One Man Level of Cool!

Photo: © Stan B.

Having grown up in New York, I've always admired a sense of style. It takes something to possess one, even more to own it; and says something about the person and how they move in the world. Of course, it's ultimately superficial (never judge a book by its cover) but in a world so dominated by the visual- it can carry the day! Some may call it, "Cool-" the look, the manner, the very presence.

There are many things I admire about San Francisco, where I have lived these past 25 years. One thing it clearly does not possess however, is a distinct sense of personal style- it's never recovered completely from the Flower Power days, but its denizens absolutely jump at the chance of getting into costume for whatever generic holiday, event or celebration (they even run their foot races in costume)!

I was on the return journey home from Crissy Field in SF, a simply gorgeous day in a simply gorgeous area around the Golden Gate Bridge, enjoying it for what it was since I knew I was returning home with nothing to show for it, when I happened upon this gentleman who seemed dropped by the hand of god beside that particular signpost. A surreal off site presence, as if he had created his own French New Wave retro movie in which he was clearly starring in the leading role! And star he did!

Before exposure I only dared look at him peripherally, trying desperately not to be noticed- while positioning myself directly in front of him (with no one else beside or around me for cover)! To make things worse, there was a group of tourists directly beside him- I would have to wait, and clearly he would change his position or just wander off while I waited for them to depart and leave us. My previsualizaion was most certainly doomed. Meanwhile, I turned around, checked my exposure and distance- and... prayed. 

As the crowd finally (finally) moved, I turned and quickly took a short series of exposures with very minor alterations from left to right. In my absolute haste to get it in the can, I still didn't get the opportunity to assess the totality of the image (and subject) I was capturing. And he never did look in my direction or acknowledge me (at least not while I was looking), although he certainly had to have sensed my presence. I thought perhaps it was just another street eccentric who temporarily succeeded in  rising to the level of his own imaginings (the most any of us can usually aspire to)- but upon examining the image, it was clear the guy's no simple poseur, this guy's the real deal! Cool? The man defines it!* The suit, that pose, the whole freakin' shebang- goddang, he is a goddamn, one man movie! But is he hero, or villain?!?

*He even balances the phone parallel to the horizon line!