Kalib jumps up and down; a flight of fancy about the Yankees and the Cubs

I had taken Margie out to eat at Taco Bell and when we came home and turned into the driveway, we saw a strange sight through the front room window: the silhouette of Jacob as he jumped up and down.

We entered the house and saw that what he had been doing was mimicking Kalib, for Kalib had learned to jump. Now, he was busy honing his new skill.

This was really not a situation for the pocket camera, but rather the EOS 1Ds M III, but the pocket camera was in my pocket and the Ds III was not.

I thought about running into my office to grab it, but if you want to photograph a toddler jumping, you had better do it while he is jumping, which he might not be after you run to your office to get another camera.

And anyway, sometimes I just find it fun to see what I can get with the pocket camera when the situation is all wrong for it. Canon has just released two new pocket cameras - the G11 and the s90, both of which are supposed to be greatly improved in low light.

So when I get that check I mentioned last night, I am going to be really tempted to buy one. While I would not use a pocket camera when I am doing paid-for work, I love the pocket camera. Yes, when I use it I miss the super wide-angle, the big telephotos and the motor drive, but there is something that is just plain fun about using a camera with a limited lens and that you can only get a shot off every couple of seconds.

It adds challenge, I guess.

But really, Billy? For Kalib's first big jumping episode?

He shows off for his grandma, who is very pleased.

He observes as his dad demonstrates the possibilities.

Of course, I had to tell the world. So I got into the car and drove straight back to Taco Bell, got in line and soon saw this New York Yankee fan in my rear view mirror. I had no idea who he was but when I saw him pull out his cell phone I quickly punched the button on mine labeled "cell phone nearest to you" and sure enough, I got him before he could even make his call.

"Hello?" he answered, puzzled.

"Kalib jumped today," I said.

"Who the hell is Kalib?" he asked. "And who the hell are you and how the hell did you get my number?"

So I told him I was driving the red Escape that was waiting in line for tacos right in front of him and that Kalib was my grandson.

"Oh," he said. "I never would have guessed. You look too young to be a grandfather. I thought maybe you were 31. Well, congratulations then. Hey! Did you see how the Yankees cleaned up on the LA Angels of Anaheim? I think they're going to the series, I think they're going all the way. You think?"

"When I was a kid, I was a big fan of Mickey Mantle," I answered. "I wanted to go all the way, but it didn't happen. My parents kept dragging me off to church. That's why."

"Oh," he said. "I guess you really must be a grandpa, then. And what do you mean? The Yanks went all the way with Mantle! Seven times! It didn't matter if you were in church or not! The Yankees still won! God always watches over the Yankees."

"Well, I'm a Cubs fan now," I said, "and they never go all the way." He hung up.

LA Angels of Anaheim?

I called this lady and told her, too. She was so ecstatic that she began to hop around like a rabbit. I tried to photograph her hopping, but the pocket camera can be a little slow and so this is how I wound up catching her - right between hops.

I pedal my bike to Taco Bell and back; along the way, I see many amazing sights, including a polar bear that passed by

I got up this morning, went online, checked my bank balance and saw that it was $79.85. So I decided that I might as well go to Taco Bell for lunch. Lavina had driven off to Anchorage in the red Escape to get an ultrasound of our new grandchild. Margie and Kalib went with her. I needed exercise, so I pedaled my bike the four-and-a-half miles to Taco Bell.

Along the way, near the west edge of Wasilla Lake, I saw this guy carrying the front wheel of a bike. He studied me with great suspicion. "Hello," I said. He said nothing. So much for The Brotherhood of the Bikers.

I should get a check next week. Hopefully early.

My whole career has been like this. I would not advise anybody to be a freelance photographer/writer, unless you have no choice, like me, because that is just what you are and nothing can be done about it.

In that case, I hope you have more business sense than I do. I have been in business for myself for over a quarter of a century and I haven't learned a damn thing about business.

I wonder how it is that I have lasted so long? Raised a family? Supported how many cats, how many dogs, how many schools of tropical fish? Most freelance photographers don't last long at all and those who do tend to have business sense that I lack and a willingness to do work of a nature that I won't do for any fee - if you try to hire me to do that kind work my mind goes foggy and I freeze up inside.

