Category: Curmudgeon Chronicles

Old Guy Collides With A New World

Old Guy – Version 2.1

I wrote last January, 2025:

Post retirement (old guy) reflection on my work as a photographer, created an itch I’ve been scratching, to curate and show the result of a dozen years. Still early on and skimpy. May take a year or so: http://www.brookemeyer.com

Almost January 2026: Nah! It’ll take a LOT longer! Just imagine, an endless supply of paper and crayons with no Bell Schedule! Can spend hours reading about Lady Day and Dorthea Lange! After 75 years of perpetual motion, time to savor my great good luck.

And I think Kurt Vonnegut had it right: “The moral of the story is, we’re here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don’t realize — or they don’t care — is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.” 

Photographer & Clients at “Picture Days” 2016

Bravo Academy of Dance – Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Old Dogs In Winter

Like “Mac”, I find sleep and comfort irresistible. And good food . I made all of his. No convenient bagged junk. Real Chow: Half can of Salmon with a shot of Olive Oil in AM (and Cosamin DS for bad joints, same as I still take to not need knee surgery) split with our attitude Lab, “Rocky”. PM, Bone In Raw Chicken Wings. Later, as he and Rocky got older, ground up raw Chickens, cooked Rice, Collards and Sweet Taters.

Mac

Saturdays, a “Trotter” on the deck, from Nahunta Pork Center at the Raleigh Farmers Market – which got disappeared in 45 minutes! Never had to have their teeth cleaned.

Disclaimer: I once wrote to a young lady from a Navy Training School who later told me my letters were complex and hard to read – she was right).

We both aged to relish and enjoy quietude. This is almost, a self portrait. We both got grey muzzles. And shared a deep love of our missus, whose side he would not leave in her illness. As she would not leave his. The hard part of love is good bye. Eventually, account balance is zero, with no credit line. So it goes.

Sunday Oasis

A friend told me about this a few weeks ago at the Cary Photographic Artists Holiday Party. Found and purchased on Goodwillbooks. Merry Christmas to me! $8.58, delivered!

My bookshelf AM/FM Receiver/CD/USB Player has an audio out jack – key to my purchase decision. Headphones & extension cable facilitate couch lounging and blocks the howls and barks of the poor dog in the apartment behind me. Acoustic peace and great music! Add Lager & Bourbon – I’m good!

Ray Sings Basie Swings

It Snowed On Christmas – IV

Last week, driving by the spectacular Town Hall and Academy Street Christmas displays, the child in me, marveled! The old man in me, finds peace and comfort in the simplicity and elegance of 15 years ago.

Ambassador Loop Lamp Post| Cary Town Hall Campus | 26 Dec 2010

It Snowed On Christmas – III

Page-Walker Arts & History Center started life as a railroad hotel next to still used train tracks. So I occasionally had to pause teaching Thursday night Photography Classes on the second floor, while Trains rumbled by with their warning horns. Freight and Passenger!

Page-Walker Arts and History Center | Cary Town Hall Campus | 26 Dec 2010

Brooklyn Bungalow

We are, I believe, tied to our upbringing. A 75 year old in a mirror, finds it, inescapable. Along with all the stuff NOBODY could make up. Like being six and parked on a sofa in pajamas with my younger brother as EMT’s took my father out the front door – I can still see the flashing red lights.

Didn’t know then about my Maternal Step Grandfather who:

1. A Widower and Hungarian Immigrant, married my Hungarian Immigrant Divorced Grandmother (Catholic Shame but the hubs left!). My Mom was 3.

2. Rolled a 30’s Dodge Touring car with a trunk full of Bootleg during Prohibition. Cost him a year in a Federal Pen

3. Ran Charlie’s Cafe at Woodhill & Buckeye in Cleveland through Prohibition. Defied Cleveland Police for increased bribes by replacing the “Water Heater” full of Bootleg with a real one, before the raid he knew would come .

4. Flew up from retirement in Florida after my Dad was hospitalized and next day, paid his Step Daughters Mortgage – my Brooklyn Bungalow & home.

5. And explains my Fathers relief when I walked in as an adult as he’d just hung up the phone (Long Distance) having sent Charlie the last mortgage repayment.

That post-WWII house was where my Dad kept a Blue Star in the window all nine years I was Navy. And where I never dared think about inviting my best friend in the Navy, who was Black, to visit. Later, I had to tell my Dad he would die soon (Lifetime Smoker) and that we would look after Mom. And later, I would lie to my Mom when it was no longer safe for her to be alone – tricked her to a safe place. And made sure she was safe and not alone when she died.

It was refuge for a brother during a divorce. He took care of it, had the old foundation properly repaired. Which made it a reason for me and my Sweetheart to do the next generation Mom & Dad thing and helped her daughter buy it. That didn’t last, she chose as poorly as I did with my first marriage.

Strangers live there now (owned by an LLC so I suppose, a rental). Strangers live in the home I sold a year ago. And so it goes.

The Trouble With “Modern”Men

When I met my Sweetheart, I couldn’t even find the light. She was all I could think about. Still is, five years a widower. And we’d both do it again.

Now, a 75 year old Male Curmudgeon, I’m astonished hearing my 20 something Neighbor/Dog Rescuer/Teacher/Soprano/Fellow Chef and Fortuitous Confidant about modern relationships. Discovered there’s even a name for it: Hetero-fatalism! Maybe, a la William Shakespeare, it isn’t a really new idea.

It Snowed On Christmas

Early last evening, I went to the Cary Photographic Artists Holiday Party at the Herb C Young Community Center in Cary.

Got waylaid by a bunch of Labrador Retrievers on the way in. Sent my heart into overload. Never did find out what the meetup was for but – oh my.

Christmas Day through the 26th of 2010, it snowed in Cary, North Carolina. Rare event. Beginning with my two Labs, I made photographs of our “White Christmas”. Spent the next day making photographs in Downtown Cary. Which looked a LOT different tonight, driving down Academy Street.

But this is really about two dogs whose ashes I’ve kept to go to sea with mine: Melanchete’s MacGyver AKC CGC & Melanchete’s Rocky AKC CGC.

Oral History

After reading today the latest news from our nations capital, I shared, with a young woman I have great respect for, the literal meanings of some traditional, military acronyms: SNAFU & FUBAR.

I did not include the favored description of chaos from my last IBM manager: “Goat Rodeo”

Love Story “Just One Look”

Five years a widower, walking out of the Cary Arts Center yesterday night, a tall woman with family on each side looked at me and I looked back. She was age appropriate and elegant and lovely. And I walked to my truck – a little shaken.

