Sometimes, it’s not what you shoot but why. On Nov. 10, 2024, while walking along an alley in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, my wife and I passed a collection of kids’ toys looking down from a roof.
Initially, I continued on, then stopped, when mentally revisualizing the scene. Sulley the monster appears to be holding up the metal bar. I assume that was the intention of the person putting the Disney character there, but it could be coincidence, too.
A little after Noon, today, Donald Trump became President for the second time—47th and previously 45th. During his acceptance speech he promised to immediately secure the Southern Border, asserted there are two genders—male and female (and I agree)—pledged to reduce inflation and create jobs, and thanked God.
As he stopped by different venues during the day’s events, he signed a rash of executive actions (e.g. orders), which include: ending diversity, equity, and inclusion programs across the Federal government; recognizing biological sex, not gender identity; designating international cartels (think Mexican) as terrorist organizations; and withdrawing the United States from the Paris (Climate) Agreement and World Health Organization, among a slew of others.
Let me preface this post by strongly saying that the Featured Image isn’t an expression about my attitude with respect to the current crisis in the Middle East. Rather, I observe surprising graffiti and use it to illustrate current events.
A tenuous ceasefire is underway between Israel and adversaries in Gaza and Lebanon. Earlier today, Hamas released the first three of 33 hostages in exchange for 90 by the Israelis. The conflict started on Oct. 7, 2003 when terrorists breached Israeli defenses from Gaza, killed more than 1,200 people, mostly civilians, and grabbed 254 hostages. Nearly 100 remain in captivity.
The time is overdue to post something about the scourge of wildfires ravaging Los Angeles County. Dry Santa Ana winds, coming off the desert, were forecast with the unusually sternest of warnings a week ago. Then, as sustained gusts reached about 50 mph, the first reports of a brushfire went out—around 10:30 a.m. PST on Tuesday Jan. 7, 2024. Within minutes, intense flames and oversize flying embers drove forward what would be called the Palisades Fire. Ten acres would be burned by the top of the hour and more than 1,200 by 3:30 p.m.
Thousands of structures, including entire neighborhoods, burned to the ground in communities with names people living outside the state might recognize, such as Malibu and Pacific Palisades. The wildfire even destroyed businesses and homes along California’s scenic, and iconic, Pacific Coast Highway—someplace where residents would never reasonably expect such carnage.
While walking up Adams Avenue in my neighborhood of University Heights, today, I chatted with one of my sisters over the phone. Suddenly I heard, then saw, a massive pack of bicyclists speed past, turning onto Park Blvd. By the amount of time taken to go by, they numbered in the hundreds.
Caught off guard and fumbling, because of the phone call, I lost precious seconds deciding to pull round Nikon Zf and attached NIKKOR 40mm f/2 (SE) lens. The Featured Image and companion were captured, quickly, suddenly, with little preparation. Both are composed as captured. Had I more time and not otherwise been distracted, I would have slowed down the shutter speed for blurred motion shot.
As promised, the parade of pussyfoots begins, with one encountered just a few months ago. You will later meet others that have languished in the queue since at least 2023.
This orange and white carries the distinction of being the one-hundred-fifth feline seen along Alabama Street, somewhere between boundaries Adams and Lincoln, since the series‘ start in October 2016. That’s out of 596 profiles, including this one.
What is the meaning of the Featured Image? Simply stated: 2025 is a gift, and it’s a gift we should share with other people. Opportunity abounds, if we let it. The first, and very vital, step: Embarking from day one with a positive attitude.
We can make this year one of the most remarkable in human history, and honestly—given some of the chaos around the globe—we don’t have much other choice.
Another Christmas Day is nearly over, but every day should be a celebration of giving. Live for the sake others—give and forget. That’s the spirit of the season, which is instead awash with wanton materialism, rather than celebrating Jesus—or the birth of any child, for that matter.
Around San Diego neighborhood University Heights, the atmosphere was spiritless today. During a morning walk, my wife and I passed numerous residents—many of them walking dogs. I greeted everyone with “Good Morning” and “Merry Christmas”. No one, and I mean no one, returned the greeting or acknowledged our presence. I know that we are old now, but so were some of the non-responders.
Heavy morning fog giving way to drab drizzle defined Christmas Eve. My wife and I broke with our normal neighborhood walking protocol and headed off to one of San Diego’s few enclosed malls: Westfield Plaza Bonita. I wanted someplace for warming walking, and we hadn’t gone retail shopping anywhere really this season.
The shoppers were characteristically different from the locals where we live (University Heights). According to U.S. Census data, National City residents are about 66 percent Hispanic, 19.7 percent Asian, 8 percent White, and 4 percent Black. Around ultra-white UH, Hillcrest, and North Park, the population is older and more likely single or childless couples (straight and not). By contrast, Plaza Bonita bustled with families and teenagers. I swear that the average of people dropped 10 or 15 years. I love it! Hello, National City!
The Barber of Seville is closing up shop after 45 years of operation—more than 30 of them in downtown University Heights. George gave me a final cut this afternoon. His last customer will be a local priest, sometime on Dec. 11, 2024.
While waiting outside for my turn, I observed something, or more appropriately someone, across the street. You can judge for yourself from the Featured Image. Homelessness is a San Diego fixture, and I see street dwellers sprawled on sidewalks every day. But this gent is the first with an inflatable woman.
More than two weeks after the November 5th election, emotions among my neighbors range from anger to disbelief to resistance (a polite way of saying revenge). I see more Harris-Walz signs on lawns than before Americans voted.
Lemme see, the five stages of grief are (correct me if mistaken): Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I would guess the majority of University Heights residents are stuck in the first two stages. Acceptance? You can forget that. Defiance is more likely, as the plethora of signs suggest.
As the November 5th Presidential election approached, I focused on preparing for emergencies—such as protests or infrastructure attacks, regardless the winner (or loser). I stocked up medical supplies and took trauma training for massive bleeding incidents. My wife and I majorly topped off food and water supplies, while I purchased some additional items, particularly for dealing with power outages.
Water bothered me most. What if some crazy person poisoned the water supply, or there was unexpected contamination incident—such as agricultural or industrial runoff or more Mexican spillage. Yikes, cyberattack? The solution that made most sense: Water-filtration system, for purifying the liquid from almost any source.