O.K. It is an obvious, cheap shot, but it has been sitting in my files waiting for a long time, and I want to get rid of it. Now it is yours. Some things are too hard to pass up.
I began getting ready for my trip to L.A. last night. . . a little. I went through my camera inventory deciding what to take. I wanted to take my Canon. It makes great beautiful pictures, but holy smokes is it big. I haven't really used it since I closed the studio. It and a few lenses fill a suitcase. After using the Leicas and the Sony, it is impossible to decide to take it. I can pack the Sony and four lenses in a little bag. Same is true of the Leicas. They will be going with me as well as my Rolleiflex. I think. We'll see. But I won't be taking the Canon. It is a shame, though. I shot most of my NYC pictures with that and a big zoom lens. Huge.
Getting ready for a trip always depresses me. I don't do well with decision making. I think mostly about how the trip can fail. I've already made a mistake in booking my flight. I need one more day, and it was really doable, but I'll live with the bad decision now. The important thing is that I get on a plane and go. I am a mopey sonofabitch, and I need to move. The end of my working days gets closer at a seemingly faster rate, and I need to get my head put on straight. I am like a punch drunk fighter, muzzy minded, indecisive, terrified. I like to play the tough guy, but I'm the biggest baby you could ever meet.
Even when I was a kid, I'd always get sick before big vacations. Emotions overwhelmed me. I worried about everything. I thought out every possibility of what could go wrong. I wanted a perfect vacation and there were so many variables it seemed impossible that things would turn out right.
I am still that way. I am wound too tight.
On the phone with my mother after work last night, I said I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my evening. She jumped all over that and said I could always come over and hang out with her. What could I say? I went to her house and made dinner. I am sweet.
I realize that much of what burdens me about traveling now is vanity. With travel there was always the possibility of romance. The two went hand in hand. I wasn't looking for it, but it was always there. Now I can hardly stand to look a woman in the eye knowing that what they see is the same thing I see every morning in the mirror. It is not comforting. Maybe that was what got Bourdain. The mirror. And knowing Argento was out there wooing young boys. If only I could take solace from Ecclesiastes. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity and chasing after the wind. One generation comes and one generation goes, but the earth abides forever. Etc.
But I can't condone it. It is a bad plan.
Still, it is time for the gym. I have to make an effort even if it is a losing battle. And it is.
Yup. It is.