17 January 1992, Friday, about 6 PM, I parked in the lot of a neighborhood saloon to avoid going home to a failed and contentious marriage. Separate bedrooms for 4 or 5 months. Two very young sons kept me captive.

And I saw a woman with a car stuck in snow (Northern Ohio). Helped push it out. We spent the next 30 years together. Till death we did part.

Not A Safe Place

Leaving a Harris Teeter today with some necessities (Beer), I saw two ICE Officers walking into the store, guided by a Harris Teeter Manager wearing a Corporate Logo Shirt. I heard him say “she might have gone left”. To their credit, the young ICE Officers were not wearing Helmets, Sunglasses or Masks or had Weapons drawn. I had no idea if they had a court ordered Arrest Warrant. Two Town of Cary Police SUV’s were parked nearby.

Pushing my cart towards my truck (old widowers need to get their steps in), I made eye contact with one young ICE Officer, rolled my 75 year old salty veteran Submariner eyes and shook my head in disapproval. Midway to my truck, in my peripheral vision I saw a young Hispanic woman, also in a Harris Teeter Company shirt looking past me as she walked quickly away, as unobtrusively as possible.

And I thought about my immigrant Grand Parents and Great Grand Parents. And why they came to a foreign land without even knowing the language. And I thought about the poem by Emma Lazarus on the base of this statue.

A decade ago, I made this photograph. A proud American Veteran.

Now, I fear the fate of our Better Angels.

Musée d’Orsay, Paris 2015

An American Original

John Prine Documentary

We sang in the car to a cassette player on I-71, between Delaware and North Ridgeville, Ohio on Visitation Weekends. And later, as a trio to astonished first cousins in Michigan:

“Give my feet to the footloose
Careless, fancy free
Give my knees to the needy
Don’t pull that stuff on me
Hand me down my walking cane
It’s a sin to tell a lie
Send my mouth way down south
And kiss my ass goodbye”

It is delicious fun to sing when you are 8 and 10 years old! Forbidden lyrics!

The Comfort of Late Life – Part Deux

WCPE Thursday Night Opera tonight is “The Tender Land” by Aaron Copland. Long after the nights I drove home from teaching Photography at Page Walker in Cary, listening to Operas I had no idea of the language -just went with the music. So, long time Copland fan: Appalachian Spring, Rodeo – yep.

There is, I believe, a communion of the human spirit in Art that some find in Religion. It may be the same. Pretty sure it is.

It’s In The Oven

Discovered the lowest temp setting on my little apartment gas oven is 170F.

My late sweetheart, long ago, left meals for me, as I was doing what is now called a “Side Hustle” and a note “It’s in the oven”, for when I got home to “our” apartment at 3 AM. It was my home after leaving a failed marriage . She had to be up and out early, on a regular work schedule for her job. We both got it really right in marriage, the second time. Till death we did part, almost 30 years later.

I was lucky then, to have a customer (now called a Client) from my day job who wanted and was willing to pay for out of the box techie stuff. My manual Invoices financially papered over the mess of a failed 21 year marriage. Kept my sons covered with Health & Dental.

So 33 years later, it’s “In The Oven”. What I cooked last night – really good! But I wasn’t hungry then. Am now. And so it goes.

No Regrets

This is: A. Old & B. A Favorite!

I’d handed a camera to a dance teacher at the long gone “Bravo Academy of Dance” in Chapel Hill, cheek by jowl with the “Governors Club”, a gated & exclusive rich people place.

Set up background & lights and made Dance Recital Photographs with a wall of Moms behind me with phone flashes setting off my light triggers. No matter.

The owner let me go full Brooke – Shtick , On Ladder, On Belly – yeah we made Photographs! Not the usual mechanical, repetitive setups of “Volume Photographers”

So, now in my dotage, waiting for a Killer Good dinner to “rest”, I was thinking how lucky I was to get to try. Non, je ne regrette rien. I was, a very lucky duck!

The Comfort of Late Life

Yesterday, I went to the Early Voting Site at the Herb C Young Community Center in Cary, North Carolina. Same place that Cary Photographic Artists hold their monthly meetings. Thought, Wed., gray and wet, won’t be anyone there. Wrong! Forgot it was one of the Wake County Early Voting Sites!

My Ballot was slim, one Elective Choice for an “At Large Cary Council Member”. Still, it took an hour. Which was not a worry. My time is my time. Met and visited with some folks in line. Told some lame jokes. And Voted. With my Real Photo ID! Didn’t see ICE! I did park in the Garage, got 300 steps in each way plus down 60 and up 60 steps to the top deck.

Before Voting, I stopped at “Paris Baguette” for Croissants with Egg, Cheese and Bacon – Heavenly! But as I’ve learned the hard way, often sold out by 11 AM. Scored 2 of the last 3 – then Voted! Next, stop at Harris Teeter for Gouda Cracker Cuts and BOGO Ben & JERRY Pints!

I’ve no debt, a like new 2005 Chevy W/T needing nothing, good chunk of dough in the bank in CD & HYS ( sold house in 2024 for double paid in 2013), full frig and nothing but routine visits to Dentist & Doc I’ve seen since 1999. And Tax free income and household budget that leaves plenty of wiggle room each month. As Miss Piggy advised, the “Secret to managing money is managing to have enough!” And I do!

Good pile of “To Be Read” books, the luxury of time to plan and cook meals and no demands on my time. Time to dog sit and listen to “NightBird”.

All the Legal stuff is done. Following House Sale and as a Widower, made all new: Will, Power of Attorney and Durable Power of Health Care Attorney. Plus an Advanced Medical Directive for whenever one of my vital parts hits the expiration date. Had a frank and candid discussion with my PCP: palliative care only, no surgeries, chemo or radiation . Just a morphine drip (not keen on suffering) and lemme go.

Left to do and soon, is to prepay my Cremation and execute a Disposition of Remains – which means my ashes go 3+ miles off Hatteras (NC Law) with the ashes of two Labrador Retrievers. We all 3 liked the ocean.

Estate is the stuff in my 1BR Apt that will get tossed into a “Habitat” donation or more likely, a” Junk Doctors” truck (last move cost me $500 to throw away the big stuff). Accounts in my Credit Union, already designated, no probate.

Yep, like the 1MC Announcement & Klaxon

“Now Dive, Dive “ Klaxon

To borrow a lyric from Laura Nyro:

Give me my freedom for as long as I be
All I ask of living is to have no chains on me

All I ask of living is to have no chains on me
And all I ask of dying is to go naturally
Only want to go naturally

“Salon des Refusés” – Part Deux

Just like in 1863 Paris, when paintings by Gustave Courbet, Édouard Manet and Camille Pissarro were rejected by the Paris Salon, I again received the same from a Juried Photography Competition, sponsored by a local camera club. So in the tradition of the Salon des Refusés, here are my rejects.

