As I write there is an enormous thunderstorm underway in this part of San Diego; first rumbles and flashes started more than two hours ago. The cracks of thunder are overhead and all around now; […]
Category: Leica
Not My Masi
My walk to the pet store on Sept. 25, 2021 was an unexpected trip down memory lane. On the corner of Adams and Ohio, at the leading edge of San Diego’s Normal Heights neighborhood, someone had locked up their Masi Speciale Fixed. What a great roadster. I used to own the exact same color and configuration.
I bought my Masi in November 2008 and treasured her (my site, my pronoun choice)—the more after thieves tried to steal her (February 2010) out of a locked garage (they got bicycles belonging to my wife and daughter—bastards). The Speciale Fixed is what the name implies: single-gear. However, the bike sports a flip-flop hub that allows freewheel conversion. In fixed-configuration, pedals always move when the wheels are in motion. Freewheel is what most riders are accustomed to: Coasting when not actively pedaling.
Beats Me Why the Price Increased
Around the same day that I ordered iPhone 13 Pro—one for my wife and another for me—my sister called and the audio quality was crystal clear. For months she struggled to find a satisfactory Bluetooth headset, with little luck. She tried a different approach: Look on Apple Store, from which she bought Beats Flex for $49.99. Sis spends lots of time on the phone, computer, and video chats; she does software support for a non-profit. Outgoing audio quality matters. People need to hear her clearly.
I had already planned to buy something. While I carry my smartphones bareback, calling no longer would be device to ear starting with the 13 Pro. I can’t imagine that holding a 5G radio to my head is healthy behavior. My sister and I typically walk and talk during her hour lunch break; that’s too long 5G proximity to my brain. If the Beats Flex worked so well for her, surely they could for me. So on Sept. 22, 2021, I ordered a set from Apple Store and picked them up the next day from the Fashion Valley location.
Rascal
A few months ago, my wife reported seeing a skunk in our apartment complex courtyard in the wee hours when still dark. I’m a night owl and she’s an early bird. A few weeks back, I saw the stinker skulking along where mulch meets cement, foraging for something. He or she, sometimes a pair, returns for nearly nightly excursions—and I worry about an untimely, unfortunate encounter with one of the other residents. There are 18 apartments and anybody going in or out—that includes late-night Uber Eats deliveries—could scare some stinky spray.
Before bed, I make last rounds to ensure the apartment is secure—for example: locked front door; gas burners off; water faucets shut. Around 12:15 a.m. PDT, today, when closing up, I spotted our striped friend, whom Annie and I call Rascal, sniffing about. Quarter-hour later, I pulled out Leica Q2 and shot several photos through the dining room window. At ISO 10000, they’re grainy as all heck and not really recoverable.
Annie Takes Photos of New Surveillance System
Seven days ago, UPS delivered two boxes—each containing iPhone 13 Pro: 1TB Silver for me and 512GB Sierra Blue for my wife. The improved camera, over the XS, is a big benefit for Annie. In […]
The Cats of University Heights: Cutie
This series started on Oct. 17, 2016—as a whim. Not long before, I had surgery that recovered my eyesight and I also sought to improve my photographic skills. The two things combined into a quest to spot neighborhood kitties and to compose their portraits. I figured 30 days would be enough time, because how many cats could there be in dog-loving San Diego?
Still relatively early on, December 24 of that year, my wife and I came upon a woof-woof and meow-meow looking out a bay window. Nickname Watcher, the feline would be the first featured behind glass or screen—and by no means the last. On Sept. 26, 2021, I observed a different furball nestled inside the same window, making her the seventy-sixth seen as such.
The Cats of University Heights: Droopy
We stay on Alabama for the seventy-fourth feline featured from the street between boundaries Adams and Lincoln; also the seventy-fifth looking out door or window. This tired, sunning shorthair earns nickname Droopy.
I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image on Aug. 4, 2021. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 10:15 a.m. PDT.
Parents Protest San Diego School District Vaxx Mandates
Late afternoon, my wife asked: “What is all that honking?” Annie was right. Car horns could be heard in the distance, occasionally and repeatedly tooting. We turned to one another flummoxed over the sudden roar of cheering that reminded of sporting events. What was going on nearby—and where? I left to find out, following the sounds that piqued our mutual curiosities.
Our University Heights apartment is located about .8-kilometer (one-half mile) walking distance from administrative offices for San Diego Unified School District, where a sizable crowd had gathered with picket signs. As I arrived, a woman’s voice bellowed over loudspeakers advocating against vaccine mandates and for parents’ rights to choose for their children—not the government nor SDUSD. What I didn’t understand: The school board scheduled a 5 p.m. PDT meeting to vote on a proposal requiring staff and some students to be vaccinated. How ironic: They cowered in isolation via Zoom, while parents protested in person.
The Hitchcockian Moment
I count more than 70 birds in the Featured Image, captured by Leica Q2 on Sept. 25, 2021. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 3:20 p.m. PDT. I came upon them while walking along Adams Ave. at Boundary Street on my way to Pet Me Please in Normal Heights. What you don’t see: There were even more of them across the way—the majority on a roof ledge and utility pole wires.
The previous afternoon, unseasonably torrential rains and thunderstorms roared through San Diego County. Flood warning alerts pinged my iPhone XS every few minutes. The official precipitation total here in University heights: 1.4 cm (.56 inches) at 5:15 p.m., after about an hour of heavy rainfall. The next morning, crows and pigeons pecked all about from fresh food washed into clumps and (presumably) fallen from trees (e.g., fruit, insects, and more).
I Got the Golden Ticket
My wife and I cannot find an escape destination from SoCal. The SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 pandemic proved to be massive interference—from “stay-at-home” shutdowns to insanely rising house prices as newfound work-from-homers fled the cities for more affordable areas that we also considered. Perhaps we were too compliant Californians and locked down when getting ahead of the escaping herd would have made more sense. But we still search, with hopes of vamoosing this year.
That raises question: Will I be around for San Diego Comic-Con Special Edition, which is scheduled for Thanksgiving Weekend? I ask because—oh my fraking luck—the SDCC overlords blessed me (“praise be“, as they say on Handmaid’s Tale) with opportunity to buy a pass during open registration today. How could I refuse?
Superhero Thanksgiving Weekend
Save the time! Tomorrow at 11 a.m. PDT, registration starts for Comic-Con Special Edition, which takes place Nov. 26-28, 2021 at the San Diego Convention Center. The homage to geek culture will be a smaller event than the typical July gathering, which was canceled this year and last because of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns and restrictions.
The latter still applies. Attendees, vendors, and any one else must “wear an approved face covering regardless of vaccination status”, according to the organizer. “Face coverings should completely cover the nose and mouth, fit snugly against the sides of the face, and not have any gaps”. Well, won’t that make a mess of costumes. In that spirit, I would love to see a group of vampires protesting the mandate—because they can’t suck blood while wearing masks. Or maybe someone should show up wearing Guy Fawkes mask.
Bouncy Ball
I made two meaningless discoveries along Alabama Street between Madison and Mission, today: The hanging kiddie swing is gone; a child’s ball remains, but the bouncy wasn’t there yesterday. Earlier this month, toys disappeared from the front yard of the house where once lived black kitty Petri and his owner; last week a “For Rent” sign hung from the fence. So I strongly suspected that the family had moved on. Confirmed.
The ball lay on the grassy knoll between sidewalk and street before the property where once resided Giotto and where I more recently photographed Sundown. All three animals are profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series.