Snap. Shot.

Funeral for a Friend.

2024-01-18T19:29:00.000-08:00

“Well my time went so quicklyI went lickety-splickly out to my old '55As I drove away slowly, feeling so holyGod knows, I was feeling alive.”

If you have yet to figure it out, every day we awake and rise out of bed is a good day. Especially when you consider the alternative.

I have not written “Snap. Shot” in a while, and this one is going to be somewhat different than my previous posts; as far as I am concerned, when you come across someone like Raymond Joseph Petsche, you realize he was a “once-in-a-lifetime” friend. That was Ray, or as I referred to him, Ray “my major league main man” Petsche.

Why would I call him that? Not only was Ray a genuine good guy, he also loved baseball—he was truly major league!

He was a business associate who became my friend when we met back in the early 90s. It didn’t take long to develop; we were at a sales meeting and believe it or not --- we were roommates. Back in those days, when most media companies were having lavish sales meetings, we had roommates. Looking back, I am thankful we did. He was our research director—and also THE smartest guy I knew at the time, and funny, nothing ever changed after that day.

Plus...

He didn’t have an ego. I mean he never got the memo that said, “you are the director of research for the company, you are supposed to let people know you are smart, talented, and most of all an ‘a-hole.’” Like I said, he never got that memo.

Ray had much more than a work life---but he also worked very hard. He had a family with 2 kids he adored, and even though he and his wife divorced...of what I am told they were never mean or bitter toward one another. I can say for sure, he always had nice things to say about her---and I would be very surprised if that were not the same from her.

For two people not having worked together for 16 years, every time I would call him or vice versa, we just started the conversation where we left off. That was Ray, and he was a "major league main man” of a friend.

There was one other passion Ray had, it was his 1955 Yellow Chevrolet Bel Air. This car---of what I recall--was passed down to him by either his father or grandfather. It was, and still is, as pristine as the day it came off the assembly line. Also because he lived in California, rust is not something you find on cars as often as we do in the Midwest--it was beautiful. When he drove around, I have to believe heads would turn, and questions about the car were likely asked over and over. I am sure Ray answered them all.

Over they years, we didn’t talk as often as I would have liked---but that’s part of life; however, I do remember when we were last in contact. The day was July 11, 2022 when I sent a note out to a number of people, including Ray, about one of our counterparts who had passed away. We caught up that day and promised to stay in touch.

That brings us to where we are today. This past December, I called Ray’s phone, and it went to voicemail. As I always did, I sald, “Ray my ‘major league main man” let’s talk---and I waited for him to return my call. It was the following night when my phone rang and I saw his name come across the screen. I answered and said, “Ray, what’s going on?” However, it wasn’t Ray, it was his daughter Kimi on the other end of the line. My heart sank. I learned Ray had passed away on January 23, 2023 at 5:42 AM and felt the tear rolling down my cheek---I just wanted to speak with him one more time, it will have to be another time.

For many of us, we have Raymond Joseph Petsche’s in our life. I was the lucky one to have known him for more than 30 years.

The photo above was taken in Inverness, CA. Of what I can tell, this is not a 55 Bel Air, but if you look closely, you will see a face in the window. It looks like James Dean; Ray was not a James Dean type person, but I assure you they are good friends upstairs in heaven, and on some road, right now, they're driving that "Ol' 55."

Thank you for your friendship, Ray, you left one hell of an impression on this world and an even bigger one on me.

Thanks for stopping by.

One.

2023-01-19T05:57:00.003-08:00

“But you see everyday that we'll never turn away

When it seems all your dreams come undone

We will stand by your sideFilled with hope and filled with pride

We are more than we are

We are one.”

If you are ever looking to find teamwork in action, go out and find a local field, court or rink and you will see it right in front of you. Age, gender or race doesn’t matter, a team is a team and when they believe in one another it all becomes one.

Over the time I have written “Snap.Shot.” I have been pretty open about my not being much of an athlete. It’s not that I didn’t have the interest, I didn’t have the capabilities as others did. But as I have said then, and I will say today, “that’s okay, I am in a much better situation being a photographer.” That’s not to say I have avoided being involved in the sport from the sidelines, I have had a bat fly right over my head (a couple of times), a puck come into the penalty box where I was shooting, and countless near misses on the football field. Why do I do it? Because I love it and it makes me feel like I am part of the game.

However, the best part of taking pictures is the interaction between players; high fives, pats on the back and many hugs are what make it all worth it. For such a tough sport, football players it seems, are the ones who show the most love to one another—-I sense they know and have grown up knowing one bad hit ends their dreams. Don’t get me wrong, hockey, baseball and other sports show the grit and emotion, it’s just that I am much more familiar with football. Plus, I have seen the impact a fallen player has on the team and it is not something you EVER photograph.

Probably the one photo I have taken that demonstrated the power of a team was when I photographed a state championship football game a number of years ago. Both teams were powerhouses, and they were determined to have that crown. Back and forth the lead transferred from one team to another. In the end, as the clock wore down, it was a tie and they went into overtime.

The other team ended up winning the game, and sure it was a disappointment, but that day there really were no losers; it just ended up with one team having more points. It was the photo that was captured... with one team jumping with excitement, and the other on their knees with hands covering their eyes, that proved to me, this is more than a sport, it’s a brotherhood (or sisterhood). That was the moment I knew what the best of the best photographers have done for years…shoot for the moment, it speaks volumes.

The photo above was taken this past season. As one player knelt down, his teammate let him know, “I have your back.” What really brought it all together, and I didn’t notice it until I looked at the photo when I got home, was the word, “Glory” in the distance—-for a team, there is no greater "glory" than working together, it’s what makes it all worth it and when you are on the sidelines, taking pictures, the very reason I do it.

Thanks for stopping by.

Coming to Vegas is no gamble.

2023-01-18T18:06:00.002-08:00

“There's a world outside every darkened door

Where blues won't haunt you anymore

Where the brave are free and lovers soar

Come ride with me to the distant shore.”

Last night, in a span of less than 15 minutes, I travelled to New York, Paris, and ended up in the Sahara; I didn’t even have jet lag!

This week I have been in Las Vegas for a conference. Up until a couple of months ago, I had not been here in several years. If you are wondering if “Vegas is back,” I can verify it sure is. Many visitors, hotel rooms in short supply, and prices for food and entertainment through the roof. We went to a buffet the past 2 mornings, and let’s just say they are making up for the two years of lost revenue—the cost per buffet $33 and it was packed.

But there is something about visiting here. I am not much of a gambler, but it is fun to hear the excitement of those who do play…and win. I am pretty sure those who are on the losing end have a different response. The weather since coming has been a welcome sight; highs in the 50s and if there were clouds, they were no where to be seen when I emerged from the building at the conference.x

Last night, we saw some of the unique sides of Vegas. As we stood waiting for the dancing waters at the Bellagio—-Spiderman, Mickey and Minnie, and Elvis came by. For $5, you could spend “some” time with these iconic characters, have your picture taken, and watch them move on to their next waiting visitors who were all over the opportunity. The part that was funniest to me was when Mickey removed his head, pulled out a cigarette and had a smoke. I am sure Walt Disney would not be impressed—I wish I took a picture, but he was too far away by the time I saw it.