Disclaimer: These prints are on my apartment living room wall and are NFS. It did get me out for the reception to visit and talk story. And flirt!

Circus

Psyche & Eros

iPointe

PSA – Wine Spill On Keyboard

Made wonderful Pasta & Marinara and placed a Chromebook to read while eating. Which I killed with a spilled glass of wine on the keyboard.

Replaced at BestBuy, same price as my 3 year old wine soaked corpse.

Tomorrow, Wake County LioN battery disposal in Apex.

Lesson learned: Don’t use fancy glasses at table with Chromebooks. A flat bottomed tumbler will do!

3 Stooges Are Smarter Than AI!

Typed in the search term “By the bye, how is the Countess?”, a phrase well known to kids of the 1950’s. It was Moe in the 1935 Three Stooges short “Hoi Polloi”! Google search suggested a scene from Downton Abbey – yada, yada, yada. Nah – it was Moe!

Memory Of Madness

I was stunned to discover that my very young, whip smart and well educated neighbor, born a year after, had never heard of this. It was my attempt, as her adopted 75 year old grandfather to bring historical perspective to the lunacy of the recent event in Utah. It is, as always, crazy. The idea that this is something “new” is, well, very old.

Oklahoma City Bombing

Rejected! – “Salon des Refusés”

In 1863 Paris, paintings by Gustave Courbet, Édouard Manet and Camille Pissarro were rejected by the Paris Salon. Today, I received the same from an online Juried Digital photography competition, sponsored by a local camera club. So in the tradition of the Salon des Refusés, here are my rejects.

Dubious – “This Tap Dance Croc Rock thing doesn’t really work for me!”

Seen – “The guy with the long lens on a tripod – he looks legit.”

Tough – “Glamorous, my foot!

Not Ducky

Early today was a trip to the Post Office for some family business, then a self promised visit to the Downtown Cary Farmers Market.

Downtown Cary Park is a wonderful place to visit and walk and get vitamins in your heart from seeing dogs and children and their attendant grown-ups, play. So I was smitten by a 2 or maybe three year old tow head, looking down in excitement by activity in the pond below a wonderful walking bridge.

Curious, I learned over the railing to see a pair of female Mallard ducks bobbing for food. Without thinking, I said aloud, mostly for the excited little boy “those are girl ducks”. His father, who looked like a prosperous and well groomed “30ish” said aloud “how do you know?”

Stunned, I said Mallard ducks are very common around here and the Males (Drakes) have dark blue green heads and neck rings. Silence.

So I looked at Mom and said “There are lots more at the boathouse at Bond Park, you’ll see what I mean”. And it was like I had revealed a “secret”.

And I wondered how far we have removed ourselves from our native environment while addicted to the nonsense of oxymoronically “SmartPhones”. Which sort of explains the one handed left turning young man driving a Honda while holding his phone in the other as I waited to cross Academy Street to the park.

We are, I think, as Neil Postman wrote “Amusing Ourselves To Death”.

“Saturday, I go out to play”.

1947, T-Bone Walker wrote this lyric. My hearing of it is Eva Cassidy.

Today, this old carcass got out to the Cary Downtown Park to test drive some new gear. A monochrome only sensor (take that Bayer Filter!) and some colored filters traditionally used on B&W film. I was today, a novitiate.

Another gray hair did a presentation at Cary Photographic Artists and I hit that thing like a bass to a lure! Turns out, odd duck that I am, been using Pentax gear forever. So I already had the glass.

Weather turned from ugly to wonderful. So test drive today aka “play” with a monochrome only sensor and colored filters (it’s a physics / visible spectrum / traditional B&W film thing). Saturday, in the park. Click each for full size.

Old Man Fun – Part Trois!

After a few weeks of no Phone scammer calls, got a new one today from, you guessed it, a spoofed / unassigned DID number – this time in Georgia. So pick up call, put on speaker and blow quasi-duck call noise maker whose origin was previously described! Some poor boiler room soul answers and they get another blast! Then they hang up! Mission accomplished! Soon as this snuggle bunny / neighbors dog is off a trial diet, she’s getting serious goodies from Moi! Maybe even, another stuffed LampChop toy!

The Upside of Long Experience aka “Old Guy”

In my older apartment complex, it’s usually quiet except for the hellishly loud backpack leaf blowers of the weekly landscape crew and currently,the woeful wailing’s of a dog left alone in the apartment behind me. I have exhausted my frustration for the poor dog in e-Mails to the apartment complex management. It is neither life threatening or physically harmful – just aggravating. I would be willing to dog sit. But that’s not what this is about.

I thought about all the modern stuff I got rid of or never had: Social Media ( Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, X, AI anything), Streaming anything, Apple anything, Amazon anything, Cable anything and Fast Food. Reading the news, I have NO idea why the Cracker Barrel logo matters at all! Was in one once, decades ago – meh.

Point is, all the noise is just that – meaningless noise, as in “It ain’t about nuthin” (a favorite, ungrammatical double negative and borderline malapropism).

My “TBR” (To Be Read”) stack of books is always handy and I’ve plenty of music CDS. WCPE FM is always entertaining and restorative. Legitimate, curated news is available by digital subscription with no ads.

So except for weekly leaf blowers and the occasional mournful dog, I’m noise free!

A Horse, Of Course!

Halfway through a new edit of four (ok, five) photography sessions for an ex co-worker & /friend from my corporate days. Roughly a year before my exit/nearly fired by mainland China Managers, I’d been self teaching photography after a 2007 incident in Paris where a skilled pick pocket “liberated” an already obsolete Sony P&S from my jacket, hung on the back of a bistro chair while I went to the loo. But that’s not what this is about.

May 2009

A trusting co-worker and horse owner bought into my photography enthusiasm! We set up a shoot session at the stable where she boarded her horse. It was my first introduction to:

A. The inexplicable bond between horses & women.

B. Discovering all Stable owners are crazy.

C. I had a LOT to learn about making photographs. A lot!

So with enthusiasm and naivete, we made some photographs. Which I was embarrassed by. So I asked for and got a d0-over. Looking at the photographs I made for her 3, 7 and 11 years later (different horses), I can see the difference made by the experience of a wearing out s bunch of camera bodies and maybe 6oo to 700 K clicks. How to get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice!

And Now For Something Completely Different!

There are two Baseball Movies that I think are worthy of your time – “Bull Durham” and “Major League”. Ok, yeah I was born in Cleveland. But today was Bob Uecker Day in Milwaukee – pretty sure he was in the “Front Row”.

https://www.mlb.com/brewers/uecker

Eureka!

