While rummaging an old external hard drive, I came upon some unprocessed, unpublished photos of our long-lost Kuma. Here, he nestles in the blinds of the sliding glass door of our old apartment days after he joined our household.
The Featured Image comes from Leica X1 on Sept. 17, 2010. Vitals: f/4, ISO 250, 1/30 sec, 24mm; 3:27 p.m. PDT. Portrait is composed as shot.
For reasons only guessed and not remembered, on July 16, 2010, I stopped at one of the University Heights overlooks and pointed Leica X1 at Mission Valley below. The view is much changed 12 years later, as apartment and condominium construction has transformed the horizon.
Dramatically more development is ongoing and the number of projects increasing. In autumn 2019, San Diego City Council approved a plan to add 50,000 more residents to Mission Valley by 2050, bolstered by the building of even more high density housing.
I learned something about cost-creep today that hopefully will benefit you. Don Miguel The Bomb Spicy Red Hot Beef & Bean Burrito is a favorite of mine—available in lots of 12 at my local Costco Business Center. When I first found them, some years ago, a case could be bought for $18.99 or $1.58 per 14-ounce burrito. Later, the price rose to $19.99 before quickly going up to $20.99 and finally $21.99 during the tightest SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns. That’s $1.67, $1.75, and $1.83 per package, respectively.
After nearly exhausting a somewhat stocked supply, I returned with my wife to the warehouse store for more. My mistake: I did not closely inspect the box. Price is higher now: $22.49 for that dozen-filled case. But that 50 cents more is for less. The Bomb now is 12 ounces, a decrease of 14 percent in size for a burrito costing $1.87—15 cents per ounce versus 13 cents previously or 11 cents from what I paid about three years ago; maybe four, I don’t rightly recall.
On the same day the 2022 Olympics opened, February 4, I passed by something appropriate and timely: discarded pair of thirtytwo brand snowboarding boots. Their abandonment, along the North Avenue alley in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, could be a metaphor for what’s being chucked away in Beijing right now: fair competitive spirit, human dignity, and truthfulness. It’s all humiliating.
Let me count the ways: Humiliating that, because of surveillance, athletes were instructed to bring burner phones to China—and, for their own safety, not to publicly criticize the host nation. Humiliating that China presented as propaganda a token Uyghur during the opening ceremony; what genocide? Humiliating that Russian President Vladimir Putin joined Chinese President Xi Jinping, while Western nations, including the United States, chose not to send diplomatic delegations. Humiliating that Chinese officials dragged away a Dutch reporter during a live broadcast. Humiliating that athletes quarantined for positive SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 are mentally and physically impaired by poor food quality and living conditions. Humiliating, and convenient, that some foreign gold medal contenders test Coronavirus positive and can’t compete. Humiliating that most NBC Sports commentators and hosts are broadcasting from the United States rather than China.
Our Caturday story begins in summer 2021, when my wife learned about two felines that frequented a property that wasn’t their home. The all-black, Loki, joined the series in July. We wouldn’t first see the other until October 17, when I used iPhone 13 Pro to shoot the long-delayed Featured Image. Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 32, 1/22 sec, 77mm; 10:40 a.m. PST. I regrettably resisted adding the newcomer sooner because no name, and I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a mix up and this kitty was Loki. Everything changed yesterday, when Annie and I chatted with another neighbor who identified the second cat as Tucker. Whew.
That introduction brings us to the drama. Tucker occasionally appeared during the end of last year but made a startling entrance on Jan. 2, 2022. As we approached the property where he is somewhat an interloper, I spotted the black and white on a fence and pointed him out to Annie. She observed what I missed. “He has feathers in his mouth”, she exclaimed.
Around University Heights and adjacent San Diego neighborhoods, I see more murals like this one: Painted on personal property, not necessarily a business. They add magnificent charm and character—and individualized flare that pops compared to nearby houses.
