Category: Storytelling

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The Lost Dog and the Ukrainians

Rarely is the frequency with which I go to one of the local banks. But need pulled me across the bridge over Washington Street into San Diego neighborhood Hillcrest, where I and others looked on gasping at the most terrifying spectacle: A little dog frantically running up Vermont from Robinson and then zigzagging into moving traffic along University Avenue.

Cars braked, pulled to the side, and honked. I was sure the lost pup would get hit, but somehow he (or she) sprinted into the Hub plaza unharmed. I followed along, hoping to corral the animal to safety. The dog ran around the side of Ralph’s Supermarket and disappeared. As I pursued, a woman pulled her car alongside and asked about the animal. Was I following? She was late for an appointment but said she cried seeing the poor thing. I explained my intentions.

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Who Yelled ‘Fire!’

While walking to Pet Me Please in San Diego neighborhood Normal Heights, today, I passed a mural that demanded photographic attention. Unknown to me at the time: The building’s business is All County Fire, which sells protective equipment for preventing or combating unwanted, ah, flaming events.

The Featured Image is a single shot; my plan to take another was interrupted by a gentleman who asked if I had taken a photo of his car, which was parked on the street. He worried about an accident; perhaps he had experience, but I didn’t ask. After understanding the object of my interest, he praised the artist who painted the mural, explaining another adorned the other side of building. I later looked but didn’t find it.

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‘That Would Be a Great Story’

Yesterday, as I arrived for my haircut, the barber walked out of the adjacent grocery store with two lottery tickets in hands. Later, after finishing the masterpiece made with razor and scissors, he boasted about giving me a $1.3 billion cut—referring to the Mega Millions drawing later tonight. I would look dapper in a tux ready to collect the prize, he said.

Well, yeah, if I bought a ticket. But I only had cash enough to pay for the haircut, unless he gave up part of his tip. “That would be a great story”, he answered, telling it and agreeing that I should keep back two bucks to play. I walked next store and bought a ticket.

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The Swimming Pool

Rising and falling voices coming from outside our front window served as ambient noise as I puttered about the apartment this afternoon. Sometime later, I stepped through the front gate on an errand run, when one of the talkers—a younger woman—approached and asked if she could ask a question. The older lady accompanying her used to live in one of the apartments—50 years ago! The former resident recalled there being a swimming pool, or was she mistaken?

Oh, yes, long ago, a pool was the courtyard centerpiece, but the thing had been retired and filled in decades ago. Where people swam, a tree grows, as you can see from the Featured Image—taken today using Leica Q2—and the companion photo from iPhone XS on Aug. 16, 2019.

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July in Christmas

Feel free to call me cruel, but gloating is not my intention so, please, don’t assign such motivation. The Christmas Day forecast for much of Southern California is unseasonably warm. Predicted San Diego weather is 25 Celsius (77 Fahrenheit) and 23 C (73 F) on both the preceding and following days. Break out T-shirt and shorts for summer remembrance.

Meanwhile, much of the rest of the country expects something colder, which already creeps Eastward. As I write, it’s -17 C (2 F) in Amarillo. Texas! Oh, that’s before the wind chill. For Christmas, randomly-selected highs: Atlanta, Ga., 1 C (34 F); Nashville, Tenn., -2 C (28 F); Newark, NJ, -3 C (27 F); Ocala, Fla., 7 C (45 F); Raleigh, NC, 2 C (35 F). For more of a sense of what’s more typical, for the cities, respectively, the following Sunday forecast: 19 C (66 F); 17 C (62 F); 15 C (59 F); 26 C (79 F); 22 C (71 F).

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Barricaded Gunman in University Heights

A few hours ago, while my wife shopped at Aldi, a helicopter started circling above the area where were two drug deaths last week. I could hear commands from a loudspeaker instructing someone to put down the gun and come outside. That couldn’t be good.

After she returned, Annie and I walked over to that part of the neighborhood, where we met massive police presence. Louisiana was blocked at Meade along with the perpendicular alleys parallel to El Cajon Blvd; at Mississippi and Texas.

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The Walker

Two days ago, while walking up Madison into North Park on my way to the pet store in Normal Heights, I came across a mom and her little tyke. I presumed that she let him work his little legs while she pushed his ride. But passing, and saying hello, I saw that the stroller is a two-seater—one facing her and the other forward—with a second, younger child sleeping soundly before her. Ahhh.

Beforehand, I got a single shot—the Featured Image—using Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 3:07 p.m. PST.

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This is Pat

A year or so before China locked down Wuhan because of SARS-CoV-2(severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19, I saw someone rummaging recyclables from bins in an alley. I had a bag of seltzer cans to put out and gave them to the fellow, whom fit my stereotype of a homeless scrounger. But days later, we passed again—and then less than a week later, once more. He was a regular.

When we had amassed more giveaways and he appeared in the alley, I made a delivery and conversation. He wasn’t homeless! He lives here in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. He is perfectly housed and also nearly blind. Meet Pat. I wish more people showed as much self-reliance, even without a debilitating handicap.

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Do Your Laundry!

Two weeks from today, Americans officially cast ballots in the Midterms. Early and mail-in voting already is underway in some states. Given the current chaos in the economy, partisan politicking, progressive policy-making, and societal factionalism—among other seemingly endless bouts of turbulence—you have every reason to be an active voice this election.

Party affiliation is immaterial. Consider alternatives and possibly choosing someone other than your state or local government’s career politician(s). I see public service as just that. Elected office should not be a job for life, or even decades. Put in a few years for the greater good, so to speak, and return to private life. Otherwise the wheels of government build up gunk (e.g., conflicts of interest and corruption) that clogs the gears.

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New Poster Child for the Pro-Choice Lobby

As Halloween approaches, decorations proliferate and some become quite elaborate. This caged kid in a tree had me chuckling, earlier today—for elaborate staging and opportunity for me to be snarky. Disclaimer: My sarcasm is sure to offend somebody. If that’s you, please accept my no apology.

Pro-lifers are giddy as a bear slopping honey from a fallen beehive, following the June 2022 U.S. Supreme Court ruling that overturned Roe v Wade. They aren’t too bothered by stings from swarming Pro-choicers, who are losing their minds over the 6-3 decision. Since they are absolutely crazy—uh, crazed—let’s pretend this shrieking girl is their marketing maven—warning about the horror show progeny that you could produce because you can’t legally have a doctor cut it out.

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The Reader

Five days ago, while walking through San Diego district Hillcrest, I passed a gent reading a newspaper outside the bagel shop at shopping center The Hub. A few meters beyond him, I turned about and backtracked, thinking he could make a good moment. I shot two quickies from the hip, using Leica Q2 Monochrom.

The first is blurry; the second is the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:10 a.m. PDT. The candid capture is minimally recomposed and somewhat straightened. I seriously considered presenting a tight, 100-percent crop, which would make the headline—about a fired cop—clearer. Zooming in for a look is your job, should you want it.

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Wow, 15 Years in San Diego

Fifteen years ago today, the Wilcox family moved to San Diego. Apart from an 18-month hiatus, my wife lived in the Washington, DC area for about a quarter century, which was most of her adult life in October 2007. I can claim about a decade less residence in and around the Beltway but still a little more time than California—but not much longer, if we don’t vamoose sometime soon.

The city seemed sleepily comfortable for our first 10 or so years here. But since 2016-17, dramatic changes started to accelerate, reaching shocking crescendo during the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns—when, if nothing else, cost of housing (buying or renting) exploded upwards.