When you realize your OXO Good Grips Garlic Press (❤️, ❤️, ❤️) could work with Shallots, too! (Okay, I swiped the image from the OXO site, lazy photographer & Saturday afternoon Happy Hour – but I did de-vein the Shrimp ).

Shrimps shells are getting happy in slow pan with water before liquor goes into base sauce of olive oil, good cheap white box wine, garlic, shallot and Meyer (what else) Lemon zest. Quick hit with Shrimp, than the rest of yesterdays Brown & White Rice made in homemade Shrimp stock goes in. Besides proper country French Bread, sliced vine ripe tomato in olive oil and just cut Basil from my upstairs neighbor’s ginormous Basil bush (I got a very kind “Thank You” note about the still warm Basil pasta I brought her after my first foray).

Glorious good weather with VERY comfortable Dew Point, Humidity and Temp – all windows & door open. I’m good!

The Upside of Age 75

No, this old carcass can’t do what it used to do. Just like the stuff I couldn’t do as a child, before adolescence, teens and adult ages. So we are, I think, on a journey, whether we wish to or not!

3D Jazz Project at Cary Ballet Conservatory – Cary Arts Center, April 2013

There is, in my widower dotage, a blessed quietude and relief from worry. I shopped today for what I had on my list, knowing the budget was okay.

I am blessedly relieved from the incessant noise of oxymoronically “Social Media”. I have no concern or involvement with Door Dash, FaceBook, Uber, TikTok, Amazon Drone Delivery or the really oxymoronically named “Artificial Intelligence”.

I did grow up with and make a living with and from digital technology and yeah, hook up an inference engine to a knowledge data base -you’re still left with what you already know, ya’ know? Just convenient- like a calculator.

So this blessed relief, to borrow a Thomas Hardy title, of being “Far From The Madding Crowd”, is my luxury. I’m good with that.

The Curmudgeon “Emeril”!

Just turned off my Magic Microwave/Air Fryer/Broiler/Convection Oven at 400F with Skin On, Bone In Chicken Thighs. They got trimmed and tossed with Olive Oil, Old Bay and Dry Vermouth beforehand.

Turned off my 400F oven with a sheet pan of sliced peach tossed with Olive Oil, Kosher Salt, Fresh Ground Pepper and Dry Vermouth.

Rice Cooker on Warm with half White, half Brown Rice in homemade veggie stock.

Which explains why my young neighbor, fellow cook and provider of Canine Therapy teasingly calls me “Emeril”!

Today started at La Farm Bakery for honest French Country Bread, then Capri Flavors for grated Parmesan, then Total Wine for essentials, then the Raleigh Farmers Market for Nahunta Pork (Ribs, Chops, Butt Roast and Ham Hock), then a vendor stand for big ole field ripe tomatoes and fresh shelled Butter Beans – just take me now Lord! And finally, Harris Teeter for Dry Vermouth (recipe) and a Brown Rice California Roll- needed a late lunch.

Yeah, I cook. Ain’t eating that stuff in the middle of the store. Or drive through anything. Curmudgeon!

When Inmates Run The Asylum

This 75 year old guy really wants his 2025 Covid & Flu Shots, like last year!

Nah, Mad King Donald’s – Mad King Robert knows WAY more than all those pesky Doctors & Phd’s. He is, very, very, Special!

Kennedy said in the Tuesday statement that he wants the health department to move away from mRNA vaccines, calling on the department to start “investing in better solutions.” He provided no details on what those technologies might be.

https://fox8.com/politics/ap-politics/ap-rfk-jr-pulls-500-million-in-funding-for-vaccine-development/

Sea Story -And This Is No Sh*T!

It is nearly an obligation to relate the experience of the previous generation to the latest. Which explains my relating the experience of a then, very young Submariner to my young neighbor last afternoon. I told her about “Kiddie Cruises” aka Annapolis Midshipmen ordered to the USN Fleet, in summer.

USS Andrew Jackson SSB(N) 619 – U.S. Navy Photo

I was crew aboard a Lafayette Class Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine. We operated from a tender in Rota, Spain.

Weapons Gang is also Deck Gang so I was top side when a Midshipman (not lying, blonde good looking boy) crossed the brow and announced to the Chief Steward, Senior Chief Petty Officer Willie Jackson (who NOBODY messed with and whose shoulders blotted out the Sun) his bags were on the Pier. Chief Jackson rolled his eyes while our XO, LCDR Russell took his cigar out of his mouth and explained to the Midshipman how much time he would be allowed to retrieve his bags and report to the Wardroom where the errors of his ways would be explained, in plain language.

Submarines are a meritocracy and nobody cares about your rank. And no one aboard was going to sign that Child’s Qual Card.

Twenty Years Now, Where’d It Go?

Been in Grandpa mode lately with a young neighbor about budgets and knowing where your/her money goes. Laying out my August budget yesterday, I got to thinking about the last 12 months – a widower period of transition. I am, to paraphrase Joni Mitchell an “Ageing Child”.

Digging through paper files (remember paper) from this past year, I added up about a total of $8,500 of maintenance for my 2005 Silverado Work Truck. Bought new in May of 2005. Took back to the Mother-ship aka Hendrick Chevrolet in Cary. And I can’t tell the difference from new. Had plenty of time in the Service Dept. waiting room to surf their current deals. Cheapest I could find was triple what I paid in 2005.

Like a Rock!

It’s hauled 3 yard loads of mulch, a yard of crush & run stone, new washer & dryers in and old ones out. Retrieved loads of dried, rough sawed white oak from a mill by the NC State Fairgrounds after a tree service hauled the eight f00t+ long logs there from a big ole tree dropping bark by my house that needed harvesting. Moved sons in and out of UNC Chapel Hill & Greensboro dorms. Moved wood shop tools from house to storage at down sizing. Moved a couple of yards of construction debris from town house during last kitchen renovation for my late sweetheart. Hauled a ton of studio lighting gear for a dozen years. And it moved me to where I am now.

Current role is daily driver – Lowe’s Foods, BJ’s Warehouse, Total Wine and La Farm Bakery. We are both, taking it easy.

A Must Share -Losing Our Minds

“What will happen if this becomes fully realized? An electorate that has lost the capacity for long-form thought will be more tribal, less rational, largely uninterested in facts or even matters of historical record, moved more by vibes than cogent argument and open to fantastical ideas and bizarre conspiracy theories. If that sounds familiar, it may be a sign of how far down this path the West has already traveled.”

