Visiting California

California - trip started kinda rough, but soon became as easy and playful as fetching a ball.

I was also good, and on my best behavior, being discreet while hiding from the many terrified non-smokers. Quietly, I kept an ongoing prized collection of my own cigarette butts.

Wild perennial coastal Lupines

As a Floridian, a wild coastal plant that I was totally unaware of - at least from what I would ever remember from all my travels. Now, finally noticing them for the first time, and blooming. The Lupinus (or California Lupine) range extends all up-and-down the rugged northern Pacific coast. Came across these fine specimens while staying on the Pacific coastal ridge of Marin County, just northwest of San Francisco.

California - Bella & Lola

Sandy and I just returned from California from our visit with family - Matt, Michele and Wilson, but particularly to see our grand-daughters, Bella & Lola.

Both girls got to choose their new outfits from a quick shopping spree and both had the chance to model the outfits for me and my camera.

family?

There's a young man in my family who just celebrated his birthday. And for now Finnegan is ten years old. Last year, when 'Finn' visited Florida, he and his family stopped by - spent a few days - with visits, outings etc. Finn is a very curious young lad, eager and particular about our family history.

My father and I, had a not so good relationship. Really nothing more than he being stand-offish and always 'reserved' (an old polite term for what-ever it needed to fit). For my part, my father's character never really did shine. He expressed little or no emotion. I have only seen one photo of my father and I together, and that photo was taken in 1954. When I spoke to my sister yesterday, she mentioned that she has another photo, of the two of us, together - but, we are standing apart.

For Finnegan's birthday I was trying to think of something different, something unique to pique his curiosity toward the family. This past year, I sent Finn my father's World War 11 'service' ribbons and one of my father's long cherished keepsakes.

Well, this early photograph came to mind. I've been curious about it all my life. It's been deep-seated within me since childhood. And for Finn, this photo would be of his great-grandfather and grandfather (that would be me). My sister, also mentioned during our phone conversation, that we never even knew of our own "great-grandfather" - or at the least, that of his name.

the light (in the side yard)

Pet dogs

How do they arrive?

Gotta' call from my youngest, Wilson who at the time, was living out in New Mexico.
"Dad, need a big favor - can you vouch for me. I found this great puppy - so 'cute'. But, "we" need to come up with a fictitious 'local' address for the animal shelter to release him to me."

Within six months Wilson was back home in Sarasota for some personal reasons. But, all his belongings, and his truck, and his new pup 'Knuckles' were still out there in Santa Fe - and all with a girlfriend that was living with her parents.

My plan - fly out there, stay with the girlfriend's family for a few days, pack-up the truck and hopefully, get to know the dog. Within three days of arriving, Knuckles and I had hit the road - a long two lane back road.

Highway 82 runs east and west through at least five states. First night heading back east, we slept at a 'truck stop' motel (somewhere) in western Texas. The following day, a speeding ticket in Nocona. Another night in Texarkana in a cheap motel, with "No Pets" posted - and where Knuckles, in the middle of the night, did a loose bowel movement all across the carpet (we split, post-haste before day break). Then, a flat tire in Magnolia, Arkansas. And, after another day in, and for the dog's needed exercise break and a hard run, Knuckles took off through the soy bean / cotton fields of Mississippi. By day three, we found an opportune stop along the side of the road - a posted 'psychic reading' in rural Alabama - and "Pets Welcome." The following day, another photo of my new buddy in front of an old antebellum home in southern Georgia. And finally Florida, where-in now, my good companion posed for me, one more time - with a large T-Rex.

After those five wild days on the road, Knuckles had become my "new" best friend. And then, just thinking about it, during those last few hundred some miles, all I had to do - was somehow,  just explain to my youngest son Wilson, about these good travels and about all our wacky adventures - and that now, I had finally found a new pet dog.

First day on the road - still in New Mexico.

  

Truck Stop motel somewhere in Texas.
 

Outside Nocona after our speeding ticket.

Flat tire fix in Magnolia, Arkansas.

Exercise run through Mississippi.

Antebellum - Georgia.

And finally, at home in the State of Florida.

Motorcycling - (and those old shops)

Went over to Hap's Cycle today - to prep the bike for a three day ride and camp-out next week. Old man 'Hap' started this shop some sixty some years ago and sadly, passed away this year. (Bought my first motorcycle from Hap in 1964 - a Honda 65).

His son Bobbie now runs the service department and obviously grew-up around motorcycles. I believe he currently has eight running bikes. Well, the dealership at (Hap's) has not had a physical upgrade in at least 50 years and Bobbie seems comfortable leaving that all unchanged. He even has his own little space, his own 'workshop', where things seems to be still within his reach. I'm a sucker for this old approach - and for all those things that never change.

On the range

Today, out east doing a piece on cattle ranching. A multi-faceted story about a matriarch and her three daughters running a four generation cattle ranch, out east of Sarasota, just bordering on Myakka State Park.

Well, with the running from the bulls today, I'm beat, sore.  And finally left, crawling home. This might have to be it. I might have to retire from the magazine assignments.  Or at the least, start a work out-regiment - or in a worse case scenario, go back to the hated gym.

Those Brahmans are real tough. They made me run.

Mr. John Chamberlain - CHOICES

Worked for John Chamberlain as an 'in-house photographer' and print maker from the mid 80's to the early 90's - mostly at his Sarasota studio.  Though, there were a few of those crazy times driving Chamberlain around New York City, while he worked out of his East Hampton studio, out on Long Island.

He became a mentor - a trickster - and I learned from John. This faded cover shot of mine was taken at the Sarasota Studio in 1988.  Heidi Connor, his studio manager at the time, referred to this period as, "his happiest years".
 

 

If by chance, you happen to be in NYC on the 23rd of February (or later), visit his grand retrospective titled, "John Chamberlain - Choices", at the Guggenheim Museum.

I'll miss him.  (1927 - 2011)

new beginings

Today - my first page.
My sister and I in a family self-portrait.
Hopefully she's doin' well - and keepin' the spirit.
A long road we all haul.