Last night, while walking to Sprouts market for organic whole milk (yum), I came upon the strangest sight that took some seconds to comprehend. A chalked-like (paint, more likely) outline stretched out from the Stop sign at Florida and Meade into the street.
The graffiti mimics a crime scene, where the cops mark out where the body lays. Here, someone chose the long shadow cast by the traffic sign. I have to wonder if there is intent, meaning, and, ah, metaphor here.
San Diego’s three-season summer weather creates all kinds of outdoor activities that would be uncommon elsewhere. Consider public schools: Many are indoor/outdoor, meaning classrooms are enclosed but kids go out to move among them. Costco eateries are on the outside of the warehouses rather than within. The examples abound.
As such, I shouldn’t be so amused, but am, about the older gent watching sports programs out of doors. On Aug. 9, I passed him riveted to a baseball game—all by his lonesome. Tonight, it’s tennis—and he has a friend. “Say, could you pass a can of Modelo Especial?” (Because Bud Light is boycotted, the Mexican beer is now top-seller.)
Earlier in the month, I was surely surprised to see Christmas decor and paraphernalia for sale at my local Costco. The warehouse bustled with shoppers—so many that no photo opportunity presented. But the place was quite desolate when I returned tonight.
We aren’t even to Labor Day yet, and gingerbread houses, Grinches, lighted fake trees, nutcrackers, and wrapping paper and ribbon adorn aisles near the front of the store? What about Halloween? Back to school? Sure something’s there, but wouldn’t there be more timely goods if not for Santa’s shop.
I originally had discarded the Featured Image, but pulled it from obscurity unexpectedly. My router lost Internet connection, causing me to be behind posting. Of all reasons: Loose cable connected to the ISP’s gateway. How did that happen?
The night shot, composed as captured, comes from Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra. I amped dehaze to embolden the darkening sky but otherwise the photo is as shot by the smartphone. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 800, 1/25 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 8:05 p.m. PDT, Aug. 17, 2023.
In my Aroostook County hometown, students grades 9-12 returned to school last week (August 16). The summer start is so teenagers can go on break to help with the potato harvest: 10 school days, or effectively two full weeks, starting at the end of classes on September 22. During my growing up years, all the schoolkids had recess to help bring in the crop.
Confession: I hated picking potatoes, which perhaps explains the traditional basket kept as souvenir. A picker would fill one with spuds pulled from unearthed vines and then lug them to a barrel and dump in the load.
A decade ago today, Google released Moto X—a classic smartphone by every measure that matters. Two years earlier, the search and information giant initiated a $12.5 billion acquisition of Motorola Mobility, which would manufacture the Android. Months following the initial launch, I bought the Developer Edition and loved it.
Moto X promised so much: American assembled in a Texas factory; made-to-order, with custom color and other personalization options; simple, straightforward online ordering, tight integration with Google services; voice activation and commands. Nothing like the device, the purchasing experience, or truly hands-free operation existed in 2013.
Walking about my neighborhood of University Heights last night, I passed few people on the streets. Some small crowds gathered at several restaurants along El Cajon Blvd, but few folks appeared elsewhere. The Featured Image, taken at 8:28 p.m. PDT, provides timeframe.
Desolate best describes the scene, which would have made great setting for shooting an apocalyptic movie. Zombie. Viral Armageddon. Alien invasion. You suggest one. Where was everybody? This is summer-year-round San Diego. The cool evening—21 Celsius (71 Fahrenheit)—appealed to me. Was everyone else home streaming content and ordering GrubHub? Is that the sorry state of society?
Before SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 provided California with the excuse to issue mail-in ballots, voting was straightforward: The County assigned a polling place, where you would go to vote. Volunteers had a list of registered citizens from which your name would be checked off and then you would do your civic duty. Simple. Straightforward.
In 2020, I chose to vote in person—and I brought along my mail-in ballot, which would have been accepted had I not requested to vote onsite. After confirming my identity, the election volunteer provided ballot and place to vote. Simple. Straightforward. But the experience my wife and I had voting today was nothing like this or during elections 2021 and 2022. By every measure, looks to me like the polling place process is engineered to deter in-person voting.
The appropriate action would be to ask this gentleman why he watches television outside. But I instead chose to shoot stealthily from across the street because mystery makes the moment. The answer could ruin the curiosity.
Perhaps his partner or spouse doesn’t like baseball. Maybe he is lonely and hopes the outdoor game will draw some company. Perhaps ambiance is the reason: He wants a taste of remembered experience of going to the stadium and watching the game. I will never know and don’t want to.
Today, San Diego Planning Commission unanimously approved Housing Action Package 2.0, which further eases development and redevelopment of properties to increase population density (real intention versus stated objective of creating more affordable housing).
But, the most controversial portion, which had garnered protests for and against, stalled: California State Bill No. 10, which became law last year. Localities choose whether to adopt the provision, which would essentially enable eradicating portions of single-family neighborhoods for the construction of up to 10-unit residences on as little as a single lot. Location must be in a “transit-rich area”, which is a bit misleading. According to the bill, that “means a parcel within one-half mile of a major transit stop” (e.g., city bus).
Summer never really ends in San Diego but ebbs and flows throughout the year. Yet the last Friday night live music event in Old Trolley Barn Park feels like end of the season, even as the dog days of August are yet to come.
I walked over this evening, beckoned several blocks away by the boisterous big band sound of Sue Palmer & Her Motel Swing Orchestra. She drew quite the crowd, and sizable group—mostly older folks—danced before the stage. If mosh pits were for kids and grandmas, well I observed one tonight.
One of my direct neighbors—meaning living in the same apartment building—had her SUV stolen four nights ago, while visiting a friend in Mission Valley. We live in University Heights, which overlooks that San Diego community. Also taken: Cell phone, purse, and wallet. To say the least, this is a devastating event.
Rather than rant, or be angry, she nervously laughs about what happened. I understand. There’s an absurd, “this can’t be real” quality that is tragically laughable. She takes charge of the situation and doesn’t whine “Why Me?” or seek sympathy as a victim. She is determined and matter of fact in her resolve to recover life quickly.