The photo above was taken the other night; it may appear to taken in New York with the Statue of Liberty and other well known iconic buildings in the background, but I am sorry to say it was not. Yet, just down a short way, should you have wanted to see Paris or spend time in the Sahara, they were waiting for you (and your money!)

Thanks for stopping by.

What we learned or did we?

2023-01-17T16:49:00.002-08:00

“When you're down and out

When you're on the street

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort youI'll take your part

Oh, when darkness comes

And pain is all around.”

Every day is a new adventure. Some days you’re on top of the world, some right in the middle, and others…they just suck. We have all had them and for some, getting up from being down is a real struggle—-these are the times when a “friend in need, is a friend in deed.”

Today’s “Snap. Shot.” is not meant to be a downer, actually I am hoping it lifts some to go help others. I have been on both sides of the table, and I know it feels good when someone cares or you are the one doing the caring. During the past few years, through no fault of anyone, we have experienced one of the most difficult times of our lives. Unless you were around 102 years ago when the last pandemic was around—-we were not prepared for what was about ready to happen; for most of us, we suddenly became confined to our dwellings. No friends, no family, and no outside world…I still can’t believe it happened, but with all of those who lost their lives, it did.

Yet, with all of the loss, we suddenly found ways to do things differently; we communicated through our screens, we talked on the phone (yes, that device you hold in your hand is actually a phone) and suddenly we put all of the “me, me” on to the “we, we.” The world bonded in a very unique way, and we yearned for the days when we could once again be normal. I am not sure if we will ever be at that place again, but it is getting better.

However, what about those who have still yet to recover? Those who lost loved ones, relationships, jobs and much more? It’s a time when we have to reach back and once again be human; my sense is, as I have now begun traveling once more, that a lot has been forgotten…and it doesn’t feel good.

If you know someone who is alone, or you suspect needs a hand, reach out. If you don’t know someone like this, do something nice for someone when you encounter them and is a complete stranger. Open a door, say, “Hello,” let them cut inline, you just might make their day—if not theirs, yours for sure.

The photo above was taken in Colorado a few months ago. High on a hill stood a bush with no other tall vegetation around it. It reminded me of how lonely it was during the pandemic—we were not allowed to be within 6 feet of one another, covered our faces, and were terrified to be human contact with out fear taking over. I learned a lot during these times, and most of all, I learned the importance of friendship.

Thanks for stopping by.

No do overs.

2023-01-16T06:40:00.003-08:00

"Goin’ to the chapel

And we're gonna get married

Goin’ to the chapel

And we're gonna get married”

If you have ever attended a wedding, or been in one yourself, you know it’s a big ordeal. Much more than the piece of paper you receive, it’s a life-long commitment and you often have pictures to prove it happened.

I have been to weddings, had weddings, and been behind the camera at them. Of the three, being behind the camera is the one I enjoy the least; I guess I just eliminated myself from any future photography jobs, but I knew before I wrote the line that I didn’t want to do them again. It’s just not my thing….although there are certainly stories to share, about when I did do them.

Wanna know?

One of the first weddings I photographed was for my nephew. It was pretty smooth for the first time, and scenery was outstanding. But, like any one-of-a-kind event that you can’t screw up, there’s a lot of stress and you constantly have to check to make sure you captured the shot. Fortunately, they did.

That was the easy one.

With other weddings, I have dealt with a groomsman who was not in the mood to be a part of the group photos; he was so against it, he tried to pick a fight with me. I was fine with it, but I also knew I had a job to do, and let him know with or without him in the picture, it was going to be taken. I guess he had too much to drink—-that was not my problem, and the groom stepped in and told him to “$&#(“ get over there and take the picture. I didn’t make a friend that night, but I did make sure that I took the photo and if he looked bad, once again, not my problem. He looked fine by the way, but deep down, I wanted him to look like the idiot he was being.

As people become familiar with your ability to take wedding photos, they begin to recommend you to others. I have photographed weddings that were of different ethnicities—-very cool—-and others where they were taken in unique settings. One of my favorites, and it is not what you’re expecting, was at the Justice of the Peace; it was crowded in the room, but the kids who were in the wedding party were very photogenic and added to the moment.

One little boy could not stop making faces as he watched his Mom transition from being single to married. I still have the photos and they are ones I treasure---I hope they do too. We then went to an incredible location on the lake front of Lake Michigan.

The last wedding I photographed was one where my daughter, wife and I all took photos. I guess they thought the pictures would edit themselves on their own, they didn’t, because that night combined, there were over 9,000 photos taken. (That was when “never again” became my mantra.”)

The photo above was taken this past fall; a hidden gem in Chicago is the “Honeycomb.” I had never seen it until a few years ago, but when I did, I was awe struck. When we went this time, there was a woman being photographed; I assumed it was a wedding dress, but it also might be a “quinceanera”—-she looks older than 15, but regardless, it brought back memories of something I will never do again!

Thanks for stopping by.

Weather or not.

2023-01-15T05:27:00.000-08:00

“Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps rainin' all the time.”

These days, we can’t look at a weather map and see any place that’s truly safe from potential bad weather. The “wanna go during the winter” locations are all under warnings of flooding, snow, or tornadoes…and/or whatever Mother Nature decides to toss at us. Recently it appears one of the best regions to be in is the Midwest. It’s been in the 30’s and 40’s, very little snow or rain, and it’s Winter!! Yes, the Midwest.

Just to be 100% clear, I hate winter.

The only benefit when I was growing up about winter, was the chance of school being cancelled. I am sure we all remember the days when we would listen to the radio (that’s how we got the news back then) and prayed, “please say my school!” When they did, homes erupted in joy and screams. Then we settled down and thought, “What do we do now?” If there was a lot of snow, we were trapped, if there was not, we knew it was a “one day only” and they might add on another day at the end of the year. I was always willing to take the risk.

Winter weather in the Midwest tends to be one of 3 things: Cold, snow or ice. Sometimes we “win the lottery and get all three!” You really knew there was a problem when it was say 34 degrees, raining, and the temperature would drop below freezing—- then snow would layer on top of the ice. The cold component was always consistent.

We lived in the middle of a “drive,” yet it really was a “court.” The only way to come on to our street was the only way to get out. The incline or decline, depending on which way you were heading, was enough to create some very interesting situations. If you were turning onto the street, the chances of sliding were the same as “cold” being a part of our winter—-100%. The same would be true when you were trying to get out of the street. Back then, we used to switch tires from summer to winter for more traction; some even had “studs for greater “gripping and ripping” up of the streets.

Fortunately we are accustomed to the weather changes throughout the year, however we can’t say for sure when it’s going to happen. There have been times in late May when it has snowed, and in January there have been tornadoes—I have witnessed both. I like consistency the most, but it does make for good conversation when you get really weird changes.

I happen to be a fan of weather changes because it makes for great photography. Sure, summer is wonderful with its blue cloudless skies—-but it makes for lousy pictures. Toss in a Cumulonimbus cloud and now you’re talking!

