With Reckless Abandon

This picture hasn't stopped making me chuckle since I took it last week. This little lad was having a fantastic time diving headlong into the crystal-clear water of this pool. Technically, he wasn't breaking the 'No Cannonballs' rule although formal rules had, as of last week, yet to be legitimized in print despite some playful yet poignant nagging from the hostess.

(Nikon D300, 55mm, f/2.8, 1/2000, ISO 200, cropped)

The power of the mustache compels you!

About an hour ago (3:00 am), for reasons I don't yet understand, I was inexplicably compelled to shave my vacation beard but during the process something strange happened. Perhaps I was getting tired and lazy, or perhaps it was an overdose of cheesecake making the decisions, but now I have a mustache.
I've always hated them, yet here upon my face sits a creepy lip-weasel. Just having this fuzzy, little nose-hugger on my face makes me feel like a dirty old man, and when I look in the mirror my upper lip seems to epitomize everything I've ever associated with porn-stars.
And yet I'm facinated by it!
It seems to have a mind of its own; a power of some kind. It imbues me with confidence, self-esteem, and smarminess.

As The Tick once said about his own new mustache:

"This changes everything. I feel... different. Better. A new sensation is spreading out from my upper lip to every other part of my body. It's a feeling that I just can't quite describe. It's a savvy kind of feeling. A suavey kind of feeling. Kind of a.. kind of a mustache feeling!"

"Rugged, self-assured, adult. These are the words that describe the man who wears a mustache. Yes, it says to the world, 'I'm a man of action!' Ah, but action tempered with maturity. Like a fireman... or somebody's dad! Y'know, most of your world leaders have mustaches!"

I think I'm beginning to understand what happens to some people who fall victim to the hairy, style-free drug. Luckily for everyone, when I wake up I'll immediately finish the shaving job I started but until then I'll sleep with the confidence of an adult video star!
(Nikon D300, 200mm, f/5.6, 1/100, ISO 200)

World enough, and time

To celebrate my oh-so-short vacation and my plans of 'doing nothing' this week, here is a simple split-second sample of the fireworks that lit up my heart on its first day, although you'll have to add your own angelic trumpeting and fanfare. Actually, I want to accomplish a long list of things I've been putting off for months but it seems unlikely that I'll find the motivation. Procrastination, enemy mine. There's so much to do, I don't know where to start anymore. Too much world, too short a life. I just need to pick something and do it. I think Andrew Marvell said it best in his poem: To His Coy Mistress. My life needs more carpe diem in it. (Nikon D300, 24mm, f/11, 2 sec, ISO 200)

Bring on the Chill

This watery image reminds me that, in Canada, our summer is already half over (or, to be an optimist, half begun) but I'm ready for the less debilitating chill of autumn anyway.

Although this water (in Vieques, Puerto Rico) was warm, inviting, and wonderful for snorkeling, ours will soon again be ice. With most of my superpowers being neutralized by the heat, I, for one, will welcome our new wintery overlords. (Sony DSLR-A100, 18mm, 1/80, ISO 100)

Impatience

I've been here a few days now but this place no longer feels like home. I'm fine with it because I expected it. It's called reverse culture shock. It's always a little disconcerting but the feeling goes away as I get more comfortable with being back here. Now the question is whether or not I want to get comfortable. I believe this can be answered with the question: How soon can I leave?

I took this photo during a walk through Regent's Park in London, England. The little fellow was probably waiting for food, or Godot, neither of which appeared while I was there. Then, as now, the only thing that showed up while we waited was the future.

(Olympus C770UZ, details unknown, cropped)

Indifference

I have returned once more to the true north strong and free and this time I'm planning on staying a while. My flights were both quiet and uneventful which, to me, is wonderful. I recognized the flight crew, which isn't unusual, and they recognized me, which is. There was only an hour delay in Newark and anyone who's connected through EWR will say that's not bad at all. So over all, I'm pleased.

Because of my relocation and resettling, however, I've been slack with posting so today I'm punishing myself with these cold blue-grey eyes of apathy. This cat, whom I met in Puerto Rico, would never have accepted my excuses and knowing that is my punishment.

His intermittent mewling of disinterestedness and his utter lack of concern wounds my soul as only a cat can. I strive to hear the nonchalant purr of indifference that would mean his not un-approval.

I will do better, Señor Gato!

