I woke up with that song in my head this morning, and I'll write it here even though "me and you" drives me crazy. But why was I dreaming that? Hmm.
There is a lesson to be learned from the photograph above. Can you guess it? O.K. There are many you might infer, but the one I am suggesting is ALWAYS keep your camera parallel with your subject unless you want parallel lines to go astray. Sometimes you can't help it, of course, but in this photograph, I could have.
Just helpful tips from a former photographer.
I got the injection of hyaluronic acid gel yesterday morning. It hurt a little, but not much. I could feel the gel pushing in.
"It might take up to a month for you to feel the full effects."
"Damn. I was hoping to go for a run today."
"You can go for a run, but it won't help much. It all depends on how much pain you can tolerate."
"So I have about a 60 to 70 percent chance of this being effective?"
"Well. . . there are different degrees of effectiveness."
Well, shit. This may help a little or a lot. Or it may not help at all. But when I left the office, although my knee was a little sore, I already felt a bit more steam in my strut. I want this to work. I want this to work very, very much.
I will give you a heads up about something, though. If you have a medical problem, don't expect people to care much. It is too hard for them. They can't do anything about it but frown, furrow their brow, and tell you they hope you get better. Then, as quickly as they can, they will think of something else. I wanted to tell everybody I had just gotten my injection, but I knew better. I did tell a few people at the gym who have inquired about my limp. I could see the lack of interest in their eyes. The best I could hope for was, "Did it hurt?"
I grew up with crackers and hillbillies. I was told early, "If you want sympathy, look it up in the dictionary. It is between 'shit' and 'syphilis.'"
Sorry. I just remembered that. You don't get much sympathy whence I came. "Suck it up," they'd say. Or in the immortal words of Frank Gallagher, "Life is going to fuck you. You just have to take it up the ass and soldier on."
Why anal gets the short shrift here, I don't know. There are some gay guys at the gym who don't fit the gymroid's model. I mean, they think of gay guys as Tinks.
"No, man. . . he's a topper."
"He's a topper."
"What are you talking about? What's that?"
They are younger than I and didn't grow up with the colored handkerchiefs hanging from back pockets.
That's "I," not "me," though I'm sure this will change and become "common usage." Nobody cares. Q always says things like "Grammar is a failed science," and "Grammar is for the unimaginative."
On Sunday, being unable to walk, I decided to use my 4x5 camera around the house for practice. I set up some objects outside, set up the camera, made multiple adjustments, sweated like the pig I am, and in two hours shot four black and white negatives and six color. It was quite the ordeal. Large format photography is very frustrating. Yesterday, I developed the black and white negatives. None of them had an image. All I can think is that the developer, which was quite discolored, was too old. I was kerflumpt. That is not a real yiddish word, but one I quite often use. It must be my version of verklempt which does not have quite the same meaning as I am giving to kerflumpt. Maybe its meaning lies somewhere between verklempt and kerfuffle. It sounds like it, anyway.
I looked at the color film holders lying on the counter. I didn't want to develop them, but I needed to get something out of all the time I had spent with the big camera. The chemistry for color photography is hot--102 degrees for the developer. I have to get a pan and make a hot water bath to keep the temperature up. The chemicals seem more toxic to me, too, so I always wear gloves when I work with them. Or I should.
I heated the chemicals, got everything set up, and went to work.
Two of the four negatives had no image.
I think I'm done with large format. I may sell all of my large format gear--two 4x5 cameras and one 8x10 plus all the lenses--and buy a digital medium format camera. They are expensive. I keep trying to get the Fat Cat Q to buy one so I can see if he likes it, but he'd rather spend his money on other stupid shit. He'll be sorry, though, if I buy one. I should do it just to piss him off.
But truly, why would I need it? I have an iPhone.
I'm going to change my routine today. I usually go to the gym after I write. Not today. I am going to do something else and then go to the gym in the afternoon. Radical, huh? That's me. Crazy Boy.
Just to follow up and complete the tale, the "steam in my strut" didn't last very long. The knee is stiff and still hurts. I will try to walk on it today, though, as it seems that I will not do more damage to it. At least that was my takeaway from the doctor's "it depends on how much pain you can tolerate." Poco y poco. I must use common sense in which I have no faith.
Holy shit!!!! There is a hell of a racket outside. A crew of men tearing my yard apart. They are putting in underground lines for cables. They are fucking it all up and I know they will not repair it properly. They are not cutting just a little but the entire perimeter of my yard. I'm a corner house. I have a lot of perimeter.
I'm a little sick with it. I can do nothing about it. I can't watch this. I think I'll go to the gym after all.