Good Riddance 2022!

How I felt early Fri-AM.          Photo: © S. Banos

As good as 2022 has been photographically, I coulda really done without this October and November. First, there was the plague of... bed bugs! Most likely courtesy of my next door neighbor who recently moved out- often were the times I wondered who could possibly survive in her place with the stench of rubbing alcohol seeping out into the hallway that would literally take my breath away in passing. Oh, that was a heaping, helping load full of fun- first the bites, then the denial, then more and more bites trying every which way to get rid of the damn things, and miserably, repeatedly failing. Fearing the very night itself, fearing for my own sanity... until I finally, finally concocted a working solution that mercifully worked and rid me of the little blood suckers (I refused to have everything I owned, including me, doused in pesticide). It's no small wonder that people have accidentally burned down their very homes trying in desperation to rid themselves of the evil little shits.

Then came... the health woes! Two trips to the ER, one in an ambulance, courtesy of a woefully inept health care service. If only life had bequeathed me such equal heights and peaks of absolute pleasure to match the severity of pain that so repeatedly savaged certain parts of my body. Last Friday (TMI Warning!), I was finally relieved of an appendage that was shoved into me with half a dozen thrusts that had me screaming bloody fucking murder each and every time (and that was far from the worst of it). I spent said morning just carelessly walking about practically giddy with joy just being able to do so, pain free and physically unencumbered. I even managed two keepers while doing so- and three the very next day! Not a bad antidote for vengeance and recovery.

And I would have been happy to leave it that... except that a good friend I've known since childhood just had the latest of a long series of his own health setbacks that have made mine look positively light hearted- and I don't say that casually. Hard to feel all upbeat and positive when someone you know has been dealt such harsh, repeated and life altering blows- accepting them without bitterness or complaint. Something I am well not accustomed to. I've just had periodic servings, some get the full course dealt them...

Post euphoric reality...     Photo: © S. Banos

Best-Laid Plans Of...

Photo: © Stan Banos

I was recently sitting and thinking, had a pretty damn good year photographically, definitely got my share of keepers. Yup, sure did. Then I started contemplating on my long term plan, good plan, solid plan- crank out the work till seventy when my SS gets to $2k, and then- just roll with the punches with the bit I got stashed... Golden! 

Only one small glitch- I can be as good and faithful to plan as can be, but... there's no guarantee in any of it. Only one fool has agreed to the terms- and that be me! Having just turned sixty seven, I've seen one too many friends and acquaintances fold in that five year stretch starting at sixty five. Goddamn Danger Zone Supreme! And it really don't matter how good your health is, how good you've been taking care of yourself- Nature's gonna do what nature's gonna do... and it don't give a flying monkey what you got planned! 

Last two weeks I got pretty damn ill, spent a good portion of it exploring new heights and levels of excruciating pain in areas of my body I had already thought could not possibly be surpassed! Had my health care service (Thrive Baby!) been half what it so proudly touts itself to be, I would have been back on my feet in ten days- Tops! Somewhere between the two trips to the ER (one in an ambulance), I got to seriously thinking on my Grand Master Plan. That little bit o' money ain't gonna do squat for quality of life if I can't get out and enjoy it! I mean, lord knows what's headed down the pike next time I get laid out- maybe the smart deal is to quit while the going's not yet quite gone... 

2 Phones

I have two phones now, and not because I need them, or because my life is all that complicated. I was simply bequeathed one from work; it's a smart phone, unlike my personal phone, the one I now officially call my "spam phone," which is exactly what it excels at. Lately, the calls have progressed from Medicare benefit inquiries to those of the funeral service variety. Since I never quite persevere long enough (if at all) to avail myself of what exactly they're offering, it's still endearing to know they constantly have my best interests in mind...

I'm just sorta worried about them is all, they've kinda painted themselves into a corner. I mean what's possibly left after my funeral concerns? Maybe something to do with... wills!? I can't seem to think of anything else- perhaps I should pass that on to them! 

Wait, I'm getting a call...

NYC '22

 

Paola Pivi- You Know Who I Am, 2022

Was in NY for a week, and no, I won't go into my usual gentrification rant yet again. It was the yearly excursion to visit: moms in the nursing home (and a dear friend in the ICU), the post Covid Mermaid Parade, The Bronx Documentary Center and last and not least, to chow down on as many slices of Two Boots pizza as I possibly could in the time allotted. Located at The Jane in the Meatpacking District, I started each day on The High Line by gandering at the guy above, art as it should be: free, multifaceted and humorous; how can you not start you're day on the good foot looking at that mug and all it stands for!

All Photos: © Stan Banos

On the other end of the The High Line was our old 'friend,' The Vessel (or if you're Eastern European- "The Wessel"), the $200 Million doodad of everything art shouldn't be- gaudy, ginourmous and the centerpiece for NYC's currently most expensive neighborhood. (Un)fortunately, it just may have to be... dismantled. Closed since July of last year due to its penchant for attracting those with a penchant for jumping off its higher levels, including one guy who supposedly first murdered his mother- the latter which has pretty much become the de rigueur, signature statement of mass shooters everywhere. You'd think they'd have a plaque for this guy right next to it for breaking the mold and just offing himself after the fact- bloody saint he is! Anyway, they only let you walk into the middle of The Vessel these days, and on the ground floor only- climbing any of its 16 stories, 80 landings and 2,500 Escherian steps is strictly Verboten! It's now been rendered almost Banksy...est!

