Sigma DP1 returns for a palm shot to which I jacked up dehaze in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom to produce the punchy Featured Image. Vitals: f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/100 sec, 28mm (film equivalent); 11:50 a.m. PDT, April 12, 2008. This one is composed as captured.
Looking at the date stamp, my question: Where did 15 years go? And another: Why do I barely recognize San Diego’s cultural and urban landscapes?
The title of this post is the question I kept asking myself while walking along the streets nearby the hospital where our daughter recuperates. Charming. Quaint. Throwback. All are appropriate. Many of the houses are older, with bountiful yards teaming with plants, trees, and wildlife (mostly birds and butterflies). The smells and sounds are so idyllic.
I saw nothing but single-family homes, at a time when across San Diego County so-called Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) pop up in backyards faster than and as abundantly as mushrooms after the rain. Buildings are leveled to make way for multi-resident housing. Renovations turn homes with character into caricatures.
“She talked” is how our daughter’s nurse greeted me today. That statement upfront is so I don’t bury the lede. But behind it are several tumultuous days of disappointment and progress.
Consider this the third installment about our adult child, who suffered oxygen-deprivation following an incident that receives no explanation for now. “Our Family Emergency Revealed” and “From Intubation to Extubation” are parts one and two, respectively. Because my Facebook is deactivated (since July 2019), this post means to update relatives and any one else interested in following the saga.
Google Photos suggested something I couldn’t refuse: This fragrant flower from the courtyard of our old apartment—15 years ago. Your math is right: March 17, 2008. Better still, the Featured Image comes from one of my most loved and loathed digital compacts: Sigma DP1. Vitals: f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/125 sec, 28mm (film equivalent): 9:44 a.m. PDT.
Something isn’t right that teaches an important lesson about metadata and the passage of time. According to my story about procuring the camera, I didn’t purchase the shooter until March 27, 2008. How could I take a photo 10 days before buying? Oh, these are the mysteries.
Another archived find, once again saved by Google Photos, is a mug Mom sent for my birthday nine years ago. The thing isn’t my style, and I fumed she spent so much money shipping the bulky thing. Mom was sweet and notoriously generous, but her resources were limited. I ached when seeing the postal costs.
As such, the coffee cup languished until Annie recently remembered it tucked away. She kindly sends black Café Bustelo to the hospital with me, which saves $2.60 (buying Starbucks from the facility’s eatery). The mug is too big, but that’s okay. Taking the present along, I am reminded of Mom when visiting our daughter.
Keeping things simple tonight, and a bit more cheerful, I share something sweet and silly. Neko hides in one of two blankets that Annie and I received following our blessed marriage ceremony in Korea on Jan. 12, 1989. I can’t find the original file; this comes from a Google Photos backup.
I used Fujifilm X-E1 to capture the Featured Image, on Nov. 24, 2013. Vitals: f/4, ISO 3200, 1/28 sec, 55mm; 4:32 p.m. PST. This camera, like its successors, is greatly underrated. Detail here is sharp, even at higher ISO.
I am a committed practitioner of Occam’s Razor, which adapted to my troubleshooting thinking translates to something like: A problem’s simplest solution starts with answering “What changed?” Applying that principle, I honed in on a simple, specific cause of my daughter’s lethargy. I stepped back from my obsession about dialysis and asked the question. Answer: She started receiving antiseizure medicine the day before her sudden sluggishness.
Recap: Last night, I explained that our daughter is in one of the local hospital’s intensive care units. To be clear, I won’t turn this blog into a blow-by-blow account of her recovery (whatever that may be). But open-ended story about her plight, and today’s happenings, are reasons for quick follow up.
While waiting more than 90 minutes in an ICU and surgery recovery waiting room today, I let distraction interfere with my appreciating the brightly-lit, tastefully charming, spirit uplifting surroundings, which included an American flag. Considering how the Stars and Stripes has come to represent all that some people see as wrong about the country, the banner’s presence surprised but delighted.
I took the opportunity to use Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra‘s 50-megapixel camera. The Featured Image shows off some fine detail (zoom in to see)—only rivaled (and exceeded) by the smartphone’s 200MP alternative. Vitals: f/1.7,ISO 160, 1/60 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 1:36 p.m. PST. The photo is cropped but otherwise unchanged.
For the third day in a row—and possibly many more for awhile—I present another placeholder post. I used Nikon D70 to capture the Featured Image on March 12, 2005. Vitals: f/4.5, ISO 200, 1/60 sec, 70mm; 5:51 p.m. EDT.
I believe that our daughter made the penguin thermometer during school art class. Location is my basement office, where we all shared computer space. She had her own PC but activity was monitored by the best parental software available anywhere: Me. She had unrestricted Web access because I monitored her with a glance. Besides, the Internet was less dangerous (and pornographic) to youngsters 18 years ago.
I am not a big fan of sunset snaps, simply because they’re so cliché. But this one, from Aug. 22, 2008, brings back memories of bonfires on Mission Bay Park. I used Canon EOS 40D to take the Featured Image. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 800, 1/200 sec, 85mm; 7:57 p.m. PDT.
We had only lived in San Diego for about 10 months. So much about the city and region seemed so exotic. In the weeks following, our innocence disappeared, along with that of many other people, as financial dominoes rapidly fell, leading to global economic crisis, which somebody coined the econolypse.
The days when rain isn’t falling, but the ground is wet and the air sweet Spring fresh and moist, are delightful. Over on Louisiana Street, some young men made festive the late afternoon of Feb. 22, 2023. They skateboarded to boombox rock, and I absolutely loved the spirit and ambiance they created. Why not bang on doors and have an impromptu block party?
Pepto, who is among the “Cats of University Heights” sauntered through the mayhem, taking up observant position by a car. That’s his block, baby.
Wicked winds roared through San Diego on this Ash Wednesday, which is also President George Washington’s birthday (in 1732 by the Gregorian calendar). Sustained, from the West 32 to 40 kilometers per hour (20 to 25 mph) and reaching 72 kph (45 mph) or more.
When the gusts were greatest, my wife and I chose to walk around Westfield Mission Valley rather than endure blowing debris and risk being pelted (injured or killed) by falling/flying palm fronds. We started at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, which was absolutely deserted. I mean, day-after-apocalypse abandoned.