Category: Living

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 12, 20218:57 pm

We Voted Today

My wife and I dropped off our ballots at Garfield Elementary, which is located in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood. Crossing the parking lot, we saw three people, presumably all poll workers, sitting in folding chairs under an awning outside the school entrance. We had forgotten about masks, which the trio suddenly pulled out and put on before walking inside. Then a brave one came out to meet Annie and I, holding in outstretched arms a yellow canvas sack that blocked the woman from the two pariahs—meaning us. We dropped in our mail-in ballots, and she rushed away. Gosh, I sure hope that wasn’t the trash liner.

Californians are being asked whether or not they want to remove the governor. Unfortunately, opponents and proponents have framed the recall election in terms of Gavin Newsom vs front-runner Larry Elder, which distracts from the reason for everyone going to the polls. The special election is absolutely about Newsom vs Newsom, whether or not he should stay in office or be replaced. Nothing more matters. The answer is Yes or No.

Living by Joe WilcoxSep 11, 20218:06 pm

You Will Remember the Day in a New Way

On this solemn Saturday, commemorating the tragic Tuesday 20 years ago, I can’t add much more than past recollections in 2005, 2006, 2015, and 2020. I can strongly, strongly, strongly recommend that you watch National […]

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 10, 20219:38 pm

‘You Are Being Watched’

Funny how the intention for taking a photo isn’t the reason for publishing it—as is the case with the Featured Image, captured yesterday using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 5:26 p.m. PDT. The crusty, “Criminal Beware” sign struck me as really funny—no deterrent at all—and I planned to wisecrack about how the old, neglected thing would frighten off nobody. Then my wife got into the final frame, and everything changed.

She stopped to check her mileage (from walking), while I fumbled with the camera. I really like the synchronicity of her dipped head and hat with the cloaked villain’s posture. Her presence lends perspective, too—how ridiculously high off the ground is the warning. I have passed by that intersection, at Mississippi and Monroe, hundreds of times and hadn’t before noticed the sign. If a posting doesn’t register with residents, will criminals scouting people and places at eye-level see it—or even care? By the way, newer “Neighborhood Watch” signs are lower.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 9, 20218:20 pm

Storm Warning

They say it never rains in Southern California—until a thunderstorm rolls in without warning. This evening, I ventured out for a late-day walk and progressed one-and-a-half blocks from my apartment, when rain drops started falling. I had been looking West to mainly clear skies, where hung a crescent moon. A downpour commenced seconds later, and I took refuge in an apartment building carport. Meanwhile, lightning flashed and thunder roared.

I used Leica Q2 Monochrom to capture the Featured Image, looking out at the clear horizon while water pummeled everything about me. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/1.7, ISO 5000, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 7:33 p.m. PDT. The photo is cropped to remove building overhang but otherwise is presented as rendered RAW.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 8, 20218:30 pm

Desperate Hunter

About a month ago, I heard some commotion a few streets away and a woman yelling loudly to someone else: “It’s a coyote!” The location is far enough away from a canyon to be surprising. Over the weeks that followed, my wife observed occasional Nextdoor posts about additional sightings—mainly between Alabama and Louisiana either along Madison or Mission.

This morning, as Annie and I walked on Louisiana approaching Mission, she spotted a coyote strutting down the sidewalk on the other side of Madison moving towards Adams. We followed. The animal’s left rear leg was clearly injured, and the skinny beast hobbled on the other three. When she first saw the coyote, it was under the magnificent tree that I shared with you in June 2021.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 7, 20218:39 pm

Ripe and Ready

Call my obsession with grapes overkill photography, but I must present one last look at the vine located between Campus and Cleveland along Meade in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. They’re gone now; someone picked them, or so seems the case.

I worried they would ripen and rot, being located between sidewalk and street rather than on someone’s property. Thankfully, they appear not to have been wasted—like so much other fruit languishing from lush trees outside residences. I don’t understand why. Food is precious, and the berries and citrus that I see requires so little human effort to grow.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 5, 202110:59 pm

Yeah, Let’s Lower Old Glory to Honor Them

Since the disastrous defeat in Afghanistan—self-imposed, but denied, by the current Administration in Washington, D.C.—I have observed a number of American flags flying half-mast in my neighborhood of University Heights. The question: Why aren’t they all?

San Diego is still very much a military town, and Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton is located in the Northern section of the county. Nine Marines and a Sailor stationed there were killed in the Kabul Airport bombing about 10 days ago. The White House ordered half-staff flags for the fallen heroes—yeah, let’s lower Old Glory to honor them. So why are only a few of my neighbors doing so—again, remembering the area’s military heritage, the Navy, especially.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 3, 202111:50 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Bold

Since this series‘ start in October 2016, I have seen few felines in the alley separating Cleveland and Maryland. Prowler, Spirit, and Tux are the only ones that I recall. On Aug. 14, 2021, my wife and I spotted another perched on a balcony railing—hence nickname Bold.

The Featured Image and companion come from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/180 sec, 28mm; 9:28 a.m. PDT. The other—the context capture—is same but 1/200 sec.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 30, 20219:03 pm

Mexican Coke

While walking along Adams Ave., just past Park Blvd, moving towards the overlook, in University Heights, I passed by an empty glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Oh, hell, why not take a photo? So I turned […]

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 29, 20219:22 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Mocha

On the Alabama side of the alley shared with Mississippi, Goose surprised by pussyfooting along a roof and fence before entering eves of a carport. The sighting was chance, as my wife and I walked that way seeking shade. But he wasn’t alone. Goose pursued a stunning shorthair seeking distance in what appeared to be an odd territorial skirmish—strange since he lives elsewhere on the block.

I hadn’t encountered the newcomer before that day, Aug. 4, 2021, or since. Because of the side of alley seen, he (or she) becomes the seventy-first Alabama Street cat—and I wouldn’t be shocked to discover that the beastie belongs somewhere else. For rich fur color, the Siamese earns nickname Mocha.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 28, 202112:35 pm

Sybil

She has many personalities—a little like her namesake, except they’re all sweetness. Recently, I met her owner, who is a long-time resident of San Diego’s University Heights community. I see Sybil on occasion, and today […]

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 27, 20218:41 pm

The Music Box

This must rank as the strangest thing seen in any University Heights yard—and I wonder what is the backstory. Is a harp inside the crate? Was an instrument delivered or waits pick up? Could the rustic box be placed as a lawn ornament, recognizing that no rain is expected to fall in San Diego for months? Surely even empty the wooden container is valuable—for collectible vintage, shipping usability, or both.

My wife and I passed by the crate, earlier today, while walking along Mission near Florida. Later, I left her at our apartment and returned to shoot the Featured Image and companion—both using Leica Q2. Vitals for the first, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 9:36 a.m. PDT.