Margie and I drop in to Metro Cafe - she drives on to Anchorage, I walk home; boy takes precarious seat overlooking the temple and the sea
Tuesday, January 25, 2011 at 12:02PM 
Jacob and Lavina had something to do Monday night, so they called and asked if Margie could come in to babysit and stay for the night.
This meant that I would be without a car. So we agreed that Margie and I would leave together at coffee break time, we would stop at Metro Cafe, go inside, enjoy a cup and cinnamon roll together and then she would drive on to Anchorage and I would walk back home.
So here is Elizabeth, seen not through the window from the outside, but from the inside, preparing our coffees.
And here is Elizabeth serving one of those coffees. As you can tell by the punch card lying on the counter, the coffees this day still came courtesy of the generous reader in North Carolina. Even with a card, I still lay down cash for the tip.
In past posts, I have lamented about the ironic fact that when we were young and she possessed all of her exceptionally exquisite youthful, beauty, Margie would almost always refuse to let me photograph her. Most of the exceptions involved the kids also being in the picture.
As I have pointed out, Now that we have grandkids, she has somewhat relaxed about it - especially if the grandkids are in the pictures. No grandkids were with us at Metro, but she did tolerate a photo. As you can see, "tolerate" is the exact right word.
And then my eye got distracted and my lens pulled away from her beautiful face by this four-wheeling guy and his dog, as they whizzed by. The dog is kind of hard to see, but if you look close, maybe you can find it. If you can't see it here and it is important enough to you, you can try again in slide show view.
It's really not all that important and I won't feel bad if you don't.
Inside the Metro Cafe, Carmen study, #13,496: Carmen poses with Margie and me
Were I to take the most direct route home, I would need to walk about two-and-half miles. That route follows two busy roads - Lucille and Seldon streets. I did not want to walk along busy roads al the way home. I wanted solitude. So I chose a route that would add about one mile, but in which I could find more solitude.
Even that route started out on a busy road, Spruce Street, which is where I walk right here.
Two ravens flew over as I walked down Spruce Street.
In 2002 or 2003, not long after I had made the leap from film to digital cameras, I managed to purchase a bulky, professional, Canon 1D camera body that shot an 11 mp image - the highest resolution available at the time - for just under $8,000. Funny - that I could manage such a purchase then, but now that I am more established and better known than ever, it would be impossible.
One morning, as I waited for my next flight during a stopover in Boise, Idaho, a gentleman who was then about the age I am now took note of my camera. He was impressed, his face full of smiles.
"I'll bet that digital photography is great for you," he gushed. "You can make your pictures better than ever - like, if you take a picture and there are powerlines in it, you can take them out."
"I wouldn't do that," I answered. "If there are powerlines there, they are there. They are part of the scene. I won't take them out. That would be a violation of my journalistic ethics."
This really angered and offended him. He became so indignant that his face turned red and his nose damn near popped off. His voice turned sharp, rasp and sputtery.
I tried to tell him that it did not matter to me what he did with his, that I did not apply my ethics to him, but that I was a photojournalist and a documentarian and that it would undermine my credibility if I started removing powerlines, just because I could. If I were doing ads or a different kind of art that is not documentary, an art in which the literal does not matter, then what the hell, it would be okay.
He did not buy this. He felt personally insulted and let me know it.
I imagine that he probably has a digital camera now - assuming that he still lives and is healthy enough to take pictures.
Perhaps he now takes the powerlines out of his pictures. If so, I'll bet that each time he does, he thinks of me and gets to feeling all indignant all over again.
But really, I do not care what he or anyone else does. I will not judge them for it.
As for me, the powerlines are simply just part of the picture.
Life has powerlines.
I continued on. A jet passed in the distance. I got a call from a friend, in tears, to tell me that her aunt had just died. I spoke what words of comfort to her that I could.
I walked on in solitude. As darkness slowly deepened, I passed beneath a street lamp and it cast my shadow before me. If it appears that there is a spirit accompanying me, then I must note that it is only a scuff on the trail left by someone who gunned their snowmachine right here and spun the track as they drove over this spot.
Yet, this does not mean that a spirit could not have been walking with me, or perhaps gliding along beside me. If the thought should frighten anyone, let me assure you, that spirit would have been a good one. Troubled, perhaps, but good. Simply, fundamentally, purely - good.
I don't know about spirits - if they truly exist or if they are just a creation of the human mind, a fiction, a survival mechanism to help us bear that which does not seem to be bearable. Yet, if spirits do not exist, then why do I so often seem to feel a spiritual presence? In something so simple, perhaps, as a sudden, unexpected, solitary, gust of wind in my face, at just the right moment?
And this one from India
A youth took a somewhat precarious seat overlooking the Mamallapuram temple grounds and the Bay of Bengal and then asked me to take his picture.
So I did.
Reader Comments (7)
i so hope that there are spirits and that sometimes they walk with us
Bill,
I think Margie is very beautiful.. She is amazing eyes. Then and now! Mysterious.. !
You know I really agree with you about power lines. I don't know if they have these in Mat-Su.. but here when you get on the hilltops you can see where they have carved out the little tiniest section of the woods to string the power lines.. It's kinda pretty how it lines the hills down to the bottom....
I wouldn't take them out either..
Hope you are well!
Margie is so beautiful!!
Jees. That last picture made me a little sickish, just to look at it. I am afraid of heights. And Margie is beautiful.
haunting foto of bill in blue w/ponytail. i loved the powerlines foto. it was so loooong. or is it longggg. also, i'm glad you didn't fotograf the cinnamon bun cuz it's that time of evening - 10:41 - that i wanna go down and snack. just finished watching obama's speech. i'm not mad at him anymore.
Thank you for sharing the powerlines photo. You'd be amazed at the fun I had with it - scrolling it all the way up, then all the way down, then up, then down again. Over and over, measuring the distance between the wires, playing with negative shapes between the wires, imagining the tail of a Mojave desert roadrunner... oh, if anyone had seen me doing this, they would have labeled me crazy! Bill, your photographs are most inspirational!
Twain - agreed.
Rocksee, Betsy, Debby - yes, she is beautiful.
Ruth - I'm glad you are not mad anymore. Let us see what the next two years bring.
Heidi - I never would have imagined such a thing. Thank you!