Old Man PSA – QR Code Scams

Très convenient for crooks! Easy to implement, with the almost Sheep like acceptance of folks wedded to oxymoronically named “Smartphones”. My hunch is, the wolves are licking their chops at the delicious possibilities afforded by the “convenience”. And emerging AI offers an accelerant to the ease of fleecing the herd: ‘Quishing’ scams dupe millions of Americans as cybercriminals exploit QR codes.

*** Bonus Scam Update Info! The incoming, automated, spoofed unassigned DiD numbers Scam Calls have gone to zero! The last iteration were spoofed numbers from small towns in Idaho and Georgia. No message and a hangup in 20 seconds. So I “replied” to the nobody there IVR with a blast from my Dog Toy Kazoo (liberated from a stuffed toy by my young neighbors “Dumpster Rescue”). When some poor soul then answered “This is …., how many I help you”, they got a couple more Dog Toy Kazoo blasts at max speaker volume. I’ve been banned 😉

Old Man Looks At Modern Problems

Geezer perspective on a, to me, astonishing article in today’s NYT: Retirement saving mistakes. I know about the Target Shopping thing from my neighbor/adopted Grand Daughter/BFF/Rescue Dog Owner. We routinely share our recipes and victories with supermarket markdowns.

  1. Say what! – The average consumer spends $118 a month on food delivery and $78 a month at coffee shops, according to a 2023 survey of 1,000 U.S. adults by Empower, a financial services firm. (A month plus of coffee made at home is less than $12. And get your butt out and go pick it up! Better yet COOK – it ain’t rocket surgery! $118 + $78 buys months worth of Folgers and Chicken and Veggies!)
  2. Most consumers don’t realize that the minimum payment on a credit card barely covers the interest rate charges, which on average currently range from 21.16 percent to 22.73 percent.  (Bank pays me way, way less than that on my CD and HYS – guess who wins, Suckers? It is, financial Rape.)
  3. “Getting out of debt becomes even harder when you keep charging items to your credit card. “The ability to just grab your phone, tap a few times and have something sent to you that day, within a couple hours, makes it a lot easier to overspend and to do so without truly thinking it through.” (Yeah, maybe, just maybe, think it through. Divorce Lawyers live on this, as in “I want it my way and I want it NOW!)

Being owned by your debt is no fun whatsoever. Knocking on 75 turns around the Sun, seen it – explains divorce from first marriage. Wanna see pathetic – old folks with no bucks. Nah, no thanks, I’ll go my own way. So 70 cents for a 12 oz Miller Beer at home vs $5 for the same pour at local restaurant/bistro. Or what ever the ridiculous fees are for “Door Dash, et al. There are, special occasions that justify the cost delta and spending some “go to hell money”. Like tickets to attend the Ballet in Paris ($60 Euros). Or Anniversary dinners. Or graduations. But denial is, not a River in Egypt. If you ain’t got it, don’t spend it. You need a roof and a rack and chow (just ask the folks in Gaza). Leather Memory Seats, Remote Start, Lane Assist, Blue Tooth, Rear Cameras, etc, etc, etc – not so much. Disclaimer: I do have a $30, oxymoronically named “SmartPhone”. Works! I start the Washer & Dryers in my apt. complex laundromat with it. Rollover triple minutes keep accumulating when I buy a 90 day Plan and add a 12 months of coverage for 15 months of service – about $70. Keep it in the truck in case I need to call AAA or electricity internet goes out. Else, I’m reading and writing on my $139, open box, lightweight Chromebook with 14″ screen, full keyboard and 12 hour plus battery life – WiFi with 400 MBPS at $39.99 a month.

Yeah, what is it that you need? Different than what you want – even if you haven’t thought about it. Go your own way.

It’s A Mystery!

The bulk of this “Old Man Screed” was “deactivated” in the comment section of the Raleigh News & Observer today. I get it. Pretty soon, lots more will!

————————————————————-

“Lara Trump as Senator? Bless her heart!

Come Nov 2026, NC will have a Dem AG, Dem Gov. and a Dem Senator – all busy trying to fix the chaos created by he who shall remain unnamed but whose ignorance dwarfs Mt. Rushmore. You know, the guy who is very close pals with pedophiles and subservient billionaires, the one trashing the global economy on the ego trip of a 12 year old.

The bold soldier who was only prevented from being a warrior due to bone spurs which, thank God, don’t interfere with his shoe lifts!

The one who stopped the Ukraine War in 1 day!

The one whose age limit for sex with girls STOPS at age 12!

Or maybe it was Hannibal Lecter and the 1400 percent reduction in prescription costs!

Nobody even knows how the Diet Cokes he drinks, sweetened with Aspartame, compares to Cane Sugar! It is, as the Jesuits explained to me, a mystery!“

Both Sides of This Life

My young neighbor & BFF confirmed the accuracy of an extraordinary article in the New York Times about modern courtship – okay “Dating” : The Trouble With Wanting Men: “Women are so fed up with dating men that the phenomenon even has a name: heterofatalism”

In about two weeks, I’ll finish my 75th turn around the Sun. And I had no idea. Had a well intended but doomed first marriage of 21 years. Me and my soulmate both got it right the second time. For nearly 30 years. Till death did part us.

But this – chronological men acting like boys – makes me embarrassed. Young men, I believe, need the focus and discipline of Recruit Training in Armed Services. Better, actual service. So the ladies don’t have to do two jobs – their day job for a paycheck and the second job, caring for a man-child.

Old Man Fun – Part Deux

On a REALLY hot and miserably humid Carolina July day, hiding out in the A/C, after today’s chore of laundry – drinking & thinking:

  • Phone scammers shifted to spoofed / unassigned DID numbers in Idaho – so pick up call, put on speaker and blow quasi duck call noise maker from a dog toy! Someone answers and they get another blast! Then they hang up! Mission accomplished!
  • Got eBay offer from seller after putting in “Wish List” – good price & free ship for a favorite, couldn’t be made today, Blake Edwards movie. Bought it!
    • "MV5BMjM4MzMzNzM1NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzk5OTUxMQ@@._V1_.jpg
  • Somewhere between trips to laundry across the parking lot, a fly found my apartment. Watched it struggle on window. Captured with plastic cup and a page of local PBS monthly guide – released outside!

Old Man Fun!

My neighbor & bestie and her dog visit often, in late afternoon. Ok, it involves dog treats – it’s Pavlovian. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about a sort of Duck Call noise maker aforesaid dog (pictured below) liberated from a stuffed toy. Which resides by my old school phone handset (Ooma).

“Dumpster” Rescue – thrown away in a garbage bin as a puppy.

