The Empty

I do not drink alcoholic beverages and can count on one hand the few occasions of inebriation as a teenager, when booze experimentation started and stopped. My taste for the stuff is yuck, and I prefer being clear-headed, which was a big advantage during my working reporter days. People who have had a few too many, as they say, are carelessly chatty; loose lips reveal too much to sober ears like mine.

That said, I always felt uneasy being the only non-drinker in the room—like everyone looked at me oddly. Because when everyone else boozes and you don’t, the presumption is that you must be a recovering alcoholic. That’s how, ah, tippled is America’s cultural heritage. Sobriety is abnormal.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 17, 20228:51 pm

The Cats of University Heights: Forest

This tabby quite possibly no longer lives in the neighborhood, but its caretaker does—and that’s reason enough to share this long-overlooked putty, which is the one-hundredth presented behind either window or door.

I used Leica Q to capture the Featured Image on April 28, 2018. Vitals, aperture and shutter speed manually set: f/1.7, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 7:11 p.m. PDT, which was 18 minutes before sunset.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 16, 20229:38 pm

Mary Poppins Would Approve

From Sept. 22, 2020, the outdoor patio of El Zarape beckons for customers during SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns. I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 25, 1/2611 sec, 26mm; 10:30 a.m. PDT.

The Eatery is along Adams Avenue at the edge of San Diego neighborhood Normal Heights. Vantage is 32nd Street.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 15, 202210:18 pm

Cousins and Buddy

Date unknown, but sometime in the 1970s during my early teenage years, my cousin pats a freshly-made snowman while I watch. I would like to thank Dan for emailing the Featured Image. The photographer likely was one of our dads. Camera is anyone’s guess but I will make one: Kowa—likely the seT R2. Leaf shutter! In the interchangeable lenses!

Snow is a constant during Northern Maine winters—as much today as 50 years ago, if not more so. Average annual snowfall at the National Weather Station in Caribou is 278 cm (109 inches). An April 29, 2022 analysis by Emily Jerkins, St. John Valley Times, appearing in the Bangor Daily News, affirms: “Maine is snowier than Alaska thanks to Aroostook County“.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 14, 20229:45 pm

Tragic Triumph

This Spitfire sputters no more. Its flame is extinguished. Late afternoon, I came upon the derelict on the alley side of a garage, in San Diego community University Heights. I had cut through a property after dropping off a bag of redeemable aluminum cans. One of my neighbors scours garbage and recycle bins for them. Anyone would assume, based on scruffy appearance, that he is homeless. Rather, the gent is nearly blind—with only marginal peripheral vision.

We met a few years ago, as he scrounged behind our apartment building. I learned about his ailment, which in my estimation is cruel. He had been an active individual who travelled extensively, and he obviously is quite intelligent and resourceful. Timing turned out to be good for our meeting, because I had an extra Google Hub—freebee from another purchase. I offered him the voice-activated device, which benefit took some effort to explain.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 13, 20229:52 pm

Someone Saved Bruce

A few days ago, I happened upon the owner of Bruce, Guido, and Little as she walked dog Apple—and two of the tabbies trailed along, as they so often do. She had a frightening tale to tell me. The previous week, someone started to relentlessly pound on her apartment door when she, unfortunately, was showering. She got out of the water quick as she could, all while the banging continued nonstop. The front door opened to an anxious neighbor warning something bad happened to Bruce.

He and Guido had been curled up on the property, towards the back nearby the fence. Some guy walking a dog let it get close to the cats. Suddenly, somewhat unsteady being apparently inebriated, he tripped, which lengthened the leash’s reach—allowing the dog to advance on Bruce, grab him by head and shoulder, and thrash him about the way a canine might one of those stupid plush toys.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 12, 20228:42 pm

Membership Matters

Tonight I contemplate the polarized, partisan divide about voting, enlightened by an experience while shopping during late-afternoon. I had gone to Costco for kitty litter, which cost $2.30 more for 42 pounds than a few months ago. At least the manufacturer raised prices without shrinking size—surely such action is inevitable.

As I approached self-checkout, a new procedure greeted. An employee asked each customer to show the back of his or her Costco card—for photo identification. In some instances, the staffer also asked to see a driver’s license. I inquired why, when making my presentation. Answer: To prevent people from using someone else’s membership, which is not free ($60 to $120 annually).

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 11, 20229:47 pm

An AirPods Story

Today, my wife and I drove North to Del Mar for lunch with an old friend and coworker, who had flown out from the East Coast to visit her son and his family—newcomers to San Diego County for work (he’s a banker, which I guess explains the ease of managing the high rents).

The stories people tell that you wouldn’t imagine but seem so sensible after the surprise permeates. Our friend made a startling discovery when unpacking upon arrival: She had mistaken dental floss for her Apple AirPods, which case would be about the same size and shape as some brands (glad to know she makes tooth-care a priority). But couldn’t the confusion also be nothing more than one of those, ah, senior moments?

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 10, 20229:07 pm

Leggo My Eggo

I dismissed the Featured Image, after taking it using Leica Q2 on Sept. 3, 2021. But tonight, while looking for something to share, I reconsidered the street shot.

My wife and I passed the discarded instant waffle, while walking along either Alabama or Mississippi on our way to Smart & Final in San Diego neighborhood North Park. Who left it, and why? Did someone accidentally “leggo my Eggo”, referring to the long-time marketing tagline? Blueberry!

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 9, 20229:52 pm

San Diego Housing is Beyond You

What I want to know: Who rented this University Heights home? When my wife and I passed by on Aug. 3, 2022, a “For Rent” sign welcomed interest—well, until looking at the asking price of, uh-hum, $5,450 monthly. Granted, by square feet, the place is one of the larger houses in our San Diego neighborhood. But who commits to $65,400—more than an annual salary for many locals—to rent?

Buying is no bargain. One of the, ah, affordable homes for sale nearby lists for $1.1 million. Zillow estimates a monthly mortgage payment, along with insurance and taxes, of $5,797; that’s after 20 percent down. Who can afford to buy? Answer: The fine folks at Visual Capitalist rank San Diego as the nation’s third costliest home market, with a median price of $905,000. Necessary salary: $166,828.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 8, 202210:30 pm

Freedom of Speech

I rarely walk down Shirley Ann Place in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights because the atmosphere along the street is so heavy, which contrasts the quaint Spanish-style abodes. Residents sure seem to be politically, and opposingly, opinionated. American flags fly from houses next to those with rainbow banners. Angry progressive rhetoric signs fill windows one place, while conservative banter fills another.

The Featured Image, taken three days after the California Primary, captures some of the rivalry when compared to this shot of the house beyond—where, in second half 2020, hung Old Glory spray-painted with BLM.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 7, 20228:50 pm

Another Alley Artifact

Composition-wise, the Featured Image is not as appealing as the angled shot that I considered sharing instead. But the single pair of bundled socks—shoved into an empty drawer-space—makes the moment for me. I wonder what is their story? Why are they there? I will never know.

The discarded desk waits for a new owner in one of the University Heights East alleys between Adams and Monroe. My apologies but I don’t offhand recall which one. I can attest to passing by the thing—perhaps too tucked away in flowering vines to be easily seen by San Diego rummagers—several times over many days. Maybe missing drawers dissuade scavengers, who miss out. That’s solid wood, not pressboard. If I needed a desk…but do not.