Weather or not.

I love clouds. I think we all have probably played the cloud game in our lives; I have seen clouds that look like dinosaurs, Mickey Mouse, and even Snoopy. What I like most about the game is it uses your imagination---when I was a kid I wanted to take pictures of what I saw. I never did.

I would have to go back to my grade school days, but we learned about all the different types of clouds---I learned about Cumulus, Cirrus, and Stratus. I had no idea, of what I recall, that there were different types of clouds. They didn’t have a cartoon, person, or animal associated with it, so that's probably why I had a difficult time once the test hit the desk.

One thing I do know about clouds is they often times contain rain water. Probably one of the most interesting visuals is to see clouds off in the distance with long “string like" lines heading downward. This would be what is know as rain of course and you can see it when you when you are traveling on highways or from points that are very far away. I love this visual.

It’s when you fly through clouds that you realize their power; when it’s one of the gigantic “Cumulonimbuses” clouds, you know a one that's 10 miles from end-to-end, it has got to be different than the fluffy cotton balls we think they look like.

The photo above was take in Lake Tahoe; like an enormous cloud rising from behind a wall, this cloud bank turned out the be harmless. I do believe if it had packed its bags and moved to Chicago, it would have wreaked havoc in our area. For some reason clouds behave differently when they come to our neck of the woods—as far as I am concerned, they are more than welcome to be on vacation somewhere else as we now have more water than we know what to do with.

Thanks for stopping by.

Christmas in July.

A week ago we celebrated what is known as “Christmas in July.” I have always found this to be interesting because if the real celebration is to be half-way to the holidays, the real date would be June 25^th. (For you trivia buffs, this is the day Michael Jackson died, and is my son’s birthday.)

I really didn’t know much about the history of this “holiday” but I have learned it is actually a fun holiday celebrated in certain parts of Europe and Austria. What’s interesting, and of no surprise, is it involves food---but in this case, not presents. The food pretty much the traditional stuff we stuff ourselves with during the winter holidays. (Because it really is not really a holiday, the origins are still unconfirmed.)

I actually like both holidays; for the wintertime holiday, it brings family together, whether you “officially” celebrate the holiday or not, it is a wonderful time of the year. Sure there’s stress, but all in all, it is a great reason to get together with friends and family---and the food is always good. As far as the summertime version, I have never celebrated it, nor will I likely do it in the near term. I do love the weather however, so I am open to the celebration during my favorite time of the year.

There is one part of Christmas that does bother me; when the tree comes into the house, I am always wondering why they just can’t use a fake tree. I realize there is tradition behind it, however taking something that is alive---a tree---and cutting it down is just difficult for me. When it dries up and is a fire hazard, we then drag it out to the curb and leave it to be picked up by the trash man. I think it’s sad…but that’s just me.

The photo above was taken in Kirkwood, CA nearLake Tahoe. I “creatively” walked around the tree to center the moon at the top of the tree. Pretty tricky huh? I really like this photo---one thing I will always remember about it, I shot it right around “Christmas in July.” Fortunately the tree did not give it’s life---and there were no presents under it.

Thanks for stopping by.

Good. Fortune.

In a previous “Snap. Shot.” I wrote about some friends of ours who adopted two girls from China; they are a beautiful, loving, and fortunate family.

Last week I spent time in the Lake Tahoe area with my sister and brother-in-law and their family. (Since this is my second marriage, and I am not the “original brother-in-law,” and vice versa, we refer to one another as “faux-bros.”) Their generosity and openness is very contagious. But not just with our family…they have “reached out” much further.

When Andrew (Faux-bro) and I were out buying a roof top carrier for their car, we had a long talk about family complexities. I will not go into it here, but he said, “You know, you write so often, you should write a book about the family.” I explained, “I would, but I enjoy being part of the family and I am sure that would end rather abruptly if I wrote a book.” Plus, everyone would think it was fiction.” It would not be.

Andrew and his wife Cami have been to hell and back. When I first met them, their daughter was fighting for her life; a difficult first meeting, and one that did not end on a good note as they lost their youngest to a horrific disease.

So what did they do? Not what most married people do who have been through a horrible loss---they pulled up their bootstraps and moved forward all the while keeping the love of their lost child in their hearts. If they have looked back, it doesn’t show---they are very forward and giving people.

It started with having another child---a beautiful little girl who is “quite an addition” to the family; she gets along very well with her older brother. (I will write about Ty in a future “Snap.Shot.”--- he is a very thoughtful and talented teenager…yes, a teenager.)

But that was not enough, they wanted to expand the family even further, so they adopted “Leo.” Although a challenge at first, aren’t all boys when they are young, I have witnessed Leo grow up and become one of the funniest, good-natured little boys I have been fortunate to know. He is also a gifted athlete---he is 4 years old. You can tell he just has it.

But that’s not the entire story. Leo was 10 months old when he became part of the family. Last week I learned he came from a foster home and to say his future would have been challenging is an understatement. For Leo and his family, life has dealt them a lot of cards---with his addition, he truly, and no pun intended, has created a “full house.” To meet all 3 of the kids, and to note the differences between them, there is a rare string that brings it all together; it’s very interesting to witness, and the best part is, all of the kids, including ours, get along.

