Cocoon mode* - day 10: I see a babe in the Metro Cafe; I feel frustrated; lament for Mary

I am frustrated now. I took a series of photos this morning from my bicycle and another series this evening, of Kalib, and I would like to post both series in their entirety.

But I haven't the time. I am in Cocoon mode. Furthermore, I am exhausted.

So this one of this very cute baby who did not wave back at me will have to do. I am at the drive-through to the Metro Cafe, where I have just ordered two coffees, one for me and one for Margie, who stayed home.

It will still be hot when I deliver it to her.

Carmen tells me that the local classic car club will be coming to her grand opening Saturday, noon till 2:00, Lucille Street, just south of Spruce. So there should be some neat cars there.

Too bad Melanie and Charlie have gone to Portland. Charlie could bring his Oldsmobile Starfire and we could go in that, spill coffee on the upholstery and then dab it up with cinnamon rolls. Then we could eat the cinnamon rolls and reminisce about the good old days, when people drove about in Oldsmobile Starfires, dipping their donuts into their coffee as they listened to Peter, Paul, and Mary sing about little boys and dragons, flowers that go with soldiers to the graveyard, and jet planes that take you away even though you hate to go.

And now Mary is dead.

It just doesn't feel quite right. But then it never does, even though that is how it always goes. 

*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.

Cocoon mode* - day 9: Three more pix from the car: little kid morphs into cop, then insurance salesman; bike jump; Iona Grotto - I get my tail kicked by a lady at the New York Times

Every morning before I go to bed, there are a few blogs that I must check out. At the top of the list is, Lens, the photojournalism blog of the New York Times, and I have mentioned it before. This morning when I opened it up, I damn near died. It featured a photo story titled "Essay, Motor Drive," by Monica Almeida, a talented photographer who relocated to Los Angeles from New York City, but still shoots pictures that wind up in the New York Times.

The essay was comprised of 16 pictures that she took from her car. It was presented as a visionary leap of sorts, the transfer of street shooting skills from the sidewalk to the vehicle.

And of course I have been doing the same thing for years and years and if I could select 16 of my best shot-from-the-car images and put them before a national audience... well, I know this sounds arrogant, but I guarantee you, that audience would see something that would go even beyond what was presented today in Lens.

And now, if I ever get the chance, everyone will think that I am just a copy cat.

Oh well. Monica did it. I didn't, and that's that.

Congratulations, Monica.

Speaking of which, all three of today's pictures are from the car.

This one as I wait in the drive-through to Metro Cafe.

The young man to the left is Dave Eller, who I pretty much got to watch grow up as he was a classmate of Jacob's. Dave grew up to be a cop and I was always worried that one day he would pull me over for speeding or something, but really, I don't speed much and he never did.

In fact, I got my last speeding ticket close to 25 years ago, when Dave was still a kid.

This past year, he left the full-time police and joined the police reserves. I believe that he is an insurance salesman now, or works with insurance companies in some capacity.

This belief is born out by the fact that his camera-shy companion hides his face behind an Insurance brochure from Hartford.

As for the Metro Cafe grand opening Saturday, from noon 'til two, I failed to note the location: Lucille Street, just south of Spruce. 

And here I am, driving by the skateboard park. One commenter on Lens expressed his horror, charging that the practice of drive by shooting is more dangerous then driving and texting.

I suppose it could be, but not the way I do it. It is not anywhere near as much a distraction as talking on a cell phone. When I drive by shoot, I do not take my eyes and concentration off the road ahead for even as long as does every driver who turns his head to look over her shoulder at the traffic behind him. 

When I see something that looks like it might make a good picture, I lift the camera, point like a gunslinger shooting from the hip without ever bringing it to my eye, shoot, and put it back down again.

Usually, when I shoot, I am not even looking at the subject. I have already got a glance of it, just as anybody driving past at that moment would have, and a glance is all I need to know that it is there.

I have a very good sense of where a camera is pointing even without looking through the viewfinder, although it is a fact that sometimes I miss the subject completely.

In this case, the subject was beyond the practical reach of my pocket camera, so this is a significant crop.

Shortly afterward, I passed by Iona Grotto. Remember how, on that day that I pedaled my bike past the bare-breasted young woman and wound up on my knees in front of a grave here, I gave myself an assignment to learn more about the husband and wife buried within? Paul and Iona Mahoney.

Yesterday, an airplane mechanic by the name of Ray Cross called me on behalf of Paulie Mahoney, the daughter of that couple, who asked him to give me her phone number. I called her today. She was very happy, glad that I am interested and promised to help me piece that story together, once I get my big project out of the way.

So, even though I have not done a very good job of it so far, please stay with me. I will yet find the soul of Wasilla, as I promised I would when I began this blog, one year and nine days ago.

And even as I do, I will keep searching for the soul of the larger Alaska. And, in this cocoon mode period, some ideas have come to me on how I might do that.

Speaking of Cocoon mode, I have gone over my time limit by about 15 minutes. Damnit! I so lack discipline!

*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.

Cocoon mode* - day 8: Cat parties with goats where the chicken crossed the road and the rooster got shot; Metro Cafe to hold grand opening Saturday

Do you remember the dog that nearly killed the rabbit (despite the denials, I wonder if maybe he did kill that rabbit, because that rabbit sure looked dead to me and I have never seen it since) at the house on the corner where the chicken crossed the road and the rooster got shot?