I feel for the homeowners, who deserve to stake out some semblance of freedom and peace. The mural faces the forever commercial construction site across the alley separating Georgia Street and Park Blvd at Monroe. In June 2015, a house sitting on that corner at Park sold for $525,000. The worksite has existed for so long that I can’t recall dates when. But using Google Maps Street View snapshots over time, I see that demolition and early construction commenced no later than June 2016—for a lumbering, three-and-a-half story mixed-use business and residential building far from finished.
The menacing palm that you met in April 2021 dresses in holiday-appropriate attire, like Uncle Sam garb for Fourth of July. Now he’s ready for Valentine’s Day in 13 days and has been at least since I captured the Featured Image on Jan. 4, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 2:04 p.m. PST.
Composed as shot, the moment comes from Leica Q2. If you live in, or visit, San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, you can see this terrifying tree on North Avenue between Meade and Monroe.
As part of its strategy to reduce so-called carbon emissions, San Diego is building bikeways through various close-in neighborhoods. The one starting at Georgia in University Heights and ending at Fairmont in City Heights is complete. My wife and I drove the length along Meade Avenue on Jan. 29, 2022 to attend the free-admission Lunar New Year celebration sponsored by the Little Saigon Foundation. However, Officer Jeremy Henwood Memorial Park and the surrounding area was so packed, and parking so scare, we did a drive-by only.
A series of traffic circles and speed bumps has greatly reduced vehicular traffic along Meade—not that a marked increase in bikers is apparent. What I do see, and this is something that should trouble city planners and their long-term goals: An alarmingly greater number of motor-powered bicycles. Everywhere. Some are pedaled, too, and most are battery-electric. But not all.
Today’s question: How much longer before this lovely home is demolished and replaced with something ill-suited to the street? On Dec. 2, 2021, I used Leica Q2 to take the Featured Image, after my wife read about the property in University Heights Community Association News. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 100, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 12:18 p.m. PST.
According to public property records, the place sold for $1.595 million during October 2021. UHCA News reports: “This charming Victorian home at 4350 Cleveland is 2,000 square feet with 3 bedrooms and 2 baths and built in 1905, according to the 2015 Uptown Historic Resources Survey Report”.
Is there some metaphor or deliberate message here? Hodad’s is a popular burger joint in Ocean Beach, Calif.—if the persistent waiting lines are any indication (unless seating is inadequate; I wouldn’t know). As you can see from the Featured Image, the restaurant’s vintage Volkswagen minivan is plastered with stickers, such that anyone sensible shouldn’t drive it. Safety first!
The eatery also sells craft beer. Being plastered is a euphemism for intoxication, in which state no responsible person should be behind the wheel of a vehicle. So is it coincidence that a place that brews beer parks its plastered VW nearby? I should have asked someone when in OB on Nov. 17, 2021 carrying Leica Q2. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 12:30 p.m. PST.
Importing the Featured Image into Adobe Lightroom Classic revealed unexpected dirt on lens. Where did those specs come from? But zooming in close revealed something else: A flock of birds set against the clouds—and half-Moon. So I cropped to give you another peek at the amazing detail Leica Q2‘s 28mm f/1.7 Summilux lens captures. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 9:24 a.m. PST, Dec. 26, 2021.
The close-crop won’t win awards for composition, but it’s not meant to. There’s a certain satisfaction to how the intended object, and story about it, becomes something more. Since crane also is a bird, surely there is a clever way to describe the happenstance (not that I can think one; perhaps you can).
My wife and I made Panorama Drive part of our Sunday walk routine—entering the loop at Louisiana. After we exited onto Alabama, at cross-street Madison, Annie pointed out a group of people meandering down the sidewalk ahead. She wondered if we should choose another way. Understanding that everyone would have to squeeze by, I asked to continue on. Before proceeding even 10 paces, I saw the cameras. Lots of them. We had come upon an apparent photo walk.
We passed through the throng, with many people stopping to shoot anything and everything about. University Heights is one of San Diego’s oldest neighborhoods. As such, in part because of different construction eras—following world wars, for example—the housing architecture is distinct and varied. The contrast is striking compared to what locals call North County, where whole areas of homes look one and alike.