The photo above was taken a couple of years ago in Florida. It was the middle of the pandemic; we were at a swimming pool, no masks it’s Florida after all, and in the distance I see a cloud—not just your wispy high-in the-sky cloud, this was the mother of all mothers. I took out my iPhone, my camera was back at the condo, and I snapped away. Since I happen to love clouds, I knew if I blew it this time, I would be kicking myself. Fortunately, I didn’t have to.

Thanks for stopping by.

A dog's life.

2023-01-14T09:29:00.007-08:00

“You ain't nothin' but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

You ain't nothin' but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit

And you ain't no friend of mine.”

I think I can speak for anyone reading today’s “Snap. Shot.”— they have never lived a dog’s life. If so, would you please provide insight on what you were thinking when I would walk into a room, seek out a seat, and have you decide I was going to have to sit elsewhere. Yet, when you were hungry, you knew who you had to come to…and when I didn’t respond fast enough you were all over me to fulfill your desires.

Dog ownership has not been part of my life for several years, and even prior to the final canine leaving the scene, there were long periods of living in a “dog free zone.” Why did we get the dogs? It was for the kids who made promises of “walking, feeding and loving them.” They did love them, the other two qualifiers, if it were up to the kids, the dogs would have run away within the first few weeks.

At one point, and I will give one of our daughters credit for “sophisticated manipulation”— we not only got one dog, she somehow convinced us that having 2 dogs would make the other one happier. I didn’t believe it, but others did—-so we soon had 2 Boxers. One was extremely bright, his name was "Carter," and the other, well the genes passed on to his brother. His name was Cash, and whereas he was loving, his redeeming qualities were the ability to bark and pull your arms out of socket when you took him on a walk.

I do like dogs, and in general they seem to like me. I have had to pull back at times, even when I have asked their “humans” if they were friendly, but I can’t really blame them for not wanting me to invade their zone—they didn’t know me. We live in an area where there are many dogs, and probably the friendliest ones have the toughest rap on them; yes, there are many pit bulls in our area. Except for being very strong, they are actually loving and have a real desire for humans. Not to consume, but for companionship.

It is not fully planned yet, but when I retire, I want to get a dog. Not a small one, I want a DOG! We have some guidelines that will have to be followed, such as shedding, temperament, and of course being larger..but these are very doable and I know I would like to have a “buddy.” I have already been told, that will not be his name. So, I want “Woody” instead.

The photo above was taken last week at a friend’s house. I met “Bubba” when I walked in to the house. He was a large dog, he didn’t shed, and he was friendly. It turns out he was bred to be a companion for someone in need; I don’t remember why, but our friends were able to adopt him. I said a number of times, “This is the type of dog I would love to have.” I guess we will just have to see—right now we are dog free, but if we do get one in the near future, you can count on reading about him in “Snap. Shot."

Thanks for stopping by.

Hometowns.

2023-01-13T05:44:00.007-08:00

“I been there, done that

But I ain't looking back on the seeds I've sown

Saving dimes, spending too much time on the telephone

Who says you can't go home?”

For many of us, “home” is where we were born, raised, and currently live. For the rest of us, our hometown is a thing of the past.

I no longer live in my hometown, and based upon the number of years I have lived in Chicago, I have to wonder, “Has my original hometown switched to where I currently live?” That was deep, my bad. For sure, I feel more “planted” today in Chicago, but there are still certain components of St. Louis that are imbedded deep inside me.

For example, I developed real friendships there and some are still around today. When you return to the area, no matter how long you have been gone, you are welcomed back. The Cardinals are still a much better team than the Cubs and I will NEVER wear any thing that has the Cubs logo on it. I do have a t-shirt from when they won the World Series in 2016, it sits in a drawer; I figure over the many decades until it happens again, maybe my great grandkids will be able to sell it for more than I purchased it.

We live in much different times today than when my grandparents came to America; based upon what I experienced with my Dad, he was born in Iowa, moved to St. Louis as a young child, and never left. Same with his brother. My Mom, she was born and stayed in the city she called home as well--St. Louis is very much a part of my family.

Of my siblings, only my brother has remained in my hometown; my sister and I moved away, and as far as my kids, they are scattered all over. Fortunately none live outside the U.S. at this time, but they live far enough away that that Canada is closer than they are.

With the help of technology, it really doesn’t matter where you live to feel like you are connected. Thanks to Zoom, smartphones, and email (it’s better than snail mail) you can feel like you are right there, even if you are not. I wonder, if in the not to distant future, will we be able to travel as close to speed of light and be in one place moments after you just left another? I am not talking from one room to another, I mean from one place hundreds of miles away. If it sounds too “Jetson’s” like, but someone, somewhere is thinking about this and might have a prototype. (We will probably see it on Shark Tank!)

The photo above was taken this past fall. It was a beautiful night in Chicago; I stood by the Shedd Aquarium, pointed my iPhone toward the skyline, and pushed the button. I will probably not retire in Chicago, but I can say with certainty, it will be the place I live the longest. I do like it here, and will always have fond memories, but I will never root for the Cubs.

Thanks for stopping by.

Blocked.

2023-01-12T13:52:00.004-08:00

“I hid the clouded wrath of the crowd,

But when they said, “Sit down,” I stood up,

Ooh, ooh, growin’ up.”

Last night I was at the Bulls v. Wizards basketball game in Washington D.C. This week our company had what we call, “quarterly sales kick-offs” and sure enough, we had an open night; my beloved Chicago Bulls were in town to play against another below .500 team. One of my associates said, “You want to go?” He didn’t even have to get the words out before I said, “Yes.”

Now, for some reason, the seats in D.C. are a lot less expensive than the same ones would be in Chicago. Probably two-thirds less. So, I really was “IN”… as were five of my other teammates. Of no great shock, I wanted to bring my camera; I checked the website, downloaded the restrictions, went to the front desk of my hotel, measured the size of my lens, and off we went.

Getting into a stadium is not as easy as it used to be. You walk through a metal detector, unzip your jacket, smile (I always do) and walk through to the other side. That’s when I heard, “You can’t bring that in here!”

I asked a very astute question, “Why?”

I was told, “The lens is too long.” I stood my ground, because what was I going to do, go back to my hotel? The guard called over one of her associates who said, “The camera is fine but the lens is not.” Once again, I stood my ground, and he said, “I know the rules.” He then called over another guard who must have said, “Let him through and off I went…there was no way I was looking back!”

The seats my associate purchased were amazing. They were 7 rows from the court, along the baseline and had a clear view of the court. I was as close to basketball heaven as I could be without putting on my Nike’s.

One of the best things about Capital One stadium is how the seats are positioned to provide a very good vantage point. The person in front of me didn’t stand a chance of blocking me unless they stood up. Which, they didn’t. I was sitting next to some Wizard’s fans, one had never been to a game before and commented, “For a first game, it does not get much better than this for seats.”

Then it happened, it was in the 2nd quarter, the Bulls were on the end of the court where I was sitting. I heard laughter and rustling of people moving to let this creature come down the stairs. Sure enough, “G-Wiz” the mascot was coming our way. He not only came our way, he sat two rows in front of us. I guess he, I assume it’s a he, knows that there are people in the stands who come to watch the game. Or in my case, watch and take pictures at the game.

