Tired of covering up with Chinese-made, fake surgical masks? My wife and I waited until there was supply of Made-in-the-USA Crosstex ASTM Level 2 face masks before buying two boxes of 50. Something seemed so […]

Tired of covering up with Chinese-made, fake surgical masks? My wife and I waited until there was supply of Made-in-the-USA Crosstex ASTM Level 2 face masks before buying two boxes of 50. Something seemed so […]
Since June 11, 2020, I have held back posting this serene Siamese, presuming it to be Sly—seen on parallel, adjacent street Alabama in late February 2019. But on re-inspection, a subtle but significant difference (finally) […]
On the same day—May 20, 2020—that I captured the official Boulevard sign near where El Cajon begins in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, my Leica Q2 also pointed along the comically named BLVD North Park. In real estate, location is everything, and if you can’t get the one you want, pretend and hope no one cares. The apartment complex emphatically is located in UH. But, hey, don’t tell the residents paying as much as $4,295 monthly for the birds-eye view of the graffiti art on abandoned commercial real estate, pandemic-lockdown zombified unemployed, or the ever-perennial homeless.
But from the tidy Featured Image (warning: 23MB file), with manicured sidewalk, big b, l, v, d, letters, and trendy corner brewery, you wouldn’t know what’s across El Cajon or up the way going towards Texas Street. This is my community, and I don’t really mean to diss it so much as croak some snark for people paying exorbitantly for the wrong neighborhood and when doing so driving up rental prices all across UH.
Today, as my wife and I walked along Florida somewhere near Howard, Annie spotted a black-and-white shorthair strutting down the sidewalk and then jumping into the bushes—where we found it about 30 seconds later. While a little gruff looking in the Featured Image, this fine feline isn’t a stray. He (or she) wore a collar with bell and name tag (which I couldn’t read).
I understand if you roll your eyes at my calling the cat Peek-a-Boo. Okay, moving along, I manually focused Leica Q2 to make the moment. Vitals, aperture accidentally changed: f/6.3, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:15 a.m. PST.
I am a big fan of public transportation, particularly subway and trolley transits. No argument from me: During the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—better known as COVID-19—pandemic, public transportation is a necessary service that gets people without cars to the grocery store, pharmacy, or, if essential workers, to their jobs.
Something bothers me: If San Diegans are safe enough riding in an enclosed bus for, say, 20 to 40 minutes, why does California Governor Gavin “Gruesome” Newsom consider open-air dining to be risker and, therefore, is prohibited? I surely would worry much more about being inside a bus for any length of time, where riders feeling asphyxiated—particularly older folks who are more likely to be on board and are high-risk to catch COVID-19—pull down masks below their noses and even their mouths. Can you say super-spreader event? Because I surely can.
First photo from Leica Q2 Monochrom goes to Bandit, who appeared in my “Cats of University Heights” series on Sept. 4, 2017. The Featured Image was a blind shot that should have been a throwaway. […]
One year and a few days after receiving Leica Q2, I am finally writing a review, with emphasis on benefits—not features, although both are related. Don’t confuse the two as being the same. My favorite analogy: The holder that wraps around your take-out cup of hot coffee is a feature. Protecting your hand from being burned is the benefit. See the difference? That’s where my 12-month take will focus.
Meanwhile, I oddly added another member of the Q family to my stable of (now) two cameras. Leica Q2 Monochrom arrived on Dec. 28, 2020. Some people will wonder why, when the other model shoots color and black and white. The difference for me is RAW, photo sharpness, and exceptional low-light performance. I have plans for the all-in-one that will be obvious over time.
I have amassed a backlog of photographed but unpublished putty-tats—many of them from months ago, like this Tuxedo seen on Oct. 20, 2020 and no other time since. The shorthair earns nickname Tails, for what I hope is obvious reason.
My wife and I encountered Tails along Golden Gate Drive, nearby where we once saw Bushy and Cali on the same day. ChaCho and Tony live in a house nearby.
Next door to Huck and across the street from Fluffy and Pepto, you could meet Angelo—as my wife and I did yesterday. Daniel Tiger lives on the same side of the street—as may Darth Mew, Ginger, Huck, Jedi, Milo, and Princess Leia; I haven’t seen any of them recently. The leashed, 17-year-old black, whom his owner has had since kitten age, drank water from a cup as we approached. A roommate watched Angelo, enjoying the delightfully sunny 18 degrees Celsius (64 F) temperature while laid back in a lawn chair.
I wouldn’t call the feline feisty. He moved slowly but assuredly. To assist aged digestion, part of Angelo’s diet consists of chicken and pumpkin puree reduced to pâté in a blender.
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Sometimes you need a second one to communicate the message. I captured the Featured Image today along University Ave. in San Diego’s Hillcrest Neighborhood. “Massachusetts” is correctly spelled in the billboard for Mike’s Pizzeria.
Digressing, why New England pie? I recall there being a New York pizza place in the location before it joined the many shops and restaurants that have closed thanks to the overly onerous lockdowns imposed by Governor Gavin “Gruesome” Newsom. He acts like some quirky, hallucinogenic-taking medium blessed him as the messiah of COVID-19—the disease caused by SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2). He will kill more people (and businesses) than he will ever save; he attacks the pandemic with the figurative equivalent of atomic bombs. Will someone please hide the launch codes before radioactive fallout kills us all!
Happy New Year! Here’s a worthy resolution that my wife and I saw today, chalked on the Madison Ave. sidewalk near Massachusetts in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. I used Leica Q2 to capture the […]
Our fifth New Years kitty to appear in the series, joining Gem (2020), Storm (2019), Norman (2018), and Chub (2017), is almost certainly the last. My wife and I are plotting to escape California soon as logistically possible. As such, I will rush through the backlog of photographed but unpublished kitties and close down the series, which later may become an ebook—because why not? But that’s a future topic.
For today, let us meet the Calico whom we shall nickname Lovely. My wife and I met her on Dec. 11, 2020, along Maryland near Monroe. That’s a treacherous area because of cars and coyotes—and females will soon leave the nearby canyon searching for prey to feed the pups. Be safe, Lovely!