Category: Living

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Well, Stone the Crows

And I am so glad this bird isn’t a raven (gulp, unless I misidentified, which easily could be). I’ve been humming Stevie Wonder song “Superstition” since the sighting earlier today and only while writing made the subconscious mental connection: Ravens as forebears of bad luck, or worse. But I’m not really superstitious—or wouldn’t be if not for the odd encounter.

While walking along Madison, approaching the alley between North and Campus in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, the flyer landed on a fence beside me. He seemed to want something, and I wondered if perhaps people feed him. Of course, the encounter could have been, uh-hum, an omen. The bird perched long enough for me to step back, pull out Leica Q2, and compose two shots (changing aperture between) before flying off.

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Cheerful, But Serious

I don’t recall seeing this friendly graffiti yesterday—or the day before. I walk past the intersection of Adams and Florida often enough that surely my ever-roving eyes would have seen something and registered so in aging synapses. New or not, zooming in on the Featured Image suggests that the message wasn’t painted but slapped on and glued (look to the apparent air-bubbles typical of paper pressed onto a surface).

Maybe coincidence, or not, the flower is opposite the alley location where I found the “Yellow Peril Supports Black Power” protest placard two days ago. You got to wonder if something—person(s) and/or event—connects the two. The utility box is outside the Adams Substation, which is visible behind, located in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood.

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The Discarded Sentiment

What demonstration marched through the neighborhood unbeknownst to me? While walking with my wife through the alley separating Alabama and Florida streets, I stopped to wonder about the forlorn placard that is the Featured Image. I captured a single photo using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 4:33 p.m. PDT, today.

The message piqued my interest—and as a photographic object, I liked the mood created by bands of light shining through the fence. For your edification (and mine), according to Wikipedia: Yellow Peril “is a racist color-metaphor that represents the peoples of East Asia as an existential danger to the Western world”. Yikes!

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The Cats of University Heights: Bear

This fine feline reminds me so much of our lost Kuma that I spent the better part of an hour comparing photos. Resemblance there is, but nothing more. Our part Maine Coon disappeared on Jan. 15, 2012, and we believe that a coyote got him because city workers found his collar in a nearby canyon fifteen days later.

My daughter chose Kuma, which means bear in Japanese. Hence my choice of nickname for his doppelgänger. On May 22, 2021, as my wife and I crossed Madison moving South along Mississippi, Bear moved just enough behind glass to catch my attention. While the late-afternoon sun illuminated the cat well enough for a portrait, he sat back to me. So Annie and I continued walking, then I stopped and reversed direction for a photo. But he still faced inward, so I started away—then one-eightied once more. As I momentarily stood, iPhone XS ready, Bear turned—and posed! I gulped and wondered: Does he recognize me? Is that Kuma?

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I Won’t Go Soft on Hard Seltzer

Before the Wilcoxes relocated to California from Maryland some thirteen-and-a-half years ago, I generally replaced soda with a couple tablespoons of apple juice mixed with a 12-ounce can of seltzer (e.g., carbonated water). But finding the bubbly proved to be really challenging in SoCal. A few stores stocked seltzer in quart-size plastic bottles but no cans and for considerably higher price than what we paid back East.

Then came LaCroix’s bold brand turnaround early in the last decade. Packaging makeover and consumer rage against sugary soda won over mainstream Millennials, ultimately leading to a seltzer surge—whether measured by increased number of brands, flavors, or sales. That’s good for me, now a drinker of straight seltzer; no juice added by my hands or artificial flavors by bottlers.

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Stand Off!

Temperature rose to 25 degrees Celsius (77 F) today in San Diego. As we walked about during early afternoon, I suggested going along Louisiana and perhaps sighting some kitties lounging about. My wife smartly observed that any sensible animal would be sleeping during the heat of the day. But as we crossed Mission moving towards Monroe, cries of something stirred our eardrums. “Are those babies?” Annie asked. Nope. They were felines fiercely yowling, practically nose to nose.

I immediately recognized the animals: Ash and Bandit, both of which were profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series. Annie and I were on the opposite side of the street; capturing the Featured Image meant crossing part ways and shooting without disturbing the already disturbed beasts. In the two minutes that we observed, and I photographed, them, the two males maintained a stand off. If their territorial dispute ended in a fight, we didn’t witness it. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 1:50 p.m. PDT.

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The Flower Power House Goes Dark

This is unexpected. The flower power house that I photographed on April 8, 2021 and posted here three weeks ago has gone black—as you can see from the Featured Image taken today, using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 9:38 a.m. PDT.

Obviously, some kind of renovation is underway, which the mural made lively—and that was a refreshing sight in a neighborhood where the clank, clank, clank of construction obliterates the soothing chatter of birds and occasional caw of crows. In these dark days of segregation and tribalism, fueled in part by so-called social justice warriors and their opponents, the repainting is a mood metaphor. Someone cancelled the expressive art. So let’s stretch it all into a symbol of cancel culture

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A Backyard Moment

Ah, how does one properly describe the feeling of shock and awe when looking back at old photos—and realizing just how terrible they are? The haughty is humbled, and I wonder that my earlier days shooting digital, in this instant Canon’s original Rebel, could produce such a collection so unpleasingly composed, and poorly exposed and/or focused. The Featured Image and its companion are among the better backyard moments from the hundreds of older pics reviewed this evening. Their main value to me is sentiment.

During our family’s Maryland days, before unwisely relocating to California in October 2007, our other rabbit occasionally romped around the backyard (Daisy was the other, and, oh, how she was loved). I guess we were way ahead with the gender re-identification and change-the-pronouns social trend. “I identify as a female” would be what Mayflower would say if able to do more than squeak. She was born a he, but we didn’t know that at the time of naming. So him became her. Vitals for his—or is that her or their—portrait: f/5.6, ISO 125, 1/60 sec, 55mm; 11:27 a.m. EST, Nov. 16, 2005.

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The Cats of University Heights: Jasmine

Feline identification can be tricky. I would under any other circumstance state with certainty that this kitty is Guido, who lives a half-block down, across the street, and around the corner with Bruce and Little. I spent better part of an hour comparing his photos to those of this tabby—and the shorthairs sure look alike to me. Except they cannot be. I frequently see the tiger-stripe where she is supposed to be—romping outside the home that she shares with Annie. If I really have confused them, some day a new portrait will replace this one.

Jasmine, who is about four years old, is the sixty-seventh cat from Alabama Street between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. That works out to 16.5 percent of the series‘ 406 profiles. I am baffled about why so many. Numbers creep up for Louisiana and Madison, but they lag far behind—and there are at least three other putty-tats on Jasmine’s block of which I am aware (seen briefly while trying over several weeks to get a good shot of her).

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Be Ready for Face Mask Discrimination

Before the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns, my wife and I were devout Trader Joe’s shoppers. But we lost faith during the months when long lines of people waited to be blessed entrance into the small stores. Our attention turned to humbler grocery cathedrals Food4Less, Grocery Outlet, and Smart & Final, which welcomed our presence and provided as good (and often better) sustenance for considerably lower cost. But with California slowly reopening, we occasionally return to Trader Joe’s—more to reminisce while grabbing a couple bananas.

We also go there for rolls of quarters, as I did this morning. The previous two trips, when getting cash back and casually telling the cashier about my plans, I was told: “We no longer give out quarters”. But when I traipsed over to the service desk, the gracious employees willingly exchanged a Twenty for two rolls. Last time, the gentleman even opened their new cash storage safe—installed sometime during last year’s coin shortage and after the nearby Wells Fargo branch closed, and never reopened, because of the pandemic.

Something changed today.