So…

He stood up about a minute later and went on to distract others in the stands away from where we were sitting. So what was a distraction, turned into a photo opportunity…and in some crazy way, I am glad he came by.

The photo above is of “G-Wiz” sitting next to some other Bulls fans who had even better seats than we did. They were vocal about their allegiance to the Bulls, and some Wizards fans behind them were not real happy how they were acting. So I watched, kept my mouth shut and kept taking pictures…I already avoided having my camera confiscated, this was not going to be the next one.

Thanks for stopping by.

It's nice to be back again.

2023-01-11T04:33:00.002-08:00

“And I can't wait to get on the road again

On the road again

Goin' places that I've never been

Seein' things that I may never see again

And I can't wait to get on the road again.”

If you have ever seen the movie, “Up in the Air,” you know the story. If you have ever experienced a pandemic, you know the same story. You stay put. Unlike the character in the movie, it turns out he was not confined to the walls of his home, for the rest of us, we had to. I am so glad this is in the rear view mirror and hope it never happens again.

I am a salesman. Hopefully not one of “those” salesman, I have been doing this for decades and it has been quite an adventure. I have been fortunate to not have to be on the road every week, but there were times when I would be “out of the office” during the month for several days. It allowed me to meet new people, see new sites, and gain weight. If you are like me, when you break routine, lack of routine breaks you.

Many years ago I used to run. I was with my boss, and these were back in the days when salesmen brought liquor with them on the road. I was not part of that generation, but my boss was. So, as he sat back after a long day, I went for a run; we were in Iowa and the temp was probably 95 degrees. As an intelligent runner, I ran on the blacktop of the highway which should have melted my Nike’s but fortunately did not.

But, when I got back, looking like I had just taken a shower—-I hadn’t—-he asked, “Want a drink?” Since I wanted to appear invincible, I said, “sure.” The rim of the glass and first sip scotch were soon touching my lips and I drank it. Big mistake. I went back to my room and regretted it. Never again.

Starting about 20 years ago, when I traveled, I began bringing my camera with me. It was portable, I was typically driving by myself, and when I saw something I wanted to capture, I would pull over and snap away. It was the best way I knew to capture a portion of America and I didn’t have to pay to do it, the company did! However, since I often would pull over on the side of the interstate, there were many truck drivers who did not appreciate what I was doing. Apparently, I was a distraction. Whatever.

Life on the road is back, and I could not be happier. It’s still in the “trickle stage" as Zoom and other technologies have made it much easier to be there and back in a split second—-but there is still something about being able to travel again.

The photo above was taken in Colorado. I was not traveling for business, the state is not part of my territory; but when I think back just a few years ago at this time, when no one seemed to leave their homes, I can say it’ “great to be on the road again.”

Thanks for stopping by.

What the heck was that?

2023-01-10T05:09:00.004-08:00

“I’m learning to fly,

But I ain’t got wings,

Coming down is the hardest thing,

“I’m learning to fly.”

There is something that still amazes me; it’s the ability to place yourself inside a narrow tube and soar up to the sky. Fortunately for the others in the tube, I am not the pilot.

Growing up in St. Louis, we had a connection to flight. McDonnell Douglas, as it was known at the time, was based there and often times you would hear the roar of jets overhead as they tested whether or not the planes would fly. Not really, but there were individuals flying them known as “test pilots,” so it’s not that far off. We would sometimes go to the airport and see the planes near the runway, they were “beautiful birds;” with their shields up ready to be lowered soon racing to the “wild blue yonder.”

As a kid, like many, we all were in awe of airplanes. Whereas they had been around for many years, it’s a bit of a wake up call to think I was born roughly 30 years after commercial airlines were introduced as a means of travel; nothing like today…they served food on board!

It was a big deal to be able to fly. As a family, we would travel to Florida for vacation and one time, we flew. I had to dress up for the flight, be respectful, and not ask too many questions. I am not sure if I ever got “pilots wings” on my first flight, but I do know the airline that we flew was gobbled up by another one long ago. It was Eastern Airlines. It was incredible to not spend 3 days in the back of a car, cramped between my brother and sister, and be in Florida in a matter of hours.

Since those days I have flown many times. Mostly within the U.S. borders, however one time I did cross the big pond; since I have trouble sleeping on planes, it was a really long flight home.

As I prepare to leave home today and next week for business travel, I will be stepping into the ‘tube;” it’s now something that is no longer a big deal. You don’t have to dress up, and if you ask too many questions, you are seen as a nuisance and are “tagged” by the flight attendants as someone to watch. Oh how things have changed.

Flying is a topic I am sure will come up again in “Snap. Shot.” there are countless stories we all can relate to. Some are average and some you might scratch your head and say, “Did that really just happen?” Yes, I have some of those to tell.

The photo above was taken at the Air & Water Show this past year. I was on the shore of Lake Michigan and watched two airplanes come over the horizon; I knew there was no way they were going to crash into one another, but when I later looked at the photo, I couldn’t help but wonder what the tenants of the building were thinking. I know what I would have been wondering.

Thanks for stopping by.

Estate sales.

2023-01-09T04:51:00.004-08:00

“Before you take a girl and say I do, now,

Make sure she's in love with-a you now.

My mama told me, "You better shop around."

If you have ever been to one, and then returned to others multiple times, you now know the addiction of going to estate sales. They suck you in, swirl you around and spit you out with items you had no idea you desperately needed. I am an estate sale addict and I am just fine with it.

The first estate sale that took a bite out of me, was in St. Louis with my Dad and sister. I had been to other garage sales and “attempted” estate sales, but this one was truly an “ESTATE SALE.” The home was huge and the items inside were very eclectic; in other words, turn the corner and you will find another amazing “wow” for sale—-and in this case, at a very fair price. (That is not always the case.)

Now don’t get me wrong, this was not my first rodeo going to sales like this…my wife and I were going to antique sales long before this venture in St. Louis. But I had yet to get the bug. With her, I went because she has a taste for antiques and the place we went, they had antiques! Another major draw, kettle corn; yes, that will get me to go places too!

Over the years, my love for “seeking the find” has increased. It now has focused on a few areas of interest, but I know there has to be something for both of us to really get the juices flowing. For me, it’s sports memorabilia and rusty things—-one is much easier to find than the other, but when you do…jackpot!

However, the best part of going to estate sales—- “find the find,“ it’s an amazing feeling.

This past year—since I began photographing still life—anything rusty or unique, that’s not expensive, is what I am seeking. I can tell you, the saying “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure’’ is very appropriate. It’s when you visualize that trash into a photo, is when it becomes priceless. (Okay, “priceless” is not accurate, but you end up wanting it very badly.)

The photo above is the combination of 2 items I purchased; one was from Ebay, the other from a recent estate sale. The combined cost…I don’t remember, but probably no more than $10. The art piece was created about 40+ years ago by a local student who had lived in the home where I purchased it; when I saw it, I was hoping it was a treasure that had substantial value—-it didn’t. However, I really didn’t care, I just liked it and saw a second life for the piece in future photos. Ah the allure of the estate sale--on to the next one.

Thanks for stopping by.

Eyes wide shut.

2023-01-08T07:19:00.003-08:00

“Taking it to the streets

No more need for running

Taking it to the streets.”