(Sony DSLR-A100, 70mm, f/5.6, 1/125, ISO 160)

Metamorphosis

New York, July 2006:
They had lowered their voices to harsh whispers so I could no longer make out what was being said, but I had ducked behind a display of primitive tools and could still see the exchange. He was uttering his demands through clenched teeth and I could see spit flying as he did so, but she was clearly holding her own and jabbed him accusingly in the chest with a finger, not backing down despite the veins bulging on his forehead. It was then that he raised his hand suddenly and slapped her. I really hadn't seen that coming and, unfortunately, neither had she as she dropped to the floor out of sight.
As I timidly hid, I was suddenly struck with the realization of how my inaction had caused Jessica to get hurt and emasculated me at the same time. This had two effects, the first was a deep and unprecedented level of shame, and the second was an intense, blazing flare of purpose.
I stood, walked out from behind the display case while making myself as big and imposing as I could, and cleared my throat confidently.
"It takes a pretty tough guy to slap a woman around. Care to try that on me?"
Leo turned to me, flashing a snarl. He didn't seem panicky, scared, or anxious in any way.
This was not the effect I had been hoping for but it was the one I should have expected.
Growling and seemingly ready to pounce, Leo took a step toward me then lunged. I stepped to the side, dodging his initial attack but he reversed direction and clipped my head with his elbow. Despite being more of a lover than a fighter, I have taken my fair share of elbows to the head and shrugged it off, smirking. It was clear, though, that I wouldn't be victorious in a battle of muscles so I tried something simple first. I backed toward the Homo Erectus display. He followed warily.
"You know you're on camera, right?" I said, indicating the wall above my shoulder, behind me.
Like everyone who doesn't want their face on camera, the first thing he did was look directly at it before quickly turning away, cursing... but he was still advancing on me.
"Bah," he growled, "it doesn't matter, they never check the tapes."
"Are you sure? Because I think security..." I smashed the closest display case, "...is on their way right now."
An ear-splitting alarm went off and, wide-eyed, he bolted for the exit.

I wouldn't see him again for almost two years.
Jessica was suddenly at my side.

"Thank you!" She yelled to be heard above the alarm. She grabbed both of my shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes, "We have to get out of here!"
She reached into the display case I had broken. Primitive jewelry, apparently.
"What are you doing?" I asked incredulously.
She leaned in so I could hear, "Taking back my Grandmother's necklace, I knew Leo would never find it here. Now that this display is broken, they'll take inventory to make sure nothing was stolen. If I leave it, they'll find they have too many artifacts. I need to find another place..." she trailed off but I could hear the panic in her voice. She was on the verge of tears.
It felt like hours had gone by. Despite it being a good thing for Jessica and I, I couldn't believe that the Security Guards weren't there yet. I knew if someone touched my Homo Erectus, I'd respond much faster.
Jessica grabbed my wrist and we ran for the nearest fire escape.
"I need to find a new hiding place," she blurted again when we got outside. The sun had set behind some buildings which cast long shadows into the streets. Jessica shivered as a chilling breeze blew over us. "If he finds me before then, he'll take it!"
I felt as if her problem was my fault. If only I had intervened sooner, or called security instead of challenging Leo myself, or even broken a different display... I had made a lot of bad choices and had a lot of bad luck.
"I could take it," I blurted, "and we could meet up again tomorrow after you've found another spot."
This seemed to be exactly what she wanted to hear because she immediately calmed. She pushed her hair back behind her ear, and looked around quickly, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, no problem," I lied, "just meet me somewhere tomorrow. How does noon at Hershey's - Times Square sound?"
She grinned, "A crowded public place for the exchange. Even if he follows us, he can't do anything about it!"
Actually, I had been looking for any excuse to go to the chocolate store but I nodded sagely, wise beyond my years.
She was almost glowing with excitement now as we walked quickly south along Central Park West glancing behind as often, and casually, as possible.
"It's hard to believe how much trouble this little thing has been for me." She stopped and opened her hand and cupped in her palm was the necklace. It was very simple, a plain looking gold chain with a small pendant of a bird. "Are you sure you want to take this for me?"
I picked up the necklace and put it in my pocket. "Yes, I'm sure. Find another hiding place and I'll see you tomorrow at the corner of 48th and Broadway."
She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. Her lips were warm and soft but, strangely, her eyes were suddenly full of sorrow. And then she was gone, quickly and quietly vanishing in the shadows of twilight.
I wouldn't see her again for almost two years.

(Nikon D300, 200mm, f/5.6, 1/60, ISO 220, edited to remove haze)

Convergence

New York, July 2006:
By the time I arrived at the American Museum of Natural History fifteen minutes later, I had almost forgotten the chance encounter in Central Park and had started humming Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera which I had the privilege of experiencing the night before.

