What. . . Me Worry?

Who needs a "camera"?  Travis looked out his backdoor yesterday and saw this.  Grabbed his phone.  Boom.  Light, shadow. . . it looks like Tuscany.  Love it.  Makes me want to sip wine and eat chunks of crusty bread dipped in olive oil.  The good life.  

C.C. sent me this from some dockside bar in Connecticut.  He's on a three month travel tour up the east coast.  Much of what I have gotten up to this point has been pictures of country kitchens serving groundhog steaks and squirrel gravy, but he has reached sophisticated lands now.  He'll soon be eating crepes.  

Travis sent me an image of the book "America's Greatest Road Trip" with the message "Get in your car and go."  But maybe, you know, I've become a sort of Garden Wall cat now, lying in the sun and lapping up the cream of life.  

Just thinking.  

There are adventures everywhere if you just try, right?  If I would just get my cojones up enough to ask the tall, beautiful tatted girl at the Cafe Strange to let me take her picture. . . perhaps right there in the cafe, sitting by one of the windows at a table, using my big-ass Liberator camera, or perhaps standing out front strange and formal in front of the Cafe Strange sign.  I've thought about a whole series of workers in front of their shops, preachers before their churches, an Imam in front of a mosque, a used car dealer in front of his little car lot with all the triangular flags, etc.  

But I've gotten so self conscious about it all.  The question I keep hearing from the mouth of a detractor--"Why?  What's the point?"  That's not a question that needs entertaining, perhaps, but I've gotten feeble, I think, and have lost all resolution.  

In the past, my answer would have been simple:  "You're a moron. . . do you know that?"

That's a great question, isn't it?  You've cornered the person into admission.  They either know it or they don't.  Either way. . . . 

O.K.  For that project, a phone camera won't do.  Not because you couldn't make good photos, but no one would take your proposal seriously.  Would they?  I need to think about that one.  Do the whole series on an iPhone?  Hmm.  Could be cool.  And it sure would be quick.  You could even do video interviews to go along with it without any effort at all.  Some teenager will probably do it and get famous, photos hung at MoMA.  Some kid with chutzpah.  

I had a dinner guest last night.  The house still has last night's aroma.  After dinner, she wanted to watch the republican debate.  I was appalled.  Why the fuck?  But I acceded. . . sort of.  I couldn't shut up.  They spoke in platitudes.  I'll give you the summary.  We need to protect our children and return to our core values.  And, of course, a country without borders is not a country at all.  We need to protect our citizens.  

They might as well stand up there and read the Ten Commandments.  Or they could simply condense them.  See no evil, hear none, speak none.  Do be a Do Bee.  Always do what's right.  Never do anything wrong.  Do be a sidewalk walker.  Etc. 

Looking at the screen, I realized DeSantis is the spitting image of Alfred E. Neuman.  My companion pointed out that Ramaswamy looks just like Butthead.  I mean, he gives Gaetz a run for his money on that one.  I guess that is the New Republican haircut.  Haley was obviously jacked on ephedrine and Christy had forgotten to take his thyroid meds.  

My friend made me turn it off.  I guess I "ruined" the debate for her.  

But goddamn, was dinner good.  

It is swampy summer here again, good days to get any indoor work done.  I may return to scanning and making decisions about a website.  I haven't worked on any of that for over a week.  But you can't do everything now, can you?  

Before I part, I wouldn't want you to think I'm biased.  I mean, the dems aren't having debates, but were they. . . . 

What, me worry?