It is, delightful, to respond to Scam Calls (i.e. “Pre-Approved Consolidation Loans” , “IRS Tax Relief”) from spoofed numbers, as in Press 2 , and greet the answer “Who am I speaking to?” with multiple duck calls! Same deal with later calling the “866” numbers they leave. Sometimes, muffled cursing, sometimes laughter but mostly, hang-ups. It is, highly entertaining! And the calls have reduced, dramatically! I may have been placed on the Official Sleazeball Scammer “Do Not Call List”!

A Step Ahead of Tariffs

Somewhere around 2014, after downsizing to a Townhouse on the far east edge of Wake County, I attempted to put down roots in the local community – aka teaching photography classes for Town of Clayton Parks & Rec. Center. Got along well with the young lady in charge of programs. Which failed spectacularly when she was promoted and replaced with – I am not making this up – two men. But that’s not what this is about.

I’d discovered YN-560 III speed lights – fully manual, with built in radio receivers for wireless remote control – for $58 each from B&H in NYC! Robust and throw away cheap compared to OEM speed lights by a factor of 8 or 9! Killer good for head shots and a whole bunch of other stuff

So teaching a lighting class at the Clayton Community Center one evening, a newly purchased YN-560 III suffered an infantile failure in the hands of a student. I assured her, it was something that happens with electronics and next day, logged on to order a replacement. And the $58 price was now $85! Confused, I asked the Google to explain and the answer was a new Tariff.

Which explains why I decided yesterday to buy, probably my last camera, from B&H in NYC, ahead of the 25% Tariffs announced, today on goods from Japan. Yeah, another $550 for I have no idea what would’ve been a deal breaker.

For Want of a Nail – Reversed

Itty-bitty succulent in a pot for my patio, given by my neighbor & bestie who went off to family for the holiday. Which set the wheels turning!

Can’t just put it out on the concrete where who knows what will happen! So stop & shop at local Habitat for Humanity. Found perfect, taller than a bunny stand. Plus, a Fern Stand, to mitigate a lie to my Bestie about leaving my Boston Ferns to die in future winter frost. Bought both and broke a foot off the fern stand on the way out. Which meant at stop at local ACE Hardware for Titebond Wood Glue. Plus a bag of potting mix and and 30% off ceramic pot. Where I had to help the young man at the counter calculate the non-bar coded discount.

So staring at the itty-bitty succulent this morning, realized my living room needed a serious reorg. And I did – with planned accommodation to over winter two Boston Ferns. Old Man Sunday.

Thursday Night Opera

Tonight, 3 July 2025, is Don Giaovanni on WCPE. Long ago, after teaching a Photography Class at Page Walker Arts & History Center, I listened to Thursday Night Opera on my drive home. Usually, understand not a word.

Soprano Lora Fabio – Page Walker Arts & History Center, 24 November 2013

Yet, it was a comfort. A connection to humanity. Across generations and centuries. And once, at a Winter Concert at Page Walker, ostensibly making photographs for Cary Citizen, after I thought I had the story, put down my camera and – I didn’t know a human voice could do that. Later, unable to speak – she understood. I was jelly. “Song To The Moon” from Rusalka by Dvorak – oh my.

“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.

Ain’t Misbehavin’

I do not remember how or where I found this CD. Probably pawing through a bargain bin. But if you’re hiding out in A/C from a heat dome and the insanity of world news, with room temperature Bourbon and a Harp Lager, it is Oasis.

And, there is a remastered CD of “April In Paris” on the way from Goodwill Minneapolis. One more time!

The Old Man

Recently, curating the photographs I made of the Cary Players productions for Cary Citizen, I got to thinking about this play’s author, Jean Shepherd. And the “Old Man”.

My father, my “Old Man”, disagreed violently with me, about a lot. Race was a biggie. But his ethics were impeccable.

So when he came home after a day on a hot, concrete shop floor to learn that I’d had my older brother’s Benjamin Air Rifle (previous Christmas present) confiscated by the City of Brooklyn (Ohio) Police Dept., it was not a surprise to be put in the family car after supper, to drive to Brooklyn City Hall & Police Sept..

There was a Police Sergeant at the desk . My father explained while he was there, with me behind him. The Old Man asked one question -“Did he do anything wrong?” No answered the Sergeant, but an old lady called in, concerned.

The Old Man said “Give me the BB Gun.” And it was retrieved. And we went home. And I felt safe. Like Red Ryder.

Old Guy, Musing

My first paycheck in 1965, was for 75 cents per hour, checking clothes and checking toes at a suburban, Municipal swimming pool. Aspired to be a Lifeguard, completed the required Red Cross Course but as I was not yet 16, was awarded a “Junior Lifesaving Badge”, so no Lifeguard Job. My first experience with meeting requirements but still, disqualified.

Later and wiser, I lied about my age and enrolled in a YMCA Scuba Certification Course, when it was still Tarzan requirements. Swim a mile, tread water with just arms for 20 minutes, then just legs for 20 minutes. Watched returning Vietnam Vets who could afford the gear, struggle. Took my open water qual in a Northeast Ohio quarry in February, in an ill fitting, borrowed wet suit (no money) and thought I’d never be warm, again.

Made E-7 money as an E-5 Submariner with Pro Pay and Boat Pay and FSA. And except for a year at the College of Charleston (GI Bill and VA part time job) after nine years of Canoe Club, worked. Until spring of 2010 – Lenovo, who’d purchased the IBM PC Company, my employer, made my further career, null.

From 2010, except for getting a Wake County “Certified Pool Operator” Certificate and managing our HOA’s Swimming Pool, I had an encore career as a Portrait and Dance Photographer. COVID and becoming a widower ended that, in the Fall of 2022,

So from 1968 to 2022, some 54 years, I paid my dues. Now, I’m just going to be at peace.

It Was, The Nick of Time

Perfect weather day with my newly installed Larson Brisa screen door on my apartment entrance. And playing this album (aka CD), I’m vividly reminded how good the music is.

Spent hours in a garage, at the end of a first marriage, listening to this on a cassette deck in a company car, a late 80’s Chevrolet Lumina Euro.

But in “The Nick of Time”, found someone who “opened up my heart again”. Lasted nearly 30 years, till death parted us. And as I recently told our mutual Primary Care Physician, I’m still goofy in love with her. Can’t be helped. We both, got lucky.

My Bob Seger Moment

Polaroid – in front of my first apartment. Back from my second patrol aboard a Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine. Me and my Mom in a newly purchased, well used, 1960 Corvette. Two years later, I had it right.

But that day, heading to the Menriv (Mendel Rivers) Convenience store at the Polaris Missile Facility, Atlantic, I was taking chances. Long two lane, in piney woods, looked and saw I was doing 85 MPH and maybe I should go to third gear and maybe, fourth. Mom had a NASCAR grin! Like a rock!

