Las Noches De Las Luminarias is something the Desert Botanical Garden does every year, although Ben and I hadn’t been since 2009. This year we decided to eschew exchanging gifts (we both have everything we want or need materially at the moment), but decided to make Luminarias a shared gift. (We’re also returning in March to capture the ongoing Chihuly exhibition at “golden hour.”)
I just got a new phone, and figured this would be an excellent opportunity to put its camera to the test. It didn’t disappoint.

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San Francisco, September 1993
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Since I had to go digging for that photo of Rosie’s in the last post I’m on a roll…
Some views of downtown San Francisco from the Mandarin Hotel skybridge, July 2000
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I didn’t do it. I swear!
I’m glad we didn’t dally in Los Angeles. Apparently a couple trucks decided to mix it up just east of the California/Arizona border. We luckily got past it right before they shut down one lane of traffic and created a 4 mile backup.
We had a great time on our little getaway, but at the same time I’m glad to be home.
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We were kind of disappointed. We didn’t get to see the two things we booked the Getty for: the photography collection and the post 1800 paintings. “Closed until January 2022.”


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I spotted this at work when I got back from lunch on Thursday. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but from the distance it sort of looked like someone wearing sunglasses and a suit and tie looking out the window. I took a photo in hopes of blowing it up and putting the question to rest, but alas, that didn’t provide an answer. It was gone completely when I left work, so whatever it was moved or had been moved—as was the sheet draped over the window.
I’m going to write it off as a glitch in the Matrix.
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