Today is the shortest day of the year, and the longest night. Cull what you will from the meaning of that.
“All I want is what I… I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share.” ~Sally Brown
“Look, Charlie, let’s face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It’s run by a big eastern syndicate, you know.” ~Lucy Van Pelt
One thing I happily glossed over about A Charlie Brown Christmas when I was a kid: it consists almost entirely of recycled Peanuts comic strip dailies.
Recently I’ve been thinking about consumption. I thought of this as I reminisced about lenses I once owned and now miss; all that beautiful 1970s and 80s era Nikkor glass. What if I magically had a storage unit with all my old gear in it? But then I thought about the police scanners and Sony Trinitrons and flannel shirts and cars. Then, I thought, what if I magically had a warehouse full of everything I ever owned? Every bunch of broccoli. Every quart of motor oil. Every beer. Every loaf of bread. Every magazine and newspaper and paperback and hardback book. Every computer and floppy disk. All the DVDs and CDs and Blu-Ray discs and VHS video cassettes and vinyl records and compact cassettes and all the appliances to play and record them. All the wine and water. Everything. How big would that warehouse be?
Abby and I saw some of a M*A*S*H marathon. We’ve both been watching this show all our lives, so I looked it up: of the 11 main actors throughout the series, only five are still alive: Alan Alda, Loretta Swit, Gary Burghoff, Mike Farrell, and Jamie Farr.
Abby and I watched The Innocent Man, a Netflix original series, this week. Though I was not interviewed on camera, the show, about two mishandled murders in Ada, is full of my images. I wrote my column this week, which ended up being our lead story Wednesday, about the day two of them were exonerated.
An unassailable truth: when Abby is up and about, I can sneak through the house like a ninja. But when she’s asleep, I might as well be on roller skates carrying a box of chandeliers.
My intermediate/advanced photography class ended on a high note, with good epiphanies from all my students. We all had fun, and they all seemed to learn a lot.
My column for Saturday will be about the true meaning of Christmas, about which I will likely catch flak because I didn’t mention Christ. But it was a good-natured column, so only the true nut jobs will call. Yay.