Merry Christmas!

Another Christmas Day is nearly over, but every day should be a celebration of giving. Live for the sake others—give and forget. That’s the spirit of the season, which is instead awash with wanton materialism, rather than celebrating Jesus—or the birth of any child, for that matter.

Around San Diego neighborhood University Heights, the atmosphere was spiritless today. During a morning walk, my wife and I passed numerous residents—many of them walking dogs. I greeted everyone with “Good Morning” and “Merry Christmas”. No one, and I mean no one, returned the greeting or acknowledged our presence. I know that we are old now, but so were some of the non-responders.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 24, 20249:35 pm

Plaza Bonita’s Christmas Eve Surprise

Heavy morning fog giving way to drab drizzle defined Christmas Eve. My wife and I broke with our normal neighborhood walking protocol and headed off to one of San Diego’s few enclosed malls: Westfield Plaza Bonita. I wanted someplace for warming walking, and we hadn’t gone retail shopping anywhere really this season.

The shoppers were characteristically different from the locals where we live (University Heights). According to U.S. Census data, National City residents are about 66 percent Hispanic, 19.7 percent Asian, 8 percent White, and 4 percent Black. Around ultra-white UH, Hillcrest, and North Park, the population is older and more likely single or childless couples (straight and not). By contrast, Plaza Bonita bustled with families and teenagers. I swear that the average of people dropped 10 or 15 years. I love it! Hello, National City!

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 22, 20249:45 pm

We Found a Rat Rod

This morning, my wife and I walked through Lafayette Hotel, here in University Heights, to see if it was as bustling busy as last Sunday when we looked in to see the holiday decorations. The place was livelier seven days ago.

I had wanted to stroll in with the DJI Osmo Pocket 3 to capture video of the zillion Christmas trees (some hanging from the ceiling) and raucous crowd (some of whom were hanging from the ceiling—or might as well been). Perhaps Christmas Eve, or better, New Years Eve will bring the right ambiance.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 21, 202410:00 pm

Nikon Zf First Shots

The new camera proves to be a bit of a bear to handle, simply because the ergonomics surprisingly differ from Leica Q2 and Q2 Monchrom. I expected more obvious manipulation using tactile controls, and I still can’t fathom why the NIKKOR 40mm f/2 (SE) lens has no obvious aperture ring.

I wouldn’t return the camera for these reasons, though. I will adapt, adopt new habits, and make the best of the Nikon Zf‘s many benefits (and idiosyncrasies). The retro-looker packs plenty of potential.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 19, 20249:47 pm

Meet Nikon Zf

UPS delivered the Nikon Zf camera kit, with bundled f/4 40mm lens, and separately two others, on December 16, 2024. But, being busy bustling about other responsibilities, I didn’t break out the camera until last night. I want to share some quick first impressions.

The Zf is hefty in the hand, and the small hand grip makes for questionable balance—and I won’t assess that characteristic until spending more time with the thing in the field (I was supposed to also receive, for free, the Zf-GR1 Extension Grip, but it’s backordered). For that reason, I initially mounted the smallish kit lens—Zf 40mm (SE).

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 15, 20249:50 pm

Hotel Del Christmas Tree

Yesterday, I was invited to a luncheon with a group of people celebrating the 2024 Presidential Election. Venue: the historic, stately, and expensive Hotel Del Coronado. I hadn’t been there in years—and never in December. Wow, was the place packed with revelers local and visiting, loners and families, of every fashion.

One neighbor (and good friend) and I were the spendthrifts of the group. She asked if I would want to go halvsies on a meal. That works for me. She suggested a breakfast burrito. Great choice. When the thing was served, I cut off a piece and, after nibbling a bit, decided not to eat any. The tortilla was flaky and tasty and fancily unlike any burrito I ever ate. I thought my wife would love it (she did) and a waiter boxed up the largely uneaten meal. The thing cost $23 before tax and tip, which we split.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 13, 20248:43 pm

I Wouldn’t Live Here

On September 29, I asked: “Would You Want to Live Here?” regarding the new, ah, studio apartments converted from garages along the alley separating Alabama and Florida streets. One of the five units is still available, and it’s the lowest-cost rental here in University Heights: $1,295. Wow, what a bargain.

How much room do you need? The domicile provides a whole 180-square-feet of living space. You don’t mind sleeping on the floor, do you—or eating there—all Japanese style? But the big benefit is proximity to trash and recycle bins. You can practically open the window and drop in trash. The Featured Image shows what to expect. Don’t open the window or door. Oh, that smell!

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 12, 20247:19 pm

I Love Leica But…

Yesterday, someone bought my Leica Q2, which I acquired on Dec. 31, 2019. But my Leica journey started in May 2017 with the original Q, which I initially regretted selling. I preferred the smaller sensor (24 megapixels vs 47.3 for the successor), the look of the images produced, and the ability to switch from single to continuous shooting by flicking a switch set around the shutter button. Besides, the Q was my first Leica love—a feeling that didn’t carry forward as I had expected.

Day before yesterday, a doctor and sculptor bought Q2 Monochrom, which I acquired in December 2020. Turns out I don’t have an eye for black-and-white photography. I got good value from the camera but nowhere near what was hoped. Surely the new owners will do better.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 5, 20246:48 pm

When You Can’t Get an AI Girlfriend

The Barber of Seville is closing up shop after 45 years of operation—more than 30 of them in downtown University Heights. George gave me a final cut this afternoon. His last customer will be a local priest, sometime on Dec. 11, 2024.

While waiting outside for my turn, I observed something, or more appropriately someone, across the street. You can judge for yourself from the Featured Image. Homelessness is a San Diego fixture, and I see street dwellers sprawled on sidewalks every day. But this gent is the first with an inflatable woman.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 4, 20248:40 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Red

What’s that saying about when it rains, it pours? This fine feline is the first shared since Oct. 20, 2024—and an enormous backlog is in the queue. So do expect this place becoming something of a cat blog for the foreseeable future. You’ve been informed; warned, if you prefer.

For today, meet Red, who my wife and I met with his owner on Nov. 27, 2024. Before the lady moved from rental to owned home, she kept Petri, who joined the series in January 2020. Amazingly, she stayed in the neighborhood, which was no easy feat during the SARS-CoV-2/COVID-19 housing bubble, when local real estate prices ballooned at alarming speed.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 23, 202410:06 pm

The Little Pecker

For about a month, I have been trying to get a good shot of a woodpecker going at one of the palms overlooking our apartment building’s parking lot. Yesterday, Cali came running from the bedroom, where she had been blissfully sleeping in sunlight, into my office. She climbed onto the desk to look out the window. To see what? I hadn’t opened up the thing, so sound penetration was minimal.

She stared out at that wily woodpecker, and I marveled at her ears, because I could see the pecking but not hear it. I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra, opened the camera app, set to 10x zoom, and shot the Featured Image through the glass (which could have been cleaner).

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 21, 202410:18 pm

Sore loser or Wishful Thinker?

More than two weeks after the November 5th election, emotions among my neighbors range from anger to disbelief to resistance (a polite way of saying revenge). I see more Harris-Walz signs on lawns than before Americans voted.

Lemme see, the five stages of grief are (correct me if mistaken): Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I would guess the majority of University Heights residents are stuck in the first two stages. Acceptance? You can forget that. Defiance is more likely, as the plethora of signs suggest.