Day: June 28, 2025

“Chatty Cathy”

1960’s popular culture reference – my explanation at the last Cary Photographic Artists Meeting where I socialized with age appropriate (aka grey hairs). Yeah, my string got pulled. In a good way!

The Post Office delivered two CDs today from Goodwill Minneapolis. This was on one of them. And yes, I give a damn about my fellow man. Tres important! The more things change, the more they stay the same. Radio stations in 1967 refused to play due to the use of “Damn”. Imagine! Way before the current President.

Shoo!

Heard my upstairs neighbor empathically say, through blessedly open screens to fresh air after a rain cooled off the unrelenting heat of the week! She is rightfully resentful of Rabbits munching her plantings. They are gastronomically cheeky, as a lady a few apartments down, feeds them.

And having been self embarrassed at previously missing a photo opportunity by having to dive into my camera bag to find a lens, mount it and check the battery and memory card, I’ve left a ready camera near my door. Disclaimer: I tossed a piece of celery leaf from my dinner outside. It was left, ignored – I was had! And the missing piece of ear -not easy being a Rabbit! Still, we both agree on Billy Holiday.

“Faith and Begorrah”

This afternoon, I finished a fresh edit of “Nunsense”, a 2013 Cary Players production of the musical. It is near the end of all the plays I photographed for Cary Citizen. And I plan to give the finished archive to Cary Players, gratis. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about declaring spiritual free agency.

Primarily, I believe, due to cultural family inertia, I was sent to 1st Grade at a Catholic Elementary School. At that age, you believe the grown-ups, especially in 1956. Eventually I got my Catholic religious ticket punched with 1st Communion, complete with a blue suit and a big family party that funded a new bicycle! And later, Confirmation, where you’re supposed to be old enough to choose – as if I had a choice.

In about a month, I’ll be 75. And I vividly remember being hauled from the asphalt playground to meet Sister Mary Edward of the Order of The Sacred Heart. Drug dealers wish their bull dogs looked that mean. I was accused of being a “bully”, having been seen swinging back at a real bully and defending myself, like my TV Cowboy Heroes. So 2nd Grade me was made to hold out my hands, palm up while Sister Mary Edward beat them with a varnished yardstick. It was real wrong and while I didn’t have the courage to declare my spiritual free agency until late in High School, I knew. I’ve been to churches of three different faiths this year for Choral Concerts. They were wonderful.