This afternoon, while walking along an alley in our neighborhood of University Heights, my wife expressed delight seeing some dog art hanging from a fence door. I initially passed by the display, then thought that her reaction deserved acknowledgement.
So I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra and took four quickies of varying compositions. The Featured Image is the best for presenting singly. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 12, 1/1050 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 2:18 p.m. PDT.
I don’t write enough about the dreadful disdain that my profession deserves. But, occasionally, some story is so ridiculously egregious that I must admonish the story, its writer, and the editors. This afternoon, when turning on Microsoft Surface Laptop Studio, Windows 11 Start menu teased with news that might interest me. I clicked mainly curious why our AI overloads would pick something about the Republican presumptive presidential candidate.
From Newsweek, headline: “Donald Trump Stung in Primary As Huge Number of Republicans Vote Against Him“. Lede: “Donald Trump suffered a blow in a number of primary votes on Tuesday, after thousands of Republicans refused to vote for him”. Well, yeah, that would be news if true. But, before proceeding, let’s dispatch any confusion caused by semantics.
With increasing mayhem—everything from armed robbery to migrant mischief to unpredictable homeless encounters—self-protection gurus council people, particularly among vulnerable populations like older folks, to practice situational awareness. Stated simply: Pay attention to your surroundings.
Most people are clueless, at least around my San Diego neighborhood. Every day, I see dozens and dozens of folks, many of them walking dogs, wearing Apple AirPods—and thus tuning out by tuning in, so to speak. They don’t pay attention—as they should, if for no other reason than the increased amount of traffic precipitated by increased population density. Previously quiet streets suddenly are quite congested.
Words that describe San Diego: Character, personality, variety. The Featured Image and companions are examples. This charming display is more elaborate and expansive than the photos reveal. The property sits at Howard and Hamilton in North Park.
But change is afoot. Recent public policy push to add more residences—by way of so-called Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) and high-rises, often where were single-family homes—transforms the look and feel of many neighborhoods. BLVD North Park and Winslow are examples of the new architectural artifices.
I had planned to close-crop the Featured Image but altered after looking at the context in relation to some past posts (follow the links). The young women sits on a wall alongside the Sprouts market; that sidewalk stretch is a frequent homeless hangout.
To the far right is the entrance to the local library’s book sale room, which is open the third weekend of every month. My recent purchases include the first five volumes of Talk to Me in Korean and ye olde history books.
The answer related to the Featured Image is easy: No one. I am a fact-oriented journalist, who trusts nobody—nor should you in this era of mass misinformation. With perhaps the exception of Matt Taibbi, there isn’t a soul among my profession whose news reporting I would accept as factual—that is without some independent verification of my own.
We live at a time when commentary and editorialization—narratives, if you prefer—supplant real reporting. Everyone is an armchair analyst with an opinion, and not enough emphasis is placed on gathering facts and assembling them into a meaningful story that unfolds some current event or reveals something legitimately in the public interest.
If you’ve seen this sign before on my website somewhere, do tell me. I can’t find it. Because I so meant to share the message nearly four years ago (June 26, 2020). The United States was in turmoil, with SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 restrictions making most everyone stay in and widespread looting, protests, and riots pulling people out onto the streets.
Do you remember the chaos, and rampant cancellation? You know: anyone who dared to defy the social media mob’s cries for equity, justice, and racial identity—all while fostering division and segregation that contradicted the presumed purpose of progressives. Black lives mattered, and including any other group(s) made you a racist.
There is a purity to black-and-white photography that can make the mundane more—or at least, not less. The Featured Image, captured with Leica Q2 Monochrom, is today’s proposed proof. I unlikely would have stopped to shoot the fence in color, which would have distracted from the rather plain object.
But B&W draws attention to the straight lines of the wood, and even to the structure’s apparent purpose: To protect the tree, which could attract dogs and their owners willing to let the mutts defecate or urinate either upon the grass or at the trunk. Park Blvd in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood bustles with pedestrians and leashed animals. The simple fence is purposeful.
Along Park Blvd, barely outside my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, is a church I hadn’t stopped to regard—until yesterday. I simply don’t walk that way often enough to have noticed the stately structure.
Near as I can gather from the official website, Grace Lutheran is a family-oriented, traditional Christian church located in an area where other places of worship cater more to the licentious, cultural mob than to God.
Across San Diego County, more than 145 drop boxes are placed to receive ballots, which California mailed to all registered voters. Today, the state held primary elections, including President of the United States. Fifteen other states commenced primaries on this Super Tuesday.
My wife and I unexpectedly used a drop box, rather than continue our customary practice of voting in person. Annie felt poorly, and I am juggling family matters. We don’t expect Dad to live through the week. But he is still conscious and cognizant, receives visitors (whoa, the county sheriff, among many others), or makes and receive phone calls. But Dad’s strength and vitality ebb away, and his decline increases. My sister was right urging us both to fly to Maine—she from Florida—over the weekend of Feb. 16, 2024.
For some reason, last night, YouTube’s algorithm suggested a not-so-interesting video about a street photographer with whom I had limited knowledge. My watching some portion of the vid generated suggestions for others and finally the gem: Documentary “Finding Vivian Maier“, which I watched in its entirety this evening.
Quick backstory: A large portion of her collection of media—including more than 150,000 negatives, hundreds of undeveloped film rolls, audio recordings, and home movies—were auctioned in 2007; she had failed to keep up payments on a storage unit. Vivian Maier was an unknown, unpublished photographer at the time; she died in April 2009, following a fall, unaware that her street shots had started to draw attention after some were published on Flickr.
The Featured Image is a memory marker. I shall explain. The grass on this property is rarely overgrown like this. But the woman responsible for tending things has lost the privilege of doing so. For reasons of protected privacy, I choose not to show the building.
One of my neighbors is in the process of losing her home. Supposedly she will be duly compensated, but what she wants is to stay in the neighborhood she knows and loves, living out her life in a house her grandmother once owned.