Red Sandals

Red Sandals

I was photographing a mailbox near my apartment complex when a woman ambled up the driveway to see what I was doing. I told her that I was photographing the neighbourhood for a project, then she pointed out that perhaps I should take a photo of the mole path that wended through her front yard. I humoured her by taking a shot of the brown trails, then turned my camera toward her feet.

The neighbourhood I live in is a very private area that sets just east of the US-127 / I-496 interchange... it's not accessible other than the south so doesn't connect with the other nearby "Flower Pot" (the streets are all named for flowers) neighbourhood, much to the dismay of many who have tried to find a short cut to Michigan State University (I'm sure that even I did years ago!).

Because my tendencies are to walk toward the University (in the other direction), this was the first time I'd done much of an exploration of the neighbourhood. So, it was nice to meet Joyce and her husband, Joe, who eventually walked up from what I assumed was a journey of his own.

We chatted a bit about the neighbourhood and the attempts of a local developer to build a huge student rental unit (directly in view and earshot of my apartment!!) in a lot previously occupied by a now partially-razed Ramada Inn. We also came back around to talking about their mole problem and Joyce said she'd tried just about everything to get rid of them. I told Joe not to let her watch "Caddyshack", and he got quite the chuckle out of that.

Ready

Ready by Eric Payette.

Boy, does this bring back memories!

Many years ago (I was probably no older than thirteen), as I slept soundly in my bed, I awoke to "Pat! Pat!" being called out by my brother Mike.

It was probably 1:00 in the morning — maybe later — and our parents were at another couple's house playing cards or something. Of course, I was groggy and a little dazed at the harshness of Mike's voice, but I crawled out of bed and headed toward the living room to see what was going on.

As I made the left turn from the short hallway outside my bedroom into the dining room, I looked up and to the right where Mike stood with my dad's 16-gauge shotgun pointed, essentially, right at me.

It was probably the strangest thing I've even awakened to... possibly the strangest moment I've ever had in my life (well, except for that three-breasted prostitute in Rio*).

I don't recall what I said at that moment, but he told me to call mom and dad. Apparently, someone had broken a window in our basement and our dog (Snoopy) had begun to bark and go nuts — something which I managed to sleep through.

So, the gun was pointed at the door in the kitchen which led to the basement — not at me. Well, sort of not at me. It was a shotgun, after all, and I could have been standing several feet either side of the barrel's intended target and still have been in the path of its buckshot!

I really couldn't think much about that, though... I had to call my parents. Where was the phone? On the wall... in the kitchen... next to the door that led to the basement.

Have you ever had a gun pointed at you by a sixteen year old? Do you understand why this photograph stirs memories?

Well, I made the phone call and my parents arrived shortly (they were only a couple of blocks away), and we found that whoever had broken the window didn't gain entry. Likely, Snoopy's barking did the trick in running them off.

You know... to this day, I've never asked Mike if the gun was loaded.


*Just kidding! I've never been to Rio!

Festival Of The Sun

Tent City

I volunteered at the Festival Of The Sun last evening... it's a beer/wine tasting fundraising event for Lansing, Michigan's Old Town Business District.

A friend and I poured wine for a local distributor. By about 9:30, our booth was the only one with wine left, so we were inundated with many "whatever you have" requests.

Ohmigawd are drunk women obnoxious!

Amtrak Sunset

Thanks much to the amazing Catherine Jamieson for including me amongst the contributors to her Trains project.

Catherine is a tireless (sleepless?) photographer/artist living in Winnipeg's Big Sky country (in Canada's Manitoba Province), who regularly takes the time to put together projects such as this as a matter of promoting other photographers.

Catherine is one of the most prolific producers of imagery I have ever known and I suggest that you visit her flickr site — you will marvel at what you see.