This morning, as I passed by the same place, I saw this beautiful white cat sitting atop the deck fence, visiting with the two deck goats.

Until today, I never knew about this cat.

It does not matter how long I live and how educated I become, I find that, everyday, I stumble upon something new to learn.

Here I am, on my afternoon coffee break, sitting in my Ford Escape at the drive-through window to the Metro Cafe, which, as you can see, seems to be quite busy these days.

I hope it stays that way, because I am pulling for this little coffee house, built where the dog wash used to be, with cute cars and vans all around.

I am pulling for it because their coffee is ALWAYS good, whereas, at the kiosks that I have traditionally visited, some days the coffee is very good and some days, at the very same place, well... I should say, though, that at even at these places there are certain baristas who always make good coffee, if you show up when they are working.

Plus Carmen, the owner, she always chats and wonders how things are and where is Margie, or, oh, good, Margie has come today and look at your little grandson! Hey! He can't drink coffee! He's so cute!

And this Saturday, they are going to have their grand opening, from noon until 2:00 PM. The mayor is going to come by at 1:00 and cut a ribbon.

So all you readers from far away places like New York City, Israel, Dubai, Nigeria and of course Bangalore and Chennai, go get on a plane right now and head for Anchorage. Call me, and I will pick you up and take you to the grand opening.

You who live here, you can just drive. Or walk. Or ride a bike. You could even skate in.

I'll bet some will.

*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.

Cocoon mode* - day 4: The firewood twins, bike at the Little Su, an old van at Metro Cafe

This was actually yesterday, when I came home from my coffee break and found these two identical guys throwing split birch into our yard. It was a big surprise to me because I had not yet ordered any and I was wondering how, at $200 a cord, I was going to pay for it.

Turned out Jacob, Lavina, Caleb, and Melanie bought four cords for us. It usually takes about five - six cords to get us through the winter, but since this is going to be an El Niño winter, and the north is growing warmer, anyway, maybe four will do it.

We used to gather all of our own wood and saw it up and split it. It was great fun, but those days are gone. I had told myself that this year I would get all of our wood in June, but I didn't.

Before I got to work today, I took my bike out for a ride. I went down to the Little Su the long way, about five or six miles. I wanted to try to pedal across the Little Su through a shallow stretch, but I have never succeeded in the past and I did not want to soak my shoes, so this is as far as I went.

Margie, Lavina and Kalib all accompanied me on my coffee break. We went through the drive through at the new Metro Cafe. That is Carmen, the owner, waving. Remember the cute car and van?

Just today, this old van showed up, too. They bought it somewhere down in the Lower 48. They plan to fix it up nice, like the others. They plan to park a fleet of such vehicles.

*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.

We celebrate Margie's birthday and then wind up in the ditch

The knock on the wall caused me to leave my computer and go into the house for the party, but I was surprised to find that not everybody was present. The food was ready, but people were still here and there. 

Charlie and Melanie, for example, were out in the back yard. I was a little distressed to see Charlie sitting in that chair, because last week, I saw Muzzy lift his leg and pee on it.

It rained after that, so hopefully it was okay.

Kalib peeks out to check on Charlie, Melanie and me.

I go back in and close the screen door. Kalib wants back in.

It was an Apache-Navajo kind of meal, with frybread and beans. I made mine into a classic Navajo/Apache taco, with the beans, onions, salsa, quacamole, tomotoes, peppers, grated cheddar cheese and sour cream folded into the fry bread.

I meant to photograph it so that you could see, but I got so busy eating it that I forgot.

Lavina helps Kalib draw a little heart on his grandmother's birthday card. This is what I wrote: "September 5, 1949, was the best day of my life even though I was not yet conceived..." followed by some stuff about love.

There was one piece of frybread left, so I had Margie pose with it, just so you can see what it looks. After that, I ate half of it and Charlie ate the other half.

 I stepped out for a little bit and when I stepped back in, I was surprised to see Steffers sitting there, eating an Apache/Navajo taco. Lavina must have cooked some more frybread up, so I shot this picture. Steffers, who is Iñupiat, was on her way to a Rodney Atkins concert at the Fair, but she is competing with her sister for Kalib's love, so she stopped by to see him first - and to wish Margie a happy birthday as well as congratulate Jacob for being commissioned into the Commission Corp.

Margie prepares to blow out her candle. Not only is she actually older than one, there isn't even a "1" in her age. But there was only one candle in the house and it was "1."

Margie reads her card. She was pleased.

Margie opens a present from her kids, all of whom were here except for Rex and Stephanie. Rex works seven days a week, usually, and long hours, too. We sorely missed the two of them, but Margie was pleased with the gift.

Jacob hands her the first serving of cake and ice cream.

After we ate our cake and ice cream, some of us wanted coffee. It was evening, now, just after 7:00, but Charlie, Melanie, Lisa and I went out and bought some at Little Miller's on the Park's anyway. When we returned home, more guests had arrived and there was no empty space into the driveway. So I began to pull into the ditch.

"Dad!" Melanie scolded. "What are you doing? Don't drive into the ditch! Dad! Dad! Don't do it, Dad!"

But I did. We all got out. Everything was fine.

"That's so Wasilla!" Melanie said.