There are countless photographs that have been taken by people who roam the streets looking to capture what most people never see. Whether taken in their local towns, big cities or across the globe, the click of the shutter stops time.

I am going to assume ever since the camera became strapped around necks, held in hands, or placed in pockets—-the intrigue of photography has only gotten stronger. During the “film” days, you had a limited number of pictures you could take; most of us now realize that number has multiplied almost a thousand fold, and there is no need to load, unload or take the film to a kiosk to get printed. Hence, the demise of Kodak and other film-based companies.

I still have my first camera. It isn’t like most cameras, it was a Minolta-16 Spy Camera Model P. My Dad brought it back from a trip he took to Japan decades ago. I still have the box and all of the components that came with it, the problem is, it took lousy pictures and I suspect the film needed is no longer available. But, I still have it and will never get rid of it.

With that camera, I perfected my talents of photographing water glasses, exit signs and other “amazing pictures.” I had no idea what to do with it, so I just used it and took pictures of nonsensical things.

It’s hard to believe how photography has evolved in my life; had it not been for some “life events,” I would never have gotten "the bug." Glad I did. Today I take more pictures than I ever thought I would; but am still not completely comfortable with street photography. There is something about walking around and taking someone’s picture without them realizing that creeps me out.

The photo above was taken on a side street in Chicago. I didn’t have to ask permission because the piece had no eyes or upper half of its face; sure it had a mouth, but I was long gone before it could let me know how they felt about my taking their picture.

Thanks for stopping by.

Getting to the pointe.

2023-01-07T08:32:00.001-08:00

“Sing with me, sing for the year

Sing for the laughter and dingier the tear,

Sing with me, it’s just for today,

Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away,

Dream on, dream on, dream on,

Dream until your dreams come true.”

For many young girls, the desire to place dance shoes on their feet is immense. It seems to start a few years after their first steps and at the latest after they’ve started school. Our daughters are an example, every one took dance, every one had dreams, and every one moved on to different passions.

Why? It’s very hard on your body and the commitment is intense.

When I was much younger, I remember we would be “forced” to attend a ballet performance; I constantly looked at my watch, or at least asked “What time is it?” a number of times. I am sure I ruined the performance for whomever I was asking, but I was bored to death and wanted to leave as quickly as it was over. I had better things to do, like play sports with my friends.

Then, several years later, when my daughters began dance, I started to understand why dance was so important to them. It is an art and a beautiful one at that. Sure, I enjoy sports more, but at least I got to the point where I didn’t look at my watch and have a yearning to go play sports with my buddies.

It was only about 7 years ago when I got the bug for dance, specifically ballet—-not as a performer, but as a photographer. My two youngest daughters were taking dance at a local school and I had been selected as the photographer for a particular event. I don’t even remember, but for sure it was not The Nutcracker. How do I know? I was “volunteered” to be one of the parents in the play—-fortunately I did not have to wear the bottom half of the traditional outfit most men wear.

As I look back on those times, I now have a much better understanding of the grace and beauty of dance. There are a few photographers I follow who have done incredible shoots—-usually with a background of “everyday scenery;” these backgrounds bring any boredom I used to experience into pure excitement.

The photo above is a still shot—-I would never have been able to capture this image had I not seen a bag of pointe shoes in a window of a local store. No cost, I just had to let her know my plans for them. She thought it sounded like a fitting (no pun) end for them. What I saw in them were dreams—some broken, some still moving forward.

Thanks for stopping by.

If I only knew back then.

2023-01-06T05:03:00.004-08:00

I’ve got sand in my shoes,

And I can’t shake the thought of you,

I should get on, forget you,

But why would I want to?

I’ve still got sand in my shoes.

When I was in 7th grade, my first week or two of junior high as we called it back then, I saw my first pair of Puma tennis shoes, Where I grew up, we referred to them as “tennis shoes” not, athletic, basketball, sneakers, or anything else…they were “tennis shoes” whether you stepped on the court or not?

When I saw these white shoes with a black upside down wing, I knew instantly what were gracing my feet were not going to do. I went from, “Who cares?” to “I need a pair!” The only problem was, I could not afford them. They were after all $19 and of what I recall my parents, and I can’t blame them said, “No.”

As I went back day after day, I would look at these shoes that were on someone else’s feet; then I saw other pairs on other feet, and it became an obsession. How was I going to ever be part of the cool kids without a pair of Puma’s? So, after countless conversations and creative begging, I convinced my parents that the investment was worth it.

We went to the store, and soon those shoes were on my feet; I was complete. Back then, it was not cool to wear white socks or even black socks with shoes, so we often went sockless.

Then the problems started. The shoes had little lining and would rub my feet to the point where blisters began to form. When I brought it up to my parents they had little empathy. Check that, they had no empathy…this was my problem and I was going to have to deal with it. Many Band-Aids later, the blisters got better, but never did I complain about my shoes again.

That is until I needed a new pair, as my beloved Puma’s wore out. At that point, Puma had fallen out of favor and Adidas was now “the” brand to wear. Problem was, they were even more expensive. But again, with creative pleading, my first pair of Adidas Superstars soon were on my feet and part of my attempt of fitting in. The best part of what I recall, they had padding and no blisters. The factual part, I was far from cool.

Since those days I have had countless pairs of “tennis shoes” and I still wear them today. However, I have learned that cool is not necessarily wearing white shoes, I have had multiple colors over the years. My daughter bought me a pair of black shoes for my birthday last year. They certainly don’t show the dirt.

The photo above was taken recently of a pair of shoes I have, but rarely wear; whereas they are comfortable, they are seen frequently on the feet of older men. Combined with a pair of Cargo shorts, they are pretty much the go to. Okay, confession, I have ditched the shoes, but still love my shorts! Sue me.

Thanks for stopping by.

Back then.

2023-01-05T04:47:00.000-08:00

“There must be some word today,

From my boyfriend so far away,

Please, Mr. Postman, look and see

Is there a letter, a letter for me?”

I am going to assume anyone out there who is reading this recalls the days before email, texts, and “DM’s.” Certainly the “advancement of instant” has had a huge effect on communication—-you might remember the days when you would talk on the phone to someone you desperately wanted to speak to, while at the same time had your eye on the clock to make sure it was not going to cost you a fortune.

If you didn’t, I did!

My parents were quite accepting of my phone habits. It would usually start right after dinner, I mean who would do homework?, when the phone would ring, and the words, “It’s for me” would come out of my mouth; then the night would begin, and end, with a receiver to my ear attached to a cord plugged into the wall.

If we only knew what lie ahead back in the day. If you think about it, we were pretty much cocooned to the “area codes” where we lived—those were border lines where your friends lived, yet back then they were broad enough to cover many miles. But there was always a way to be in touch if we wanted to and it was cheap. We wrote letters. Yes, as on paper. Sounds foreign now, but the mail was the best way to reach out beyond the borders and connect with those who were really important. Whether they were across the state, country or globe, the letter was a lifeline and I loved going out to the mailbox to see if there was anything for me?