Recantation

Couple of posts back, I wrote “Taking a hiatus/retreat/sabbatical/down time/hiding out for awhile. Time to write, carefully. It will be a quiet time. Here and at home. Maybe, as Shirley Horn sang, September.”

I lied! True, ‘cept, like Lisa Lamont in “Signing In The Rain”, “I can’t stan it”.

Too much life going on for me to be quiet – as much as I treasure my new found quiet. And maybe, at 74, pushing 75, I’m shedding my Catholic upbringing aka “Our Lady of Perpetual Guilt and Responsibility”.

I am gonna write and edit my past work. Curated a Cary Players performance today, from May of 2011, in Jordan Hall – which pre-dates the opening of the Cary Arts Center and before it’s conversion to the Cary Fire Dept. HQ.Gallery is here: Puss In Boots, May of 2011

Lie II: Like A Rock

Early in 2005, I was abusing the family bus (aka Grand Caravan) for household hauling. Eldest son snagged an RA job at UNC Chapel Hill. So the Old Man (moi) decided we (Moi) could afford a pickup truck. Got an offer I couldn’t refuse from the very new “Internet” Sales Manager at Hendrick Chevrolet. Plus, a discount due to my younger brother’s employment at Chevrolet.

20 years on, since buying the truck, it’s moved mulch, appliances, drywall, lumber and students from UNC Chapel Hill and UNC G. And me.

It’s spent some time recently, at the mother ship Hendrick Chevrolet (aka NASCAR Garage). My last ride.

Do You See?

Like trying to explain to a horse, I’ve been struggling to explain to myself, what I want. So taking a hiatus/retreat/sabbatical/down time/hiding out for awhile.

This blog has two purposes: An audience of one and an outlet for my voice.

Time to write, carefully. It will be a quiet time. Here and at home.

Maybe, as Shirley Horn sang, September.

Blessed

I am greatly looking forward to burrowing into a stack of books and finding my voice about the Art of Photography. Still, there are irresistible distractions!

Like making photographs of beautiful, healthy, well loved children at an extraordinary Elementary School. I had no idea that graduation from Kindergarten was a ceremony until a young neighbor and teacher and fortuitous confidant clued me in. So I went and made photographs. Norman Rockwell would be proud!

Today, anticipating a long, peaceful weekend of good food, monographs and medium bodied bourbon, she brought a stack of Thank You Notes made by six year olds after they saw my work. And reduced this 220 lb, 74 year old curmudgeon to a pile of goo and tears.

Child’s name is Anvi – a Hindu name meaning “reflecting on divine knowledge”, “breath of life,” “soul,” or “spirit.”

Lucy’s Song

As I explained to my young neighbor, it’s all her fault! Bringing her dumpster rescue dog to visit after her work day, to visit and talk story.

And I told her about the N.C. State Vet Student who was fostering this rescue that was her proof of ability to spay. Who I connected through a connection of dog rescuers. And volunteered to a make adoption photographs. And we did!

Raleigh – November 2010

“Every Time We Say Goodbye”

Listening to the 1958 recording by Tony Bennett, sometimes, inhibits sleep. Maybe because of the Cole Porter lyric.

Or maybe, because of some photographs I made at Camp Lejeune. The day of a year long deployment to a far away land, of danger, long ago.

And I told a very young friend about it today. And I showed her these.

“Every time we say goodbye, I die a little”

“Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little”

“Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know
Think so little of me, they allow you to go”

“When you’re near, there’s such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it
There’s no love song finer
But how strange the change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye”

Front Porch Visitor

Worn out after food shopping, exercise and vacuuming, I parked my tired old body next to an open screen on a gorgeous day, after the landscape crew mowers & blowers were done, savoring Bourbon & Beer, while dinner warms.

And watched this Senior Citizen Rabbit cruise by and chow down on low hanging Holly Leaves in front of my apartment. And thought about how many times I read “Runaway Bunny”, long ago.

Saturday

Today, the Postman (saw him) delivered my 2026 NC Vehicle Registration. I affixed the sticker to my, as of next month, 20 year old license plate.

Thursday, following the Tuesday NC State Inspection at the Mother Ship (Hendrick Chevrolet) and a Goat Rodeo Uber pickup, had all 4 tires replaced and a 4 wheel alignment done.

Wherein Brake Linings declared “Yellow” and “May Need Attention At Next Service” on Tuesday, were declared “Red” and need immediate replacement.

So I made an Online Service Appointment to fix up all four, next Wednesday, a day ahead of my Six Month Routine Appointment with my Primary Care Provider. I am, like my Truck, getting old and worn. But I am not, repeat NOT, getting any new parts!

Day 2 of Meteorological Spring

(Disclaimer: These images are not mine, found on the wonderful Cornell Lab Macaulay Library site )

An upside of a ground floor Apartment with a large double window (open yesterday with 76 degree temp), is viewing the entertainment provided by a big, wildlife hosting Viburnum next to my modest patio. Underneath it today, was a Male Eastern Towhee rummaging in the mulch. The Viburnum and it’s companion row of Clarissa Holly are also on the local Grey Squirrel travel route.

Rick Simpson 28 Feb 2025
Riverbend Farm Trail , Cabarrus, North Carolina,

In summer, it shelters the nest of Chipping Sparrows and it’s blossoms attracts Eastern Tiger Swallowtails and Bees. In the Fall, Monarchs!

Chippling Sparrow – https://www.macaulaylibrary.org/

And just like my previous home, I managed to shield it this Winter from the brutality of contract landscapers. Subtlety is a not, typically in their repertoire.

Winter Garden Sunday

A few hours of afternoon Sun & 60’s was an irresistible lure to get outside in cold, gray, gloomy February. The Gardens at Page Walker Arts & History Center, in my home town of Cary, North Carolina were a very convenient venue for the students in the Photography Classes I taught there.

Today, they were a tonic for my Winter ennui. Click image for full size.

2.0

Post retirement (old guy) reflection on my work as a photographer, created an itch I’ve been scratching, to curate and show the result of a dozen years. Still early on and skimpy. May take a year or so: http://www.brookemeyer.com

Photographer & Clients at “Picture Days” 2016

Bravo Academy of Dance – Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Truckin’

In late spring of 2005, before I knew my employment with the IBM PC Company would be transferred to Lenovo, my eldest son, following his freshman year at UNC Chapel Hill, enlisted in the U.S.M.C. Reserve without mentioning that to moi. He got an unforgettable summer at Parris Island, followed by assignment and drill with a Reserve Unit in Greensboro. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about a Chevy Work Truck.