It's not because I lack the talent.

It's something else, something that I feel, and I can't get past it.

And now I ride around on a bicycle, shooting blurry, pocket-camera pictures and I put them in a blog that costs me $8.00 a month to maintain and grosses me not one cent, distracts me from tasks that could put money in my pocket, and all the time I somehow think that prosperity will yet come to me.

Someday, perhaps soon, the realities that I have managed to avoid for nearly three decades will explode upon me and wipe me out. That would be okay, if I could find a warm place with power and internet where I could sit down, put my books together, and blog.

I don't think Margie would be very happy about it, though. She's been through a great deal, to stand by her ever dreaming, roving, restless, husband who does not know how to make money. She's done it without complaint. She does not deserve to go through something like that, too.

Otherwise, I don't think I would care at all, as long as I could work on my books, do my blog and find a few dollars to go to Taco Bell, now and then.

But here's the thing: at all points in my career, whenever it has appeared that I am absolutely done for, something has materialized to keep me going - and it has always been something that I like to do. I have taken some enormous risks, but something has always happened.

Will I be saved once again? We will see.

Isn' this ridiculous? Just awhile ago, these mountains were bright, white, and snowy and they were supposed to do nothing but get snowier and snowier and stay that way into next summer. When we first moved up here, national cross country ski teams would come up from the Lower 48 every October to train at Hatcher Pass, because, they said, it was the one cross country ski area in the country where good, deep, snow was assured this time of year.

But look at it!!!

This, by the way, is the view from the seat of my bicycle as I pedal past Wasilla Lake. If it looks to you like the picture was taken near sundown, no, this is what noon-hour light looks like around here this time of year. This "sunset at noon" look will intensify over the next couple of months.

And here I am, pedaling into Taco Bell.

Two of the strangers with whom I ate lunch.

Just as this worker stepped out for a smoke break, I climbed onto my bike and began to pedal away. "Wow!" she exclaimed, "this shopping cart sure traveled far!" Target is maybe 200 yards from Taco Bell.

Many amazing things happen in this town.

As I pedaled past McDonald's, I was pretty impressed to read the sign and learn that "the world's best crew works here." 

There are hundreds of millions of crews on this earth, perhaps even a billion or more. Why would the best one in the world choose to work at McDonald's?

I did not even stop at the Post Office, but kept going. This guy stepped in front of me as I pedaled toward the corner. If we had collided, it would have been okay, because we could have went straight in to see the chiropractor.

Sometimes, you see an excellent photo in front of you, but you just can't get it, no matter how hard you try. This is an example. I had just turned off Wasilla's Main Street, which is not at all what a certain rouge-clad rogue has cracked it up to be, and was pedaling toward Lucille Street when suddenly I became aware that a polar bear had just rolled by me. Yes - a polar bear that had once roamed the Arctic ice but was now stuffed and lying in a pallet on a flat wagon towed by a pickup truck.

I had put my pocket camera back into my pocket and by the time I could pull it out again, the polar bear had gone too far past for me to get any kind of picture. Even though I knew I could not catch the truck, I began to pedal my bike as fast as I could. Way up ahead, the light turned red. The pickup truck stopped. There was so much distance between us that I knew that I could not get to it before the light turned green again, but if a polar bear can roll past you, something else might happen to delay its progress, so I pedaled like I was Lance Armstrong.

As the distance between me and the polar bear closed, I began to think that I had a chance - but then, while I was still out of range for a good picture, the light turned green. The truck took off. Knowing it was hopeless but determined to try anyway, I raised my camera and, still pedaling as hard as I could, shot this frame. Then the polar bear was gone. If you know what you are looking for, you can bearly make it out, wrapped in the orange pad.

I could have made such a good picture, if only that light had stayed red for 15 more seconds. Even 10. I think with even just five more seconds, I could have got something.

As I neared home, I passed this guy jogging with his dog. "Now you decide to run!" he shouted at the dog, immediately after I shot this frame with my pocket camera.