Prior to the demise of long distance, I wrote a lot of letters to those far away. Most were to a girlfriend who lived about 300 miles away or so, and then others to friends where the letter was the norm to keep in touch. I miss those days, but if this is how I communicated today, I would never hear from anyone. I have one friend from high school, who I probably talk to 5 times per week. We laugh, we finish one another’s sentences, and we revert back to the days when we were really funny. We do our best to remain that way, however my family doesn’t quite agree.

Many might say technology has advanced our culture, some would say it’s destroyed it, but for sure, it has helped us “remain in constant touch” when needed. Whether that’s good or bad, it’s too late; I am not sure what’s ahead, but I suspect we will look back on these days in the future and say, “Can you believe that’s what we did back then?”

The photo above was taken in my basement. As a way to keep my camera from becoming an antique during the winter I took up shooting still shots. When you live in Chicago, there’s plenty of time to shoot. If you are not sure what that contraption is, it’s a typewriter from the last century. Back then, when you made a “typo,” you had to either correct it with “Wite-Out,” scratch it out, or start over. I did all 3 many times! Sure I miss those days, but I also like having the ability to connect, engage, and “be available” whenever I want—-I wonder what I will be saying in the years ahead about how we did it back then?

Thanks for stopping by.

What were we thinking? Or better yet, what were we drinking?

2023-01-04T04:48:00.003-08:00

“Let's hope you never leave, old friend

Like all good things on you we depend

So, stick around 'cause we might miss you

When we grow tired of all this visual.”

Many decades ago, I was a student at the University of Missouri; my major was journalism. Knowing I was never going to be a true journalist, I went to the darker side—-advertising. (My parents were accepting of it, but the question did come up from many, “What happens if you don’t sell a page in a magazine?” I would respond, "How many blank pages do you see when you open it up?”) This was not my bit of wisdom, I heard it from several other business associates and used it.

Looking back on the days when I first got into “the business,” I cannot believe how much has changed. The biggest culprit, “technology.” If you watched Mad Men, you saw it happen right before your eyes week after week. Don Draper didn’t discuss the internet or MTV back in the 60’s, the focus was on magazines, newspapers, and radio. Even TV was in its infancy back then.

However, some things didn’t change as quickly from those days—-there was still “massive” entertaining and drinking. Typically the drinking began at lunch time for most…probably earlier if you were part of the 60s crew. I remember we would go to a local restaurant, my boss would have a couple of “pops,” before lunch, and we would then sit and gorge. Being a lightweight when it comes to drinking, I was good for maybe a Bloody Mary. Sometimes, I would lie and say, I have a meeting or need to go somewhere and just have a diet soda. I couldn’t ask for a Diet Coke back then, it had yet to come to market.

Recently I was talking with a friend who was part of the business back then, and we reminisced about “those days.” There was so much happening, it’s amazing we got anything done. We must have for a while, because the media business flourished. Our discussion moved to sales meetings and the stories got better and better. I won’t get into specifics, but let’s just say, there were business relationships, marriages, and jobs lost after most of the meetings. What were we thinking? Or, what were we not thinking?

Move forward all these years to today, media is nothing like it was back then; some would say “it’s probably a good thing,” others would say, “it’s too bad.” My liver and other organs are grateful for where it is today, and thankfully my mind still has memories to recall those days.

Sadly, most of the people I worked with, and knew from the earlier days, are either no longer in the business or are no longer with us. It’s the true reality of the post-Mad Men days.

The photo above was taken in a men’s room at a Chicago restaurant; to me it signifies the amount of advertising we are now bombarded with in our lives. Long gone are the 4 primary forms of media we had back in the day, since I am in new media, I am thankful I didn’t drink too much and miss it.

Thanks for stopping by.

65,515 went silent.

2023-01-03T04:18:00.008-08:00

“A pictures worth a thousand words

But you can't see what those shades of gray keep covered

You should've seen it in color.”

For many last night, the game between the Bills and Bengals was a “want to see and say you saw.” That was until there was 5:58 remaining in the first quarter. If you don’t know what I am talking about, look it up, if you do, you realize how horrific it was to watch. (It’s actually not worth watching.)

The closest I have gotten to playing competitive football was being on the sidelines with a camera. I used to play pick-up football when I was a kid, but once when I got stiff armed, I thought, “What was that? Is that part of this game?” I walked off and really never went back. So what did I do instead? I started playing hockey. I still see that as a brilliant move although I couldn’t skate, dodge pucks very well, and even today have a partial hearing loss from a slap shot I took to the good ol’ noggin.

For many, hard hits are part of the game of football. I have been shooting from the sidelines for 13 years and I still wince when I hear the grunts, pounding of two forces coming together, and occasional screams of pain. Deep in my brain I know this is part of the game, but also…these are humans playing, not robots. But, fortunately I have never been a part of anything close to what we witnessed on TV last night.

It was so unexpected, the play-by-play callers were silenced so they sent it back to “command” center for more analysis. What could they say? They couldn’t, and it was hard to watch. One of the analysts had played the game and you knew this was stunning moment he was grasping to understand. The other two, I believe they are for commentary and other reasons, but to discuss what was going on right in front of millions of people, “live”… was not in their contract.

Football is a violent game, and one of the things I have witnessed over the years I have been photographing, are the number of players who now play or don’t play. I call that, “the Mom factor.” Many Mom’s (sorry Dad’s) say, “He’s not playing after a certain grade and that’s it.” Mom’s decision sticks. If you think I am kidding, the U.S. Army has had a campaign which targeted Mom’s. They wanted to let them know their sons should be proud to enlist in the armed forces and to please support them. In many respects, it worked. Mom’s have power.

This morning as of 6:09 AM, Demar Hamlin is sedated and in critical condition resting in a Cincinnati hospital. Our prayers are that he will fully recover. Beyond that, I have no opinion on what he should do, but if it were my son, I believe I would encourage him to walk away from the game. Life is too precious.

The photo above was taken several years ago. The initials, KJ, were for a school secretary who had passed away at the school. In many sports, these are part of the memories provided to those who touched our lives.. I am really hoping “DH”is not waiting to find a place on any helmets, jerseys, or cleats.

Thanks for stopping by.

Who moved my cheese?

2023-01-02T17:07:00.003-08:00

“It’s been a hard day’s night,

and I’ve been working like a dog,

It’s been a hard day’s night

I should be sleeping like a log.”

The rat race is coming back. For many it is now holed up in apartments, condos, and homes, and slowly but surely, some are returning back to their offices. If you need to re-read this, I don’t blame you. Never would I have suspected we would not trudge to the office and/or see many of us work out of our homes forever,

A few years ago, the word, “Corona,” was best known as a beer—-then in a short period of time, it was transformed into one of the most feared terms of the day. Now, I think it has returned to a beer. After the Corona brand was decimated, “Delta” soon became the next feared word—I suspect it could not have been good for the airline or the faucet manufacturer, and “Omicron” which is best known as the 15th letter of the Greek Alphabet. (No one has feared any letter in the alphabet as far I have known.)

On March 12, 2020, I believed we would be away from the office for a week maybe two as this mysterious virus was now “the talk.” For many of us, we didn’t go back to the office that year, and for some, we never went back at all. I was one of those who never went back.