Post Parris Island, he got an RA Job at UNC. So I didn’t have a Dorm bill. And I’d been abusing my wife’s Dodge Grand Caravan as household hauler. Which was an excuse to buy the 2005 Chevy Work Truck I’m still driving. With no intent of stopping. He got my 1997 Mercury Grand Marquis which lasted another 150K.

My 2005 had an M.S.R.P. of about 21k. Took it off the lot for 13.6K. With factory bed liner. A few months ago, back at the mother ship, Hendrick Chevrolet in Cary, service manager remarked “This is in really good shape!” Which it is.

Curiosity caused me to look up the price of a new one, 20 years on. Was astonished. Somehow, I found this “modern” version to be unnecessary:

 Audio system, Chevrolet Infotainment 3 system 7″ diagonal HD color touchscreen, AM/FM stereo, Bluetooth audio streaming for 2 active devices, voice command pass-through to phone, Wireless Apple CarPlay and Wireless Android Auto compatibility.

Nah. I got windows that go up and down with a hand crank. Simple and old.

Like me.

How Hot & Tired Was It?

This “splooted” squirrel on my porch rail personifies my exhaustion & sore old body from getting house ready to sell.

So really good leftovers today, that just needed warming, were replaced by a refrigerator deli dinner. Eaten standing at the kitchen island.

Followed by wine & chocolate. And early to bed. Another Realtor Showing tomorrow. And so it goes.

Cathedral Al Fresco

There is safety and satisfaction bringing in groceries on a jewel like Saturday. There is comfort knowing you will eat. Arriving home, I saw an immature Eastern Tiger Swallowtail flash by. And after putting all where they should be, it was time to take the air.

On deck with Bourbon & Beer, I watched a mature, male Eastern Tiger Swallowtail navigate and inspect newly opened Beech leaves. Mid April in North Carolina, the deck is littered with Oak Catkins, bathed in cool blue shade and set off by brilliant, golden sunlight. Beech, White and Red Oak leaves are fresh and limp, vivid yellow green against a radiant Cerulean Blue sky.

Out front, Iris Blossoms are tightly furled but ready. The Butterfly Bush hosting the female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail above, won’t bloom for awhile yet.

Somewhere around adolescence I went, by myself, on a Saturday afternoon to Catholic Church, to make my confession. To be in a state of grace to receive Communion at Sunday Mass. I guess I was early, as there was no Priest yet in the Confessional. And I was alone, for a good while. And it was a new to me way to be in a state of grace. Like today. I went home then, without confession, as I have ever since.

My last visit to a Catholic Church was as a tourist, to Notre Dame in Paris. Before the fire. Leaving, I emptied my pocket of Euros and gave them to the Little Sisters of The Poor. They stood silently, for humanity.

Sixty plus years after my teenage epiphany, I am at peace with the Great Spirit.

Bourbon, Catkins & Inchworm

Dogwood Blossom, Bond Park, Cary, NC -28 March 2011

I made this photograph returning to my truck in the parking lot. Don’t remember why I was there but I do remember, these blossoms were, in a natural irony, overhanging a trash can. Nature, I believe, has a way of providing balance.

The closest I ever get to a house of worship are Election Day Polling places. Most especially, the one my late sweetheart worked in. Which is how I know Elections are true. It also explains my taking the air on the deck today, of the treehouse I live in. Seeking quietude. For a little while more, before it’s sold.

Thankfully afar from today’s weather, I watched the tops of 80 ft. plus Longleaf Pines orbit in the wind while taking my afternoon libation. And making sure I wasn’t about to drink an Oak Catkin dropping, from the big White Oaks surrounding me.

About to go inside and think through dinner prep, I noticed what I had only seen in childhood cartoons – a bright, green inchworm! The cartoonist’s had it right, legs fore and aft. It made a journey around a good size patio table that was exponentially larger than it. And I wondered how it could expend that much energy and what fueled it, what did it eat? So the web-o-sphere revealed it – protein from Oak Catkins! And I thought how lucky I’ve been to witness it all.

And so it goes.

Old Dog Perspective

Mac

After my refusal to succumb to the popular culture extortion of an Online Ticket Purchase (Swifties will get it), I finally get off my indignation and went to the venue’s physical Box Office. They’re open M-F, 10 AM to 2 PM. Yeah, not real convenient. No weekend hours to avoid downtown parking demand and most folks work hours. But okay for Old Widower Curmudgeons, like Moi.

Stupidly, like a hamster on a wheel, I pulled in to the Public Parking Garage I knew from photographing events in the very same venue. $10 “Event Parking”. No idea what the Event was at Noon. And my fault for not cruising a block or two, for on street availability. Sheepishly, I handed over $10 in cash while the attendant put away the mobile device and found change for my $20.

Two ladies were ahead of me at the Box Office. I was surprised to hear one recite her name, phone and eMail address at the sales clerk’s request, while swiping her credit card. The purchased tickets were entirely digital! I knew I was about to have a new adventure.

When my turn came, I told the clerk the Event, Date and Time I wanted to buy one ticket for. She asked my name and telephone number. I recited those but explained it was a Home Phone – in my case a VoIP line on an Ooma Box with the same number I’ve had for 26 years.

“No”, I was told, “What’s your cellphone number? ” I explained I did have a mobile phone but it was: A. In my truck (remember the parking garage) and B. I didn’t know the number because C. I only use it if I need AAA to come rescue me on the highway or call Duke Power or Spectrum to report outages. Haven’t used it in probably six months. Turn it on once in awhile to make sure it works and keep it charged. About $70 for the year.

She was taken aback and settled for my landline. Realizing she couldn’t issue a Digital Ticket, she Printed one for me, with the advice “Don’t lose it!”. I thought it ironic she didn’t caution the previous customer to not lose their “Phone”.

The good news was, my Ticket was almost $20 less than my aborted Online experience. Plus I had something else to do in Raleigh. And I was very careful driving in a busy city because the folks walking around staring at their phones sure weren’t looking where they were going .

Postscript: “Cars drive way over the speed limit, looking at their phone,”

Sunday Aggravation

Mac

Like “Mac”, I’m an old dog in winter. Recently read an article about how young folk mistook the lack of a period at the end of sentence for a manager’s anger. And I still can’t begin an e-mail without “Dear”. And so it goes.

Today, I started to purchase a ticket for a Ballet Performance. After acquiescing to online, required hoop jumping, with an account creation, I discovered at “Checkout”, an additional 45%+ cost in “Fees”! Nah.

Tomorrow, I’ll try the same purchase at the venue’s Box Office, which states “No Online Fees”. We’ll see. Old Dogs have time to sniff about.

Disclaimer: There’s other old guy stuff to attend to in Raleigh. Yes, I’m old.