Category: People

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 5, 20247:56 pm

Witchy Women

As I walked along Louisiana Street from El Cajon Blvd, today, a lady dressed in full witch regalia—black with red accents—turned the corner from Meade. We passed and I wondered where she could be going 26 days before Halloween.

An answer approached after I crossed onto the next block: Two more witches walked my way. So, I stopped them and inquired, explaining about the other costume dresser. Some of the local ladies were off to University Heights neighborhood bar Gilly’s, which recently changed ownership and partially its name.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 20, 20247:40 pm

Adios, Aldi

Food inflation is way worse than official, government data states if my local Aldi is a measure. The German-owned grocery was my favorite supermarket—until today’s visit. The many changes—higher costs among them—dismay and disappoint.

Aldi is about a 20-minute drive from our apartment, making it an expedition when other grocers are walking distance away. I hadn’t been to the place since sometime in 2023, although my wife has ventured there more recently. Today’s trip was my suggestion.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 9, 20246:46 pm

Supper Ladies

Looking out my home office window, on any given day, a steady stream of healthy, skinny women and men flow by—some exercise run, others casually walk, and even more tug leashed dogs. They are the stereotypical San Diego young and fit. Photographers love them, because who wouldn’t want to look at beautiful people?

California liberals can’t cry enough about diversity, equity, and inclusion. Okay. Let’s be inclusive—equitable and diverse. That’s what the Featured Image is all about—including big, white women, who might otherwise be excluded from any photographic montage.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 8, 20245:31 pm

He’s Still the Owner

The Featured Image, which I poorly enlarged from a digital reprint, is a sign of its time that should still be true enough today. The Allagash wilderness of Maine’s Aroostook County isn’t as much “God’s country” as year of this portrait (1965). Four wheelers during summer and snowmobiles throughout winter let more folks noisily traverse territory that was barely accessible decades ago. But the Heavenly owner, so to speak, still holds claim.

Presumably my uncle took this photo, of my cousin Dan. Is that a 410-guage shotgun? That’s what I would expect to see a teenage partridge hunter holding. Safety is one consideration. Then there is using birdshot for, well, shooting birds.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 19, 20249:17 pm

Swing to the Beat

For the first time this month, I hauled down to Old Trolley Barn Park for the third Friday night of summer concerts. Performing this evening: San Diego Funk All Stars. I more or less sauntered through, taking a few quickies using Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra.

I carry Leica Q2 less often than ever and seriously consider selling it. I love the camera, but the smartphone is convenient and the photos are increasingly good enough, particularly as artificial intelligence-enhanced software makes magic happen to most any shot.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 16, 20249:46 pm

Brothers and Hunters

We return to the Allagash, Aroostook County, Northern Maine, and the single-cabin camp that my Uncle Glenn rented from one of the timbering companies—for $100 a year, back in the 1970s. He and my father stand near center in the Featured Image, which my cousin presumably captured.

Real outdoorsmen, real hunters. Yeah, there are too many beer guts, but the brothers were nevertheless hearty and strong. My uncle, the bigger and better-natured man, was about nine years older than his jealous, surly sibling. I often wondered how they could ever be blood relations, because dispositions so differed.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 9, 202410:57 pm

The Farmhouse

I continue to mourn loss of the Wilcox farm—the majority of which my father unexpectedly deeded to the pastors of his church during the last weeks of life. He died on April 16, 2024.

The deeding deed was kept secret from immediate family until after he had passed. I attempted to contact the main pastor—twice. He ignored me. Inaction has shaped, or reshaped, my perspective about the incident, which won’t be publicly shared here.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 1, 20247:48 pm

Street Preaching

The Featured Image, taken by an unknown photographer, puts me on a New York City street in either the summer of 1980 or `81—I don’t recall which. That would make me 21 or 22 years-old, with hair!

Good friend Andy Morris looks on. My recollection of him is his infectious, and friendly, smile. Where is it, Andy? Was I that boring? Looking at how stiff I appear to be, maybe I wasn’t so good a street preacher.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 12, 20249:59 pm

Microsoft, Copilot This!

Yesterday, I dropped by Best Buy for a quick looksee. My local store, in San Diego’s Mission Valley district, is undergoing changes that started with remodeling last year—or, gasp, was it 2022? Oh, how we lose track of time. Regardless, a dramatic change greeted me.

What can best be described as an Apple mini-store occupies some of the space once dominated by Microsoft, Surface devices, and OEM laptops. The newer setup is all about digital lifestyle, with all-Apple devices gathered together in one area. If there was space being made for Windows Copilot+ PCs packing Qualcomm Snapdragon Elite and Plus processors, I couldn’t find it. But nobody could miss all that fruit-logo fare.

Society by Joe WilcoxJun 5, 20249:56 pm

Seven Movies Every Journalist Should See

Periodically, I update my picks for must-see movies about news reporting. More than eight years have passed since the last list, in February 2016—before the tumultuous Presidential election that thrust Donald Trump into the White House and precipitated disastrous changes across American newsrooms.

Editorialization of news, once taboo, is widespread. Many stories are subjective and slanted, pushing progressive—or, to lesser degree, conservative—values over impartial presentation of facts. The changes are evident in headlines or deks but more earnestly descriptive modifiers used for emphasis, where none should be.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 4, 20249:40 pm

What Real Camping Looks Like

Welcome back to the North Maine Woods, circa mid-1970s. I am the skinny, short kid to the far left; my father, in the red hat, is to the far right. Next to me, my cousin Dan looks at something; my guess is an insect.

His sister Debbie, sitting up, came along with two obnoxious friends. I spent several weeks as object of their abusive taunts and teasing. Wicked women, they were.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 1, 202410:40 pm

After the Pond

My father was a controlling, jealous, and quick-tempered man. The distance between Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies separated our personalities. He and I shared little in common, so much that if not for some physical resemblance my only conclusion must be illegitimacy. But Mom was faithful; he was the one who slept around, which precipitated her divorcing him.

Ah, the day she confided in me was joyous. I was relieved that he would be gone and me freed from his anger, curses, and putdowns. My sisters suffered loss at his departure. I thrived in his absence. Even during the lean teen years, when we had no Christmas presents and often were hungry, I wouldn’t want him around. Mom was a single mother with four children; he contributed nothing. She suffered for her brood; he looked after himself and his new family.