Later, Margie got home and picked me up for coffee. It was nice to have her drive - nice that she could drive. We passed this lady and this little boy. If I had saw them sooner, I would have rolled the window down, but we came up over a rise and I had to turn on my pocket camera and work fast, just to get a chance to shoot one frame through the window as Margie shot past. I decided to go for impressionism.

It was extremely difficult, and it wasn't a polar bear, but I did it.

And if I had been driving, it was one of those situations where I would have just sighed, because there would have been no way I could have got the image.

Sometimes, I wish Margie would drive all the time, so that I could concentrate on taking pictures. But she seldom wants to.

I expect to win a Pulitzer for this picture.

I don't see why not. It is the best picture anybody has ever taken on this earth, in this spot, at this time and I'm the one who did it.

When we got home, Lavina and Kalib were about to leave on a walk.

As for cocoon mode, I am just giving up.

I will still try to restrain myself a bit, to limit my blogging time a little more than I did tonight, to do enough just to hold the cyberspace until the day comes that I can really go at this blog the way I want to - but I give up on cocoon mode.

CM*D33: Margie returns to the scene of her injury; Rex and his sailboat, Willow the dog, Alaska Dispatch and potential young citizen journalist

Margie had a therapy session scheduled at the Alaska Native Medical Center in Anchorage today, so I drove her in, dropped her off and then headed straight over to the Merrill Field offices of the Alaska Dispatch to chat with the editor, Tony Hopfinger. 

I then rushed back to pick her up, after which I took her to lunch at Cafe Europa and then to a movie at Century 16. During my stays at home, we used to go to a movie almost every single week, but it has been a long, long, long time since we have.

I did a search in this blog and the most recent movie I came up with was one we saw February 25 - and that was our first outing after she originally broke her left knee and right wrist on January 20.

We have been out since she broke her knee for the second time on July 26, but not to a movie - just here and there to get a bite to eat, a cup of coffee or an ice cream come.

I fell asleep in the movie about five times. Not because it was boring; it wasn't - it was fun: The Informant. There are some gaps in the story for me, but the thrust of it all came together.

The fact that I could fall asleep five times during what may have been my first movie outing in eight months kind of gives me a clue as to why I am having such a struggle completing my project.

Afterwards, we returned to the place where she fell on July 26 - which is now owned by our daughter Melanie. Her fall happened right after she stepped through the door to her left. Later, as we were leaving, I was going to take a picture of her atop that step. I got it framed and everything, but when I pushed the shutter, the battery died. I got no picture.

A couple of nights ago, I wrote about the dog that was given to me by the Norwegian Iditarod musher, Ketil Reitan. I told how I put her in the back seat of my airplane and flew her home from Kaktovik on the Arctic Coast at the top of ANWR - the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. 

I mentioned that she is now buried in our backyard, along with some other individuals dear to us who wore fur all the time.

In comments, a reader let me know that I had slipped up and had not named her.

Well, this is she, Willow. I took the picture in the spring of 2005, right after she found a chunk of bone that I believe to be moose. She was very pleased.

Rex felt real bad after her death, so I made this print for him.

By the way - seasoned readers are familiar with my lament about Serendipity, the subdivision that robbed me of the woods that I used to roam - and so often with Willow.

This picture was taken in those woods, which died right along with the dog.

And on the fridge were these pictures of Kalib, Rex and his Grandpa Hess, my late dad. Two years ago, right about now, my Muse, Soundarya, wanted to know about my dad and asked me write up some stories about him and email them to her in India. So I did.

This past summer, when I was in Barrow, she emailed and instructed me to put those stories on my blog. She felt that readers would enjoy them. I promised her that I would. Sooner or later, probably during our next trip to Utah and Arizona, I will, and I will introduce the whole family, mine and Margie's. Time and money permitting, I want to go to the Navajo Nation and introduce Lavina's as well.

The very first image that I posted on this blog was of the tiny sailboat that Rex had made. He is now making a bigger sailboat and this is it. There is a much larger story here, but I cannot get into it just now.

As you can see, this bout of unusually warm fall weather is continuing. It got well into the 50's today. It feels like we live someplace else, but we live here.

