Category: Living

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 29, 20249:23 pm

Why?

To say that coastal San Diego is paradise understates the consistently mild climate and the shockingly fertile growing environment. Plant a seed, something will grow—even bearing flowers and/or fruit multiple times during 12 months. Food is aplenty and too often wasted, as the Featured Image indicates.

I came upon the fallen fruit, presumably a variety of apple, today along Louisiana Street in my neighborhood of University Heights. I wondered: Why? Why waste good food, given as a gift of the fantastic climate conditions? There are homeless folks and hungry families all around the area. If you don’t want the bounty, put it out for someone to take. Generosity isn’t any easier than something you have no need for that another person might desperately and gratefully accept.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 28, 20246:42 pm

I Boycott the Paris Olympics

I am more than a little surprised to be writing this post. But here we unexpectedly are. I stand with those people criticizing the 2024 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony’s mock Last Supper as mocking Christianity—and the almighty God, for that matter. In what appeared to be a live reenactment of the famous painting by Leonardo DaVinci, the actors were either drag queens or some simply dressed as such.

The Summer games officially began in Paris on July 26. Today, spokesperson Anne Descamp apologized to anyone offended by the, ah, banquet scene. If BBC reporting is accurate, explanation is as offensive, if not more. From the story: “The ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, said there was no intention to ‘mock or denigrate anyone’ and explained the scene in question was designed to reference pagan gods”.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 26, 20249:21 pm

Second Sighting, Still Ugly

What a surprise is this! Another Tesla Cybertruck, seen within week’s time, but parked in an alley. The other, a different color, was a drive-by. I mean no disrespect to the owners, but what is the appeal? Futuristic design—like from B-science fiction movies?

Because I swear that the angler, boxy, bulky design is straight out of some filmmaker’s dystopian dream. Look to Blade Runner, Freejack, Timecop, or Total Recall, among others, for influence and as reference.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 19, 20249:17 pm

Swing to the Beat

For the first time this month, I hauled down to Old Trolley Barn Park for the third Friday night of summer concerts. Performing this evening: San Diego Funk All Stars. I more or less sauntered through, taking a few quickies using Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra.

I carry Leica Q2 less often than ever and seriously consider selling it. I love the camera, but the smartphone is convenient and the photos are increasingly good enough, particularly as artificial intelligence-enhanced software makes magic happen to most any shot.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 16, 20249:46 pm

Brothers and Hunters

We return to the Allagash, Aroostook County, Northern Maine, and the single-cabin camp that my Uncle Glenn rented from one of the timbering companies—for $100 a year, back in the 1970s. He and my father stand near center in the Featured Image, which my cousin presumably captured.

Real outdoorsmen, real hunters. Yeah, there are too many beer guts, but the brothers were nevertheless hearty and strong. My uncle, the bigger and better-natured man, was about nine years older than his jealous, surly sibling. I often wondered how they could ever be blood relations, because dispositions so differed.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 13, 20249:11 pm

Democracy Under Fire

Somebody sure seems set on changing up the Democrat and Republican candidates running for President. I am not one to peddle conspiracy theories, but, gosh, there are suspicious activities at work that shouldn’t be ignored when evaluated one against the other.

Early evening, Eastern Daylight Time, Donald Trump survived an assassination attempt by a whisker, as the saying goes, during a campaign rally in Butler, Pa. Watching local news coverage from a TV station in Pittsburgh, I listened to an expert explain that three inches left would have been Trump’s nose, rather than his ear. The gentleman explained that, from the shooting distance, the difference was the slightest shift in the wind.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 11, 20249:11 pm

Sound Sentiment

Now that I am (cough, cough) sixty-five, shock and awe rankle me. I always thought of people this age as being old; ancient, really. Now, here I am—one of them. I don’t feel old, but age is apparent from my reflection in the mirror or when walking outside. What seems like a fast pace to me can’t keep up with that of the younger folks; not even close.

Sometime recently, Ron Howard-directed Cocoon came to be available on one of the streaming services. The film released in summer 1985, and I was 25 at the time. I easily identified with the Twenty- and Thirty-something aliens, and I chuckled at the absurdity of the elderly folks hoping to regain some youthful vitality. Gasp. Now I am their age, and that realization caused eerie, queasy emotions while rewatching Cocoon.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 9, 202410:57 pm

The Farmhouse

I continue to mourn loss of the Wilcox farm—the majority of which my father unexpectedly deeded to the pastors of his church during the last weeks of life. He died on April 16, 2024.

The deeding deed was kept secret from immediate family until after he had passed. I attempted to contact the main pastor—twice. He ignored me. Inaction has shaped, or reshaped, my perspective about the incident, which won’t be publicly shared here.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 7, 202411:13 pm

Do you Feel…?

You may want to rethink that yes, if the answer. We have come to perilous times, where conspiracies make more sense than commonsense. Take, for example, Joseph Biden’s debate debacle with Donald Trump. An astute observer should have seen Biden’s cognitive decline years ago. I am no expert, and it was obvious to me—and plenty of other folks. Now, post-debate, Biden’s brain, and the continuation of his campaign, are the dominant topics seemingly everywhere. But something smells fishy here—and it ain’t good.

The Commission on Presidential Debates, a nonpartisan organization, is responsible for organizing the face-off between candidates, which typically starts some time following each respective political party’s convention. CPD had scheduled four debates, with the first slated for Sept. 16, 2024, at Texas State University in San Marcos. In a statement, the organization explains that it received a “letter dated May 15, 2024 from Jen O’Malley Dillon, Campaign Chair for the Biden-Harris Campaign, in which the Biden-Harris Campaign informed the Commission that President Biden will not agree to debate under the sponsorship of the Commission during the 2024 general election campaign”. The B-H campaign decided to organize its own debates, and Trump agreed to participate.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 1, 20247:48 pm

Street Preaching

The Featured Image, taken by an unknown photographer, puts me on a New York City street in either the summer of 1980 or `81—I don’t recall which. That would make me 21 or 22 years-old, with hair!

Good friend Andy Morris looks on. My recollection of him is his infectious, and friendly, smile. Where is it, Andy? Was I that boring? Looking at how stiff I appear to be, maybe I wasn’t so good a street preacher.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 30, 202410:06 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Chippy

The month ends, and we close the first half of the year, with the one-hundred-third kitty seen along Alabama Street, somewhere between boundaries Adams and Lincoln, since the series‘ start in October 2016. My wife and I came upon this fine feline on June 15, 2024.

I used Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra to capture the Featured Image and companion. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 50, 1/125 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 10:34 a.m. PDT. The other is same but ISO 40, one-minute earlier.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 28, 20247:47 pm

Requiem for the Farm

Two months ago, or thereabouts, on March 27, 2024, my father signed over title to a large portion of the family farm to the two pastors of his local church. The transfer of ownership was quite unexpected and was not disclosed—to my sister—until after he died on April 16. We all understood that he intended to will the property to the couple, but his estate would pass through the typical legal process first.

Since my grandfather’s will hadn’t been probated, the older document might supersede the other—something I presumed a lawyer and judge would sort out. That process would be opportunity to also open a discussion with the pastors about final disposition of the approximately 100 acres. The unexpected transaction nullified everything—unless the older will is legally enforceable. I wouldn’t know.