One of the daily adventures I missed, and still do, was the walk from the train station here in Chicago. It was approximately a mile+ each way, and combined with the other paths I took, I was walking 4 miles a day. Not an astonishing number, but when you stop abruptly, it takes its toll. I am sure there are many shoe manufacturers who have suffered from my stopping and the millions of others who no longer commute.

Working in the city was really fun; it was part of my life. I had “train friends” and since that final day, I have never seen most again—the pandemic really changed our lives and I am sad to say, it looks like forever.

The photo above was taken from an open patio area 11 floors up on the building I worked in—it overlooked a busy section of Chicago. The day I took it, I knew it was the right moment. It was sunny and as I walked east, I saw the shadows lay forward to the West. It was one of those days where you might try and outpace your shadow, but at my age I knew it was not possible. It only made sense, because in the maze we all were a part of there was a constant race to get ahead.

Thanks for stopping by.

Change.

2023-01-01T06:27:00.001-08:00

“So cheers to three hundred sixty-five

Of record lows and record highs

Lovin' and losin', fun and confusin'

Prayin' and shiftin' gears

For the minute you got, it's probably a lot

More than you wanna hear

If you're hangin' around, I can tell you about it

But it might take another beer

'Cause it's been a year.”

I can’t speak for everyone I know, but for sure, turning the calendar page comes with mixed emotions. These past 365 days, as they always seem to, flew by; my hunch is 2023 will be no different.

This past year I lost people in my life I had known for more than 40 years, and some that came into my life through my wife’s former marriage—now all that will live on is their images and memories. I am sure I have lost others, but these are the only ones I can remember as I sit here with my laptop and a cup of coffee while the house is silent.

On the flip side, there are people who I have not spoken with in decades who I now am back in touch with.

So, what’s in the future? I don’t know, but if I did, I would only be surprised if it were something I didn’t see coming. In other words, there will be surprises.

Before I said to myself, “I want to start writing again,” I had to gather up the gumption to do it. It’s not an easy decision, it does take up time on certain days—on others, the thoughts and words, just magically appear on the screen. Today, it’s somewhat in between.

I am hopeful and planning to make some changes, but I also know that takes more effort at times than I am able to do. For sure I want to lose a few pounds, expand my photo horizons, and go on journeys; I, as well as others, have had to give up or adjust so much since the pandemic changed our lives. But, I believe there is a journey ahead, I just don’t know the path yet. But when I locate it, I would love for anyone reading this to come along. If you don’t have time, pop in every once in a while…I would love to have as many people on this road that can can fit in, in other words, there’s always room.

That’s it for my first day back. I began “Snap. Shot.” in the fall of 2008 when I had lost direction. It was the first time I had ever lost a job, and in the next several months would be losing my Mom. It was a year of “record lows and record highs” but I wrote every day for one solid year and that’s my plan for the next 12 calendar pages. (Oh by the way, I don’t have a wall of desk calendar!)

The photo above was taken at the annual Air and Water Show here in Chicago. That day I made a change in location—-with planes soaring around, I stood with my trusty Nikon in hand, and a much bigger lens than I normally would take the shores of Lake Michigan, and knew this was the magic I needed.

Thanks for stopping by.

Bye Mom.

2021-11-18T03:54:00.000-08:00

“Bye mom

That's what I said at five years old the first day of school

Already then I thought I was way too cool

I thought I had it figured out

And I didn't know a thing

Bye mom

Don't worry 'bout me, I'll see you at three at the bus stop

And I know that you'll be right there to pick me up

In the old truck.”

There’s a level of innocence when you’re young, and a belief that all will stay the same as you grow up. Every morning was a routine...waking up, rubbing my eyes, and then off to the kitchen to see what awaits. For me, it was usually some sugary cereal. Not because my Mom didn’t prepare something, I went for the toys and other insignificant items that hid inside the cereal box. I should have had eggs like she suggested.

My Mom took very good care of her family—and when my Dad was away at work or on a business trip, she was in charge. Actually, she was pretty much in charge when my Dad was around as he was a “very kind, laidback person.” (Don’t get me wrong, I did see him get mad a few times, but in general…he was not one to explode.)

Of what I remember, my Mom was home every day when I got off the bus; I had a habit of running to the end of our driveway… and then casually walking into the house, letting her know I was home. My first words, “I’m hungry.” If you saw me at age 6, you knew I couldn’t be that hungry as I was a pretty large boy.

“I know that's just the way it is

When you think you grown but you're still a kid

And you don't know you're somebody

That somebody loves more than themselves

And there's a beauty in the innocence

Of not knowing that the time they've spent

Is more than one could ask for

And that's a special kind of love

And it's only there for a lifetime, then it's gone.”

My Mom, as I have said before, was “My First Love.” Sure there have been other “loves” since coming into this world, but I know for sure when I came out, her first thoughts were…”welcome to our family and I love you.” I don’t remember when it started, but she had a nickname for me— she called me, “Mr. Moke.” I have no where it came from, but I remember checking to see if it was available on Missouri license plates when vanity plates became available. In the end I was too cheap, and just went with whatever was sent to me—-a hodgepodge of letters and a few numbers. I should have gone with the vanity plate, she would have loved it.

She loved her family—-and it was unconditional. Sure, there were times when I disappointed her, but she never held anything against me and fortunately had a fleeting memory. One time I actually thought she was going to wash my mouth out with soap—this was a very popular saying when I was growing up, and it was really close to happening. I talked my way out of it….always the sales guy! (Fortunately she didn't "break my neck" like she would threaten, that would have been more permanent.)

“And it's bye mom

You can drop me off down the block around the corner square

Oh, my bud is waiting for me just over there

I’ll see you later on

Bye mom it's a cap and a gown in a brand new town eight hours away

Don't cry, I'll be okay.”

Since I was the youngest, I know there was relief, and sadness, when I went off to college; now that I am on the verge of this happening with our last child, although still a couple of years away, I know it will change my life and my wife’s forever. I suspect we will look at one another and wonder how this all happened so fast?

My Mom didn’t go to college—many women her age married young, had a family and lived a much different life than we do today. I am so thankful she decided to devote so much of her life to me, my brother, sister and Dad. Thank you Mom—and thanks for making mushroom and barley soup—-it’s still my favorite and it’s all because you took the time and care to do it.

And bye mom, I sang a million morning at the Brine Street baptist church

And bye mom, I waited hours and hours till she got off of work

And bye mom, I stood and cried and laid a rose onto her grave

And bye mom, were the last words that I spoke before we sang Amazing Grace

And it's only there for a lifetime, and it’s “Bye Mom.”

Okay, if anyone has ever heard me sing, and is aware of my religion, you know I never sang a million songs in a church. But one song I know she loved was a song sung every year on Yom Kippur. It’s Kol Nidre. Many, if not most of you, have no idea of what I am talking about—-but when I hear it every year, my thoughts turn to her and I know she is enjoying it from far above. Even thought she loved it, I never sang it. You're welcome Mom, I saved you some pain by keeping my mouth shut.

My Mom was spirited and fun; when we learned on my birthday all those years ago that “something was wrong,” I was hoping that everything would be okay; but it wasn’t, and we had to say, “Bye Mom” way too soon.

The photo above was taken about 9 years before my Mom left us; I prefer to remember her this way than those last days...memories are gifts you keep, and this one is under lock and key.

