On the last day of 2022, I ordered a giant, world map from Maps International via Amazon. A roll tube containing the item arrived today. Measuring 40 x 80 inches (101.6 x 203.2 cm), the laminated reference fills most of the wall behind me.
Among my 2023 goals: be more aware about global events. That’s an ambitious task, when so much of the U.S. press makes every little minutia into a catastrophic crisis.
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.
You might think that the year hasn’t progressed far enough along to designate the most notorious email. But we have one, delivered yesterday, without pomp nor apology, from SDGE—the so-called utility serving San Diego County. Excerpt: “Effective Jan. 1, 2023, a typical residential customer can expect an increase of $120 on their monthly natural gas bill relative to last January”. Say what?
Gosh, “new pricing became effective on” the first day of the year, according to the service provider. That’s a polite way of warning customers that they are about to get whacked aside the head with mindboggling blow. KPBS explains:
For nearly three years, soon after SARS-CoV-2(severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2) set the world on lockdown against COVID-19, I started hearing—and also saying—”be safe” as closing remark whenever parting from anyone; particularly public places, such as grocery stores, where workers risked exposure to something every day.
A few days ago, while watching a YouTube video from Bjorn Andreas Bull-Hansen, I was surprised, and delighted, when he closed with admonition “be strong”. That’s it! I thought. How right to say! So I lift from him my motto for 2023. Too many people have been trying to stay safe—fearful and insular—for too long. We all should instead be strong—and fearless before any and all uncertainty. Take authority for yourself, family, community, and country. Yes, be strong.
I wouldn’t call 2022 a barrel of fun, would you? But barrel(s) of laughs is appropriate enough, if chuckling at the ironic or insanely non-sensical means anything. There was plenty of that.
For example, Elon Musk made a bid to buy Twitter, then walked away only to return and take ownership. He then started releasing, through journalists, starting with Matt Taibbi, the so-called “Twitter Files”, which shockingly showed a level of collusion between the social media platform and government agencies to influence, if nothing else, U.S. elections. Oh that influence includes the Biden campaign in 2020.
You live in Southern California. I see citrus growing year-round here in San Diego, and plenty of lemons in December. What a relief to see one of my neighbors picking them from her tree on the same day—Dec. 24, 2022—that I passed by the fancy stand in another yard.
As is customary, on Christmas Eve, I walked to Pizza Hut, located at University and Texas in North Park. Since the place is closed on the 25th, we take out Super Supreme (without black olives) the previous day.
Almost every holiday, the residents of this house located along Campus Avenue in San Diego neighborhood University Heights bring out decorations galore. My wife and I passed by on Christmas Day. Walking on without taking a photo would have been absolute negligence. The Featured Image, composed as shot, comes from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:17 a.m. PST.
I am not an overly enthusiastic fan of all things Disney. The Magic Kingdom lost its spell about the time I reached adulthood. That’s not a criticism. We all grow out of something.
One of the nearby assuredly festively-decorated houses isn’t this Christmas season. You can get a sense of what’s typical from the profile of Queenie, who joined my “Cats of University Heights” series in December 2021. Sadly, she vanished last month, and her owner assumes coyote.
Sad as that may seem, the family suffered another emotional assault a month earlier, when the homeowner came home to find that the four towering palms outside her house had been marked for removal (e.g. clearcutting). Reportedly, San Diego Gas and Electric ordered the curbside destruction.
Meet Tula, as she is called by her owner, who tried to name her Tulip. You can see how that worked out. I had seen the kitty a few times during the past few months […]
I had hoped to get the real names of these two fine felines but must move along their sharing, because the Featured Image has nagged since Dec. 16, 2022 to share it.
The entire set comes from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set for all: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/30 sec; 2:23 p.m. PST.
The number of new neighborhood sightings is low, while that of missing kitties is unusually high—along with warnings about wandering coyotes. Sadly, and surely, there must be a connection. Across Texas Street, into parts of North Park, I see more felines than is typical—and further distance from canyons is some protection. That said, Queenie, one of the prettiest putty-tats designated Honorary, is missing and, based on circumstantial evidence, presumed to have been taken by a coyote.
I have a backlog of Honorarians to add to the series, including the beauty photographed today. She (or he) joins sixteen others: Boo, Buddies, Chill, Coal, Envy, Guapo, Lonesome, Jade, Mona, Moophie, Ninja, Promise, Queenie, Sammy, Shakey, and Tom and Jerry. Darth Mew initially belonged to the group, until later turning up in University Heights.
Surely someone wanted to display a red Christmas fox outside the restaurant. Orange is considered similar enough on the color palette, yes? I wouldn’t know, which is why I must ask. But, hey, in the current state of our society, does the answer really matter? When people go by what you tell them, not by what they see with their eyes, just say the words to make it true: the fox is red.
I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image on Dec. 7, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/800 sec, 28mm; 2:53 p.m. PST.