after the fremont thing

My wife, Linda, occasionally reminds me that in a blog, entitled "orange chair pictures", I hardly ever include any "pictures". I agree.

Even though I no longer earn my living by taking photographs, I confess that almost every night I dream that I am still out roaming with my camera bag, making snaps, meeting new faces.

Unlike my old, veteran and behemoth shoulder-lug, in the bag I carry now are nondescript items much closer to means of personal, rather than professional, survival. There is my wallet, a flashlight, extra batteries, Pepto-Bismal, prescription reading glasses and a variety of items that let me lead an orderly life. Lately, this includes a notebook, several pens, a few unnamed meds and two or three unpaid bills, just to help me keep track. Most importantly in there, however, I still pack a camera, although it is not very high-falootin' by today's standards. But it is reliable, and gets the job done in a fashion I find predictable and pleasing.

Today, spending a few hours with Linda at her Fremont flea market thing, I managed to record a good image or two, most notably of Frank, our friend and a premier junker. The two photos you see are my favorites of the day. One is plucked from a pile of abanonded old photos showing a young woman - whose name I shall never know - young, beautiful and sporting a new gown on her front lawn, obviously for a pageant or prom. Love that picture.

The other is our good friend Frank, also a beauty. I adore this photograph as well - far more, really - for the trust it took to take, and that it speaks of everything about my own self that I lack the honesty to tell you.

So here are photographs, just my same my orange pictures really, although somewhat more tightly cropped.

Thanks Frank.