Tag: people

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 18, 20258:13 pm

Classic Cars Meetup

This afternoon, I walked over to unbeloved Hillcrest to mail a package at the United States Post Office. The postal workers were friendly and helpful, but the place was surprisingly not crowded. Plausible explanation: This is a holiday weekend for some people, particularly leading into Monday events.

Jan. 20, 2025 celebrates Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday, and the day will also be the inauguration of Donald Trump as 47th president of the United States. If Microsoft Copilot can be trusted for accuracy, Trump will only be the second President to serve non-consecutive terms (Grover Cleveland is the other).

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 12, 20259:36 pm

Sunday Cyclists

While walking up Adams Avenue in my neighborhood of University Heights, today, I chatted with one of my sisters over the phone. Suddenly I heard, then saw, a massive pack of bicyclists speed past, turning onto Park Blvd. By the amount of time taken to go by, they numbered in the hundreds.

Caught off guard and fumbling, because of the phone call, I lost precious seconds deciding to pull round Nikon Zf and attached NIKKOR 40mm f/2 (SE) lens. The Featured Image and companion were captured, quickly, suddenly, with little preparation. Both are composed as captured. Had I more time and not otherwise been distracted, I would have slowed down the shutter speed for blurred motion shot.

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 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 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 WilcoxNov 4, 20247:56 pm

Trip to Trump Country

Two days ago, my wife and I enjoyed a scenic, 56-km (36-mile) drive from San Diego to Ramona, Calif., where I underwent Stop the Bleed trauma training. In our neighborhood, Democrat-candidate-supporting signs are everywhere. We have seen one for Trump, inside a window where no one could tear it away.

But we saw several banners—one hoisted high above the highway—along the route to Ramona and an actual Trump Store on Main Street. Say what? Someone would either graffiti or torch the place if located in the Hillcrest-North Park-University Heights area. Around where we live, people who can’t stop talking about inclusion and tolerance are quick to exclude and exude intolerance towards Donald Trump, his MAGA-movement, and anything or anyone Republican.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 5, 20247:56 pm

Witchy Women

As I walked along Louisiana Street from El Cajon Blvd, today, a lady dressed in full witch regalia—black with red accents—turned the corner from Meade. We passed and I wondered where she could be going 26 days before Halloween.

An answer approached after I crossed onto the next block: Two more witches walked my way. So, I stopped them and inquired, explaining about the other costume dresser. Some of the local ladies were off to University Heights neighborhood bar Gilly’s, which recently changed ownership and partially its name.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 20, 20247:40 pm

Adios, Aldi

Food inflation is way worse than official, government data states if my local Aldi is a measure. The German-owned grocery was my favorite supermarket—until today’s visit. The many changes—higher costs among them—dismay and disappoint.

Aldi is about a 20-minute drive from our apartment, making it an expedition when other grocers are walking distance away. I hadn’t been to the place since sometime in 2023, although my wife has ventured there more recently. Today’s trip was my suggestion.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 9, 20246:46 pm

Supper Ladies

Looking out my home office window, on any given day, a steady stream of healthy, skinny women and men flow by—some exercise run, others casually walk, and even more tug leashed dogs. They are the stereotypical San Diego young and fit. Photographers love them, because who wouldn’t want to look at beautiful people?

California liberals can’t cry enough about diversity, equity, and inclusion. Okay. Let’s be inclusive—equitable and diverse. That’s what the Featured Image is all about—including big, white women, who might otherwise be excluded from any photographic montage.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 8, 20245:31 pm

He’s Still the Owner

The Featured Image, which I poorly enlarged from a digital reprint, is a sign of its time that should still be true enough today. The Allagash wilderness of Maine’s Aroostook County isn’t as much “God’s country” as year of this portrait (1965). Four wheelers during summer and snowmobiles throughout winter let more folks noisily traverse territory that was barely accessible decades ago. But the Heavenly owner, so to speak, still holds claim.

Presumably my uncle took this photo, of my cousin Dan. Is that a 410-guage shotgun? That’s what I would expect to see a teenage partridge hunter holding. Safety is one consideration. Then there is using birdshot for, well, shooting birds.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 19, 20249:17 pm

Swing to the Beat

For the first time this month, I hauled down to Old Trolley Barn Park for the third Friday night of summer concerts. Performing this evening: San Diego Funk All Stars. I more or less sauntered through, taking a few quickies using Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra.

I carry Leica Q2 less often than ever and seriously consider selling it. I love the camera, but the smartphone is convenient and the photos are increasingly good enough, particularly as artificial intelligence-enhanced software makes magic happen to most any shot.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 16, 20249:46 pm

Brothers and Hunters

We return to the Allagash, Aroostook County, Northern Maine, and the single-cabin camp that my Uncle Glenn rented from one of the timbering companies—for $100 a year, back in the 1970s. He and my father stand near center in the Featured Image, which my cousin presumably captured.

Real outdoorsmen, real hunters. Yeah, there are too many beer guts, but the brothers were nevertheless hearty and strong. My uncle, the bigger and better-natured man, was about nine years older than his jealous, surly sibling. I often wondered how they could ever be blood relations, because dispositions so differed.