Barbara Ellen Rosenbaum passed away on November 18, 2009. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about her, or my Dad; I know they are proud of the family they created and for sure are having mushroom and barley soup with friends and family all while watching over us.

“Bye Mom.”

Thanks for stopping by.

Weather or not?

2021-03-18T18:56:00.002-07:00

“Talkin' to myself and feelin' old

Sometimes I'd like to quit

Nothin' ever seems to fit

Hangin' around

Nothin' to do but frown

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.”

This time of year should be one we desperately look forward to. I mean after all winter is pretty much behind us, yet for some reason it keeps rearing its head up from the mud and dirt on the ground.

Today it was in the low 30’s here in the Chicago area; if you travel a few hundred miles to the south, you might think you are on a different planet because the temperature is 40 degrees warmer. To all of those to the south, please send the weather this way!

Talking about the weather is a common topic everywhere, but I would think since the Chicagoland area is the butt of many jokes, we probably talk about it as much if not more than other parts of the country.

One of my favorite times to watch the news is when we are expecting some wicked weather. It might be rain, snow, or heat, but when it’s coming…the weather person gets top billing and they are as serious as can be. This is their time to shine when the weather isn’t. I remember a few times when we knew a thunderstorm was on its way and the weather map was red in areas around the city—-you would have thought the weather person had won the lottery.

Weather comes and goes, but fortunately we learn to deal with what Mother Nature brings to us each day. I am going to hope we have spring here soon in Chicago because I am really sick of what we she is sending our way and not the rest of the country.

The photo above was taken years ago on Michigan Avenue in Chicago; the weather that day went from snow to sleet to rain to sun. In other words, it was Chicago weather, something you either get used to…or you move.

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Against all odds.

2021-03-17T17:34:00.003-07:00

“But we can't stop this real world from spinnin' us

Your bright lights called, I don't blame you for pickin' up

Your big dream bags are all packed up and ready to go

But I just need you to know.”

There are more than 5.1 million football players in the United States over the age of six. So, when you go to a local game on a dusty lot or in a high school stadium, you know there are dreams happening right in front of you. Now start to do the math and you realize that those who make it to the next level, and levels beyond that, you whittle down the number significantly. (If you think 5.1 million is a lot—there are more than 3X that number of baseball players.)

I remember when I was a boy, I wanted to be a hockey goalie; not just a street hockey player, I wanted to be in the NHL! I should have realized there was no way—especially when you consider there are less than 600,000 players in the U.S., and 2 goalies per team. The odds of winning the lottery were much better!

My favorite team were the St. Louis Blues. They had two goalies and one of them was a former all-star named Jacques Plante—or as I used to say, when I slipped into the role of goalie—-Jacques Rosenplante. If you are laughing, there was another player on the Blues named Gary Unger—-who became in my brother’s eyes…”Gary Ungerbaum.” Needless to say, we were living in a strange world.

But, as crazy as we were, there are men and women who made it!

Yesterday, I was talking with an associate and he told me his cousin played for the Chicago Cubs. He had been in the minors more than the majors, but he made it. He sent me a YouTube video, replaying his cousin’s first home run. It was a grand slam and because of this massive hit, “MY” St. Louis Cardinals were eliminated from making the playoffs that year. I should have been angry, but I thought it was cool. I mean, how many people go from a pool of 15 million to the pro’s? This guy did!

I never made it beyond street hockey, but when I was playing I did dream I was on the ice, with my pads and stick in my hands stopping pucks from the some of the greats who were playing during those days. It is something I still think about it today.

The photo above was taken a number of years ago; I made some changes with software and it went from a great play to a stratospheric move into space. As it turned out, I learned this player stopped playing football, but since he went to Harvard I am not concerned about his not making the pro’s!

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The skies the limit.

2021-03-16T19:45:00.001-07:00

“I’m learning to fly but I ain’t got wings

Comin’ down is the hardest thing

I’m learning to fly around the clouds

But what goes up must come down.”

I think deep down, I have always thought about how cool it would be if we could fly. I learned the reality early in life that we are not meant to do so, but I still have daydreamed about it many times.

The thought of being able to soar above buildings and look down is a visual I would love to photograph—-it will likely be from a drone. One of my bucket list wishes is to be in New York or a large city (one with congested buildings) and capture that image. If you don’t know what I am talking about, on some TV shows the opening scene you’ll see it.

I do have a way of “possibly” getting this done. When you ride to the city by train, you see many of the same people over and over again. Eventually you strike up a conversation and get to know them; in this case, I got to know both of them as they were a couple who commuted in together.

One day it came up that he was a pilot and owned an airplane. He was the first person I have known who owned one, and the first who offered me a chance to go take pictures. Although it has yet to happen due to the pandemic, I did see him recently and the topic came up. He said, “when things are better, I’ll take you.” He knows what I am looking to shoot and I would say there is a 12% chance it will happen. I think it’s illegal to violate the airspace above the buildings.

So back to flying.

I have written before about my adventure on an open cockpit bi-plane, if back then we had a GoPro I would have worn it. But since they had yet to be invented, it lives in my head as an incredible memory. One that I will not do again—-I am not sure my equilibrium could handle it.

The photo above was taken several years ago. I had always wanted to photograph skiers in flight. We were at a ski resort that was having a horrible season. They set up a ski jump and I politely “begged” to be place myself by the edge of the jump and the large landing pad that the skiers would land on. It was amazing. So, I still can’t fly, and I still won’t go on an open cockpit bi-plane, but that afternoon I felt 100% free.

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Booksmart.

2021-03-15T19:59:00.001-07:00

“The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts, and figures

And instructions for dancing.”

When I was a kid, going to the library was a treat. Our library was a distance away, but of what I remember, we would go find some books, take out our paper card and then the librarian would stamp a sheet in the book—we would then be on our way. What I don’t remember was how they knew who they were loaning the book to ?

While we were there, we would go look at the fish tank which was near the front; I think it just made sense to have something so serene in a quiet place. Of what I recall, some of my favorite books were the Hardy Boys and anything about airplanes—-I don’t know what happen to my passion for reading, but I read very little today. It’s too bad because when you get hooked into a good book, you visit a world between the covers that takes you far away from your every day.

Another way of going to the library was having it come to you. The bookmobile would travel to a specific spot and we would go and check out and return books; you would climb up a few steps, walk inside, and smell the musty scent of books every step you took.

This is a true story, but to protect the individual I won’t say who it is. I found a book in my parents house that was checked out in 1972. As of 2015, it was slightly overdue. Thanks to a calculator and the internet, I was able to calculate that the book was 15,779 days overdue. If they charge a dime for every day it’s late, that book had a fine of $1,577.90. I am pretty sure that would be more than it’s worth.

The photo above was taken a few weeks ago. Todd Bol from Hudson, Wisconsin created the “Little Free Library” a wooden container placed on a post and filled with books; it was a tribute to his late mother, a book lover and school teacher who had passed away. In our village, you will find at least 25 of these “libraries” available to anyone who would like a book. We’ve come quite a ways from the early days from checking out a book—-I wonder what would happen if that book, which is 49 years, 2 months and 14 days overdue found it’s tardy card holder?

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