This is my sister Patti's dog, Casper Addison. His nick-name is "Fat Boy." He gets so happy when you give him attention that he wiggles in circles and whines with happiness. He is so fat that he has a fat nodule on one side of his stomach. One day his fat nodule might grow four legs and a head and become another dog altogether. For Christmas my sister got him a plush chew toy that makes Kung Fu sounds when you squeeze it.
Christmas is great for bringing back memories. Maybe this is the real reason we create and hold traditions. My great-niece Michelle got a four-wheeler from my sister (her grandma) today for Christmas. It reminded me of my fifth or sixth Christmas when my dad got me a three-wheeler. I remember finding a map on the tree Christmas night. That map was a clue that led to another and another until we ended up in the barn, my three-wheeler was hidden inside of a hollow stack of hay bales. I also remember being disappointed with my father's gifts on later Christmases. I might regret my disappointment now if I thought it made a difference.
Taira, my niece took me to karaoke on Christmas Eve. When we stopped at the gas station I wondered if the burnt out light was a bad omen.
When we got to the bar called Fox Crossing and joined in the merriment I knew this was a great place to be on Christmas Eve.
Before I left DC for my short Christmas vacation to see my family in Florida everyone was saying how lucky I was to get away from the cold and snow of the District. I told them that Florida itself was having record low temperatures. Today I went shopping with my niece. I wore a short-sleeved shirt in the temperate rain. Yesterday my mom told me to put a jacket on and it was in the 60s.
Me, my mom, my sister-in-law, and my nephew all went to the barber today. For my nephew who is nearly 2, it was his first haircut. It was my first trip to the barber in approximately 3 years, maybe more. (I usually just buzz it off myself.)
Here we are in the reflection of the skylight at Orlando International Airport. By "we" I mean me, one of my sisters, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my nephew. We are one of the dysfunctional families that both legend and movies are based on.
Monday was the last day of the semester. Adam was out in the school's parking lot carving through a decent-sized tree trunk with an electric chainsaw. It's the first step in shaping before he goes at it with chisels. Even though classes have stopped, for serious artists the work doesn't.
I went out to walk around tonight during the first snow of the DC Winter. Me and my friend Don stopped into CVS in the middle of the flurry. The security camera allows you to greet yourself on the way in. If WalMart catches on to self-hosting there will be a lot of old people out of a job.
I took this photo in January 2000 in the Mojave Desert during a large training exercise I participated in and covered called the Combined-Arms Exercise or "CAX." This photo (which has to be the coolest self-portrait I have ever taken) had recently been hanging in my bathroom behind the toilet. Yesterday I decided to stay home and clean up some old stuff, so my photo choices consisted of this or a pan of fried rice.
I was already on my way to comatose when the Swing's Christmas party started. It seemed like I did something out of order that made me uncomfortable the entire night. By "out of order" I'm not referring to hurt feelings or belligerence; I'm talking about drinking 4 eggnogs after several rum and Cokes. Enough second-hand smoke materialized in my lungs to give a giraffe a sore throat. After several performances by Frank, Swing's electrician/magician, I made a fan out of a fork and a Styrofoam plate. Someone called me Cleopatra because of it. Instead of acting out (with at least violent words) against the remark, I was too tired to care. The atmosphere was perfect at the Xchange Saloon. My final drowsy moments (before staggering through the crowd and out the door) were submerged in a Charles Dickens underworld. I believe this illusion was created by both Frank the Magician and the eggnog.
This is my own variation of the first photograph which was a heliograph by Nicephore Niepce made in 1827, and entitled "View from his Window at Le Gras." I am doing some last minute studying for a History of Photography Final Exam I have this morning.