Charging Bull

 

Walking about certain parts of the city, I noticed how something was kinda... off, actually couldn't explain it at first. Of course, foot and car traffic seemed well below 'normal." Duh-uh! Plum forgot that little pandemic thang; apartments must be really cheap then- right? Anyway, walk I did- at one point I heard my train arriving and proceeded to run up the subway platform stairs as I have countless times since childhood. My body from the waist up lunged forward and upward, while my legs emphatically rejected the go message and remained glacially stationary! My body was Reed Richards waist up, Ben Grimm waist down. First time that has ever happened, and at 66, I had no choice but to laugh it off and just be thankful- it was 5pm, and had been walking since 10am. 

 

 

Mermaid Parade '22

 

Brooklyn in the foreground; Queens in the back.

 

Managed to get a snap here, a snap there, but didn't think the lot amounted to much of anything, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I actually did manage to score a few keepers (even if only one at the parade), and... ten slices of pizza overall. Most regrettably, a standard, everyday jelly donut of perfection at The Donut Pub now costs A Whopping... $2.50!!! I had once thought that our known universe could not possibly support a donut that cost over $1.00; I thought much the same of a movie costing over $10.00.

To Be, Or...

Photo: © Stan Banos**

 

 

Last weekend, I attended the Right To Life rally in San Francisco. I went there solely for the possible photographic opportunity, and I was rewarded with my one. Full disclosure- I was actually pretty anti abortion when I was younger- yeah, you could say that 12 years of Catholic schooling had something to do with it (probably the last vestige of Catholicism I shed). When I began to more closely examine those on either side, I rather quickly realized that I had a (whole) lot more in common with those who were Pro-choice, than the other side.* Why was that? I then gradually evolved the position that I've held to this day- abortion's one pretty nasty thing (to say the very least), but as long as women choose to have one (and it is their choice), then it should be as safe as medically possible. I also think that they should be properly informed (ie- not indoctrinated or browbeaten) of all possible choices/alternatives before getting one- again, the actual choice being most certainly the woman's prerogative. Too many woman have died needlessly painful deaths at the hands of incompetents throughout history, a history that cannot be allowed to repeat.

*I honestly think (most) anti-abortionists have their heart in the right place- just that it's fixated in-that-one-place. Once that baby is born (of their will and legislation), most wash their hands of any responsibility faster that Pontius Pilate in Olde Judea Towne! In fact, many willingly endorse laws and policies that will directly contribute to that child (particularly those of color) growing up with predictably subpar: housing, food, healthcare, schooling, environment and every other opportunity necessary for a decent life's outcome. Many end up in the criminal justice system, and those pro-lifers are the first to scream death penalty! Mission accomplished?

Must be said, what was also rather unsettling to see in that crowd was so many clergy (eg- priests, monks, brothers, sisters) of all Catholic denominations (eg- Dominicans, Franciscans, Jesuits, etc) most of them so ridiculously young (early twenties) and can't help but say... incredibly nerdy looking- all enthusiastically ambling about in their capes and robes like teenage Cosplay fans, looking for all the world as if they had the collective maturity and life experience of a twelve year old! Where are these young enthusiasts when it comes to rallies trying to save the very planet their entire flock toils upon?

** It's curious, whenever one sees a child participating at a demonstration or march to which one is aligned- one's initial thought is anywhere between how they're so cute, to how truly well informed and brought up they are by such wonderfully concerned and devoted parents. When it's a child of an opposing group, we automatically think of how abused and brainwashed that poor child is!

I've never really concerned myself with the thought of photographing famous people although I would love to take Greta Thunberg's portrait, what possesses a child of fifteen to realize the one basic truth that somehow escapes the vast majority of adults- that climate change has doomed our entire planet as we know it? Hard to believe she is now nineteen...

This little girl brought her to mind, though they likely started at opposite sides of the political spectrum on more than one topic- granted, I would most certainly hate to be remembered for my beliefs ("political" or otherwise) at her tender age.

Scalp Society

Photo: © Stan Banos

Always been kinda ticked off that we didn't get to see this when down that neck of the woods... But, "it is what is," as the famous philosopher says. At least I got to witness and immortalize the the joint above right here in SF, that somehow managed to give off a similar vibe (least to me) and specializes in these very timely services- which I could properly benefit from! I'm guessing I'm somewhere in the $3000 range...

Wasn't sure at first, thought the baseless parking meter and No Parking signs imposing their way into the shot would serve only to detract; instead, I think they add a bit of nuanced dynamism that serves to emphasize a pretty somber composition! And not that anyone cares (or should for that matter), but after studying the compositional possibilities from across the street, I had about 2.3 seconds to dash into said street, compose, snap and hastily retreat before being run over by a serious phalanx of no nonsense, oncoming traffic on one of San Francisco's busier streets (and pedestrian empty sidewalks).