A little more than a month after acquiring Leica Q, I shot the Featured Image. Zoom in to see the bee, if he doesn’t already jump out at you. I did consider close-cropping but kind of like leaving this one composed as captured.
Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 10:03 a.m. PDT, July 2, 2017.
Our daughter’s recovery companion is a little Japanese chick, likely purchased during Comic-Con 2010. She gave it to her best friend years ago; he returned it when she was still in critical condition. Yesterday, our girl left the hospital about 40 minutes shy of 30 days. She has moved on to facility for rehabilitation, which will be the subject of a future post.
For now, the Featured Image is the topic. You can disbelieve me, but this one comes from Nexus One—composed as shot and in no way edited. Vitals are incomplete, but the date is there: July 23, 2010, 1:22 p.m. PDT.
I only vaguely remember being at the Galaxy Tab 10.1 launch event—looks like on June 3, 2011, based on the metadata of the two photos. These tech launches do blend together over time, after attending so many. I do recall being excited about the slate, which I called the “first true Honeycomb tablet”, referring to Android 3.1.
I am not yet a brand junkie, but could soon be, following my return to Samsung, switching from iPhone 13 Pro to Galaxy S22 Ultra in December 2022. Two months later, I traded that one in as part of my purchase of the S23 Ultra. My wife owns the S22, and I bought our daughter the S23 a few days ago. Yikes! The police took the 13 Pro, seeking evidence of a crime against her—and they’re not in any rush to give it back. Well, so much for the Fourth Amendment. Surely there are stranger paths from iOS to Android.
I most likely shot the Featured Image when offering the radio for sale 10 years ago. To my surprise, Craigslist no longer lists my full history of posts, which is a shocking discovery. I see three total—two for 2022 and one for 2020. Where are the rest?
Fortunately, my email exchanges are diligently archived, which confirms the date. I used Fujifilm X-E1 to shoot the Grundig Satellit 750 on Dec. 22, 2013. Someone bought the world band receiver on Jan. 5, 2014. I do miss the radio, but it was large for my office space at the time.
Sigma DP1 returns for a palm shot to which I jacked up dehaze in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom to produce the punchy Featured Image. Vitals: f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/100 sec, 28mm (film equivalent); 11:50 a.m. PDT, April 12, 2008. This one is composed as captured.
Looking at the date stamp, my question: Where did 15 years go? And another: Why do I barely recognize San Diego’s cultural and urban landscapes?
From my perspective, the police violated our daughter’s Fourth Amendment protections when seizing the iPhone 13 Pro that she inherited from me as a 2022 Christmas present. The story: Parents of the household where she visited handed over the device when asked. But it wasn’t theirs to give, nor the cops to take. Our only child couldn’t, and so didn’t, authorize the seizure. Justification: A sergeant, and later detective, told me they sought evidence of a crime against our daughter, the victim.
Law enforcement’s fishing expedition deprives the device’s owner as she recuperates from a double stroke caused by oxygen deprivation and prepares to go to an acute rehabilitation facility sometime soon. She wants her iPhone, and the detective doesn’t respond to my calls. We even had tentatively scheduled a meeting whereby we would discuss possible passcodes to unlock the device. That was before our girl made massive strides unthinkable the day of the proposed meetup to which he didn’t show.
The title of this post is the question I kept asking myself while walking along the streets nearby the hospital where our daughter recuperates. Charming. Quaint. Throwback. All are appropriate. Many of the houses are older, with bountiful yards teaming with plants, trees, and wildlife (mostly birds and butterflies). The smells and sounds are so idyllic.
I saw nothing but single-family homes, at a time when across San Diego County so-called Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) pop up in backyards faster than and as abundantly as mushrooms after the rain. Buildings are leveled to make way for multi-resident housing. Renovations turn homes with character into caricatures.
I feel suffocated by the face mask that California requires me to wear in the hospital where our daughter recuperates. The rule applies to healthcare facilities of every ilk. But count the days. Starting April 3, 2023, face coverings will no longer be required. Related: The mandate demanding that healthcare workers to be vaccinated against SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 also ends.
Across San Diego, significantly noticeable number of residents continue to wear masks. Meanwhile, I see more and more of them discarded, each and every day, like the Featured Image. The mask presented for photographing, inside IKEA, on March 1, 2023.
Sometimes the best photo isn’t the best shot but the one you need. The Featured Image won’t flatter my photographic skills—or entice you to do the same. But the serene view, overlooking the stairs going down to Swami’s Beach in Encinitas means to soften today’s grim story.
In the hospital where our daughter recuperates, the woman in the room’s other bed isn’t so fortunate. She has moaned in pain, for several days now, and a mass of relatives has come to see her. The lady looks to be quite large, and because she suffers from failing kidneys, I assumed she must be diabetic. I was mistaken. Grossly.
For relatives, or anyone else interested, here is another update about our daughter, who has spent 22 days in the hospital—twelve on a ventilator. As she progresses—and more rapidly than anyone on staff would have guessed even a week ago—indications of stroke are obvious. While she can speak, her speech sounds nothing like herself; mumbled and stilted. She is jittery but by no means invalid. Cognition is good, but processes and motor functions are sluggish. That’s not a negative report. She recovers well, and briskly, without an intensive rehabilitation regime.
But that could change soon. Last night, around 8 p.m. PDT, the physical medicine and rehabilitation doctor called, and we spoke for about 54 minutes. He sees our daughter as being a very good candidate for entering an acute care program followed up by more out-patient rehab (which is fairly intensive). So that’s the tentative plan, depending on one of the facilities accepting her as a patient and insurance authorizing treatment.
Depending on when I drive home from the hospital where is our daughter, choice is either I-5 or I-805. (Californians aren’t content with 5 or 805 but “the five” or “the eight-oh-five”, and I make a habit of avoiding adding “the”; just to be onery.) The latter highway exits at Adams but immediately becomes Madison. Because of construction at Texas, I turn at Hamilton, cutting over to Meade and using that street to go into our San Diego neighborhood.
For the past few passes along Hamilton, I marveled at a dog mural on the frontside of a multiunit residence that appears to be undergoing renovation. (Some locals refer to these as renovictions. Evict lower-paying tenants; make modifications; raise rents for new residents.) Tonight, setting sun filled the sky rather than rain pummeling down from it. I parked, go out, and walked over for a single shot taken with Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra.
Amazon’s decision to shutter (absolutely no pun intended) photography site DPReview demonstrates why I recommend that creators own their content whenever possible. Speaking from personal experience, I bleed for the hardworking editors, reviewers, and writers (among other staffers) whose body of work may soon be whisked away.
Seven years ago, I discovered that during a publishing system upgrade, CNET expunged my byline from my thousands of stories written for the site. In a separate incident, the analyst firm I had worked for merged with another and all my online musings vanished. What I consider to be the most valuable, posted to the Apple Watch and Microsoft Watch blogs between 2006-09, disappeared from the web in 2010. You wouldn’t know I had written anything professionally online for the 10 years 1999-2009. All was deleted when publishers decided to scrub the sites (or in the case of CNET modernize).