I climbed the stairs and held the door for a gentleman who was exiting the museum as I tried to enter. He nodded his thanks and, hearing me humming the familiar Phantom track, burst into a grin and started humming as well. For a moment, I was afraid that we were going to be forced into an impromptu musical song and dance routine (à la Disney) right there on the stairs but he turned from me and continued on his way audibly pleased with his mental orchestra.
I chuckled to myself, remembering my Keats, 'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter' referring to how music that plays in your mind is perfect, limited only by your own imagination.
I entered the building and bought a ticket to wander the grounds and started doing so, heading first to the epic Cosmic Collisions space show and from there to the rest of the exhibits I wanted to see in the little time I had before closing. As the day wore on, I found myself less and less likely to be disturbed by others (read: children) as their parents noticed the lateness of the day and left the building for one reason or another.
It was when I entered the Hall of Human Origins and saw Jessica across the room that I remembered that she was going to be there. She was facing a Homo Erectus display and hadn't seen me yet. I puffed out my chest and took one step toward her when, also apparently not seeing me, the angry man from the Museum of Modern Art briskly entered the room. He grabbed her arm and roughly spun her around, "Where is it?" he demanded, hissing through gritted teeth.
"It's not yours, Leo." Jessica answered calmly, a small quaver in her voice the only evidence of her fear.
"I've more right to it than you or your grandmother ever had!" His voice rising, his statement filled with poison and disdain.
"Before you killed her, I promised her you wouldn't get it," she spat, "I intend to keep that promise!"
What?? I had just been thrust into a highly uncomfortable situation. I stepped slowly backward, out of the room. The one thing I knew at that moment was that I didn't want them to know that I had heard any of their obviously incriminating conversation.

Crap.

(Sony DSLR-A100, 35mm, f/5.6, 1/60, ISO 100)

PBFC

New York, July 2006:
I strutted into Central Park with a small sheen of sweat on my brow, an ice cream, and a smile. It was gorgeous out! Sunny, with a slight breeze to keep you cool.

Glancing around, I saw a photographer taking photos of a wedding party in the trees and offhandedly thought how it might be nice to make money with a camera. My ice cream, melting rapidly, almost dripped onto my hand and I chided myself for becoming distracted, Focus, man! While it was unlikely that even a single drop would escape from Waffle-cone Alcatraz, I had to remain vigilant! Jealous joggers and whining, covetous children walked by at whom I smirked and stuck out my tongue when their parents weren't looking. Ice cream and a nature walk, a wonderful combination. Even the tangy musk wafting from the nearby Central Park Zoo couldn't overpower Peanut Butter Fudge Crunch, the ice cream of the gods.
Knowing the Museum of Natural History to be along Central Park West, I headed north along the path accordingly. It was hard to believe that this park was in the middle of the most densely populated city in the United States. You could probably visit the park every day for months and never meet the same person twice! Blissfully, I strolled along, in my own little world for a while, thankful for the break from the crowds.
It was when I was down to the bottom third-of-a-cone nub and I was entering the usual sugar-induced, panicky state of acute hyper-awareness that I heard her voice.
"Is that Peanut Butter Fudge Crunch?"
"It's mine! Get your own!" I turned to hiss defensively, Gollum-like, at the voice.
It was Jessica again. She was grinning at me, her blonde hair gently kissing her cheek in the breeze.
"I'm Heidi, we met in passing an hour ago about a chair."
I remembered. I hated that chair.
I was impressed that she recognized the flavor of ice cream though, and said so. This was followed by an awkward silence.
A small child ran between us and down the path toward the Wildlife Center. A young looking, dark-haired woman, presumably his mother, was giving chase but looked haggard and out of breath.
I popped the last bit of cone in my mouth frowning. Jessica giggled.
"Well," she said, "I'm heading over to the history museum, just thought I'd say thanks for earlier." She leaned in closer and lightly touched my arm.
"Thanks? For what?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah," she grinned, crinkling her nose, "for not giving me up to Leo." She brushed her hair back behind her ear and turned to walk away. "Maybe I can repay the favor sometime?"
"But," I stammered, accurately recalling an hour ago, "I didn't do anything."
I stood on the path for a moment longer, confused, as she walked away. With my acute hyper-awareness quite obviously fading fast, I realized that she was probably heading to the same museum as I was, but I hesitated in catching up with her.

Heidi? Hadn't she said her name was Megan? I really hadn't been paying that much attention, I suppose I could have mis-heard her. Besides, now that I wasn't being irritated by modern art and wasn't focusing on ice cream, I noticed she had a kind of 'Diane Kruger with brown eyes' look that wasn't unappealing.
And with that realization in mind I decided I would not chase her, as running is not my style, but instead would just watch for her when I arrived at the museum...

(Nikon D300, 42mm, f/4.5, 1/60, ISO 800, changed white-balance to fluorescent)