Sounds like an album name by Collective Soul, doesn’t it?
Anyway, that’s a long-winded way of saying, “Here, let me tell ya…”, and I’m gonna tell ya.
Oh, where do I start? How about fireworks. July 4th, or 4th of July, or whatever you want to call it. Independence Day. And with that goes fireworks. So many people loooooooooooooove fireworks. I couldn’t shit care less. Seriously. They do nothing for me. Ok, yeah, they’re kinda cool, but my reaction is more of a… 😐
Being a semi-serious photographer, I totally don’t get the fascination with fireworks photography. Seriously, what’s the point? All the photos look close enough to the same that they might as well be. There is no discerning difference from one photo to the next.
Ooh, a story: Many years ago I was leaving Disneyland one night, and while walking to the car the fireworks show started. That’s not what caught my attention, though. What made me stop and stare and chuckle was all the Japanese tourists… and if you don’t see the humor in the stereotype, you’re hopelessly liberally unfunny… stopped and ran for a better vantage point and started shooting dozens of photos. What were they hoping to get? Were these fireworks any different from the fireworks they’d see in Japan or anywhere else? Would they be able to tell the difference? Was it that they were Disneyland Fireworks that made them all that more special? The mind boggles.
And of course, right now, all the yahoo neighbors are out setting stuff off and generally having an inbred good time.
Procrastination is the bane of my existence. That should be my official trademarked slogan… Ken Boardrow: Procrastination is the Bane of My Existence(tm). Example: When was my last post here? That’s right, about a month ago. Ish. Oh, I’ve had plenty of ideas, on an almost daily basis. I even start writing them down on occasion, and get some pretty good stuff set to keyboard. But do I do anything with it? Not often enough. No, I sit and read random Wikipedia articles, learn about the second largest island in Norway, for example, and generally do nothing productive.
I hear what I want to hear. Ok, not that literal, but sometimes. If you’re constantly harping on me, then of course I’m not going to listen or pay attention. Why would I? I don’t get anything from it.
On the other hand, sometimes… more often than even I like to admit… I’m so far off into my own world that I’m not hearing anything around me at all. The best part is that I’m probably recreating what I should have said in an argument 30 years ago. Really important stuff.
How can you tell by looking at me? You can’t.
My older family and friends can probably relate to this, but my memory is slipping. I don’t remember things in minute detail like I used to. I have lost count how many times I have had to get out of the car, and go back in the house to get what I forgot. The best part? It’s almost always sitting right next to where everything else was that I did take. So, apparently it’s not only memory, but eyesight as well.
What? Oh, tell me tomorrow, I’ll deal with it later.