Meanwhile, I see more reports of snow at various places in the Lower 48. This is very embarrassing.

Now I will back up to earlier in the day. I mentioned that I stopped at the Alaska Dispatch to visit the editor. I completely forgot to take any pictures while I was there. I don't know why, I guess because we had a fast-paced conversation and when it was over, I had to race off to pick Margie up.

I forgot even though Alice Rogoff's big Cessna 206 on floats was sitting in the hangar, and it was the cleanest looking airplane I think that I have ever seen. It filled me with desire and want and still I forgot to take a picture.

Alice, by the way, is the very good woman who helped us out in Washington, DC, after Margie got hurt following the Obama Inaugural. She put us up in her very fine Bethesda guest house and told us to stay until Margie could travel. We did. I do not know how we would have coped without her.

She also bought into the Alaska Dispatch and that is why they have their offices in a hangar at Merrill Field.

Tony and I spent some time talking about how online journalism is changing everything. We talked about the emerging roll of citizen journalists, ordinary people with cameras and cellphones, documenting and reporting on life and getting it out to the world in a new way.

And then I took Margie to lunch and the first person that I saw when I stepped through the door of Cafe Europa was 17 month old Luca, looking very much like a citizen journalist.

His mother said that this was the first time that he had ever held a camera. He was still figuring it out. I told her that if he got something, she should email it to me and I would share it with you.

No promises.

We will see.

The kid's got his own mind. He will do what he will do.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month (obviously, now, more than a month. Perhaps forever, it feels like) Oh, hell! Let's face it - I did not keep myself within cocoon restraints. This does not qualify as a cocoon entry. But I will leave it as one, just the same. It was supposed to be. 

CM*D32: Tiger Kalib and Tiger Caleb

I know, the background is terribly distracting, cluttered. But when you step outside and are surprised to find your grandson being Tiger Kalib, you go with the background that you have, not the one you wish you had. Kalib places the ball.

Kalib pulls back the club for a swing.

Kalib swings! And misses!

He tries again. Boy, does he rap that ball!

Tiger Kalib and Tiger Caleb.

I hope this brings a smile to all you Kalib lovers down in Arizona. I know you can use one, right now.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month (obviously, now, more than a month. Perhaps forever, it feels like).

CM*D31: I go shadow biking, I get a strange look from a solid kid

I was struggling with my project, going nowhere, so I decided to go shadow biking.

OH NO! Head on collision! Damn fool! He should know to watch out for shadows!

But shadows are tough. I continued on.

And on and on and on. But not as on and on as I would have liked. I wanted to go on all day, and then to camp out under the stars at night. But my shadow would have died in the night, so I came back home to wrestle with my project, which has vexed me to a degree that no other project ever has. I don't know why. It just has.

I have placed all my pictures, long ago. Now I sit down to write, but the words just don't come. I can spend two hours and etch out one sentence that I don't like. Then, at the end of the day, I sit down to this blog and words pour out of me and through the keyboard into the computer and out to anywhere in the world that someone happens to log onto this blog, either by intention or accident, as fast as I can move my fingers.

Here is a kid riding with no shadow. I think that he is pretty unhappy about that. And why isn't he wearing a jacket? It is October 13, for hell's sake.

But the warm weather continues. Last year, the snow was piling on now but it was 49 degrees at the moment I snapped the photograph - nothing at all for a kid pedaling a bike up a hill. I can just hear his mom when he gets home, though.

"Billy! What are you doing going outside without a coat? You'll catch your death of pneumonia!"

No, wait. That was my mom, decades ago, when she still breathed, still loved, still smiled, believed in the resurrection and I thought life would always be that way and that I would never die, not of pneumonia or anything else.

I think this boy was very curious about the detached shadow coming down the hill on his shadow bicycle. I am certain he had never before seen such a sight in all his many days.

One day, I suspect, his grandchildren will tire of the story. "Yep, kids, there I was, pedaling up Wards Road in Wasilla, Alaska, when all of a sudden I saw a shadow coming down the hill. Just a shadow - a shadow man, riding a shadow bicycle..."

"Yeah, right, Gramps, we've heard this one before - like 20 billion times."

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.