The photo above is of Leo. He is a happy, good-natured little boy; he is curious, animated and very bright. If this were my child you would say I am just boasting about my kid, but he is my nephew and one I can not wait to see grow up. He will be able to look back and know what has happened to him in his life has been a real blessing---in other words, “Good. Fortune” for the entire family.

Thanks for stopping by.

America the Beautiful.

Okay, I know it’s hokey, but when you are fortunate to see America from every region of the U.S. over a period of a few weeks, you learn we really do live in a beautiful country. Since July 1, I have been to the following states: Illinois, New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, California, Georgia, and Wisconsin. (If I have a grace period of 3 days, I will be able to add Pennsylvania and Delaware to the list as I will be there next week.)

No I am not running for office, this has been pretty much all job related.

No matter where I have travelled, I have been able to see some very cool sites; whether it was from the “Top of the Rock” in Rockefeller Center in NYC to Turner Field in Atlanta, GA to Lake Tahoe in Northern California---this has been a year to see quite a bit of the good ol’ U.S.A and what it has to offer. Yes, I did have my camera with me.

Probably the most pleasant surprise from my travels has been how engaging the people have been when I have travelled to “their” hometowns as a guest/visitor. Sometimes we forget we are the ones who are visiting; I always try to remember this as I experienced a very rude awakening a number of years ago in Europe when some of my fellow Americans reinforced why we are sometimes (often) perceived as being arrogant.

So what did I experience when I was traveling?

In New York I witnessed probably one of the most beautiful skylines in the world from more than 70 stories above the ground. In Atlanta, I sat in the 3^rd row adjacent to the Milwaukee Brewers dugout (they were the visiting team) and in California I was able to experience the majesty of the mountains. If it were not for all of the mosquito’s I would likely have taken even more nighttime shots, but they were encouraging me to stay inside. I respected their request.

The photo above is one of many I took while in the Lake Tahoe region. The sun was going down and the colors on the mountain range were incredible; for me, this is something I never see at home, but then again, Californians don’t see what we have in Illinois. No matter where you travel, there is always something to be said about this country that reinforces its beauty---and when you do explore it, don’t forget to bring a camera with you.

Thanks for stopping by.

The 100-year flood. Again.

We have experienced something amazing. Since I moved to our neighborhood we have had 100-year floods 5 times. (Maybe six, I have stopped counting.) It usually starts with a day of steady rain and then a downpour like you can not believe; this must be what a hurricane looks like I always think, but the amount we get is far short of what states and coastal communities receive. For us that would be a 500-year flood.

This past weekend, sure enough we had another “100-year flood.” This time however I was not in town which places a greater fear in my mind due to the amount of flooding we have experienced over the years in our basement. The last one we had, brought more than a foot of sewer water into our basement; it was a Saturday, it seems to always be over the weekend, and it was just disgusting. For us, that was the final straw---we had to do something about it.

We made the decision to pull out the entire floor, re-pour the cement, add 3 sump pumps, and place drainage areas all around the house. The cost? It was ridiculous, but hopefully it will continue to be a very good investment.

I was talking with one of my neighbors on the train today and she was telling me she had been in Ireland when the rains started and stopped. She came home to some water in her basement, but nothing like the neighbor between us experienced. He received over 6 inches and had a royal mess to deal with. All I could say was, “Bob I am so sorry as we have all been there.” He told me enough is enough, and is going to get his basement fixed for good. I hope he is right as I hope we are right.

About 20 years ago, in St. Louis, the rains came. They came for many days. At that point in time I don’t think the city had ever experienced that much water; it rained for most of the summer. Highways were closed, houses floated away, and when it was all done, they made sure that the next time this would have a similar effect was 500 years from now. That would be 480 years or 2510 for those who are counting. I assume we will be long gone.

The photo above fortunately was taken on a trip to Vietnam; long known for a much different climate than what we have in the U.S., flooding is part of the region. We don’t own a boat, nor do I plan on purchasing one---that is unless we have that 1000 year flood that seems to one day be on the horizon.

Thanks for stopping by.

Filling in the blanks.

When I go home to visit my Dad in St. Louis, I will often look at photos that were taken when I was a baby or even before I made my presence into this world. What’s interesting is how black and white photography was pretty much the only game in town. That or really bad color photos.

Now black and white is very much in vogue--what I like/love about it is how you have to fill in the colors with your mind. You don’t have to worry if that outfit looks bad because of the colors, because there is no color. Plus you use your imagination in a way that is much more creative than looking at the “exact.” One of my favorite things to convert to black and white are scenery shots; probably the one subject that should never be converted. (Tell Ansel Adams that!)

In digital photography, and with the help of Photoshop and other “enhancers,” you can pretty much do whatever you want with a photo. Don’t like the tree, then move it; head not right, change it. It’s all pretty simple and you really cannot tell the difference.

When I used to sell advertising in a magazine called, “Sunset,” I will never forget hearing how the cover photo had a cloud moved from one side of the photo to another. Since this is not newsworthy editorial, changing a photo for visual reasons (it fell right on top of the magazine’s logo) is perfectly fine. Changing a newsworthy photo or one you might find in National Geographic, that’s not fine. Accuracy is an important part of what they produce each month.

For me, photography is way to make the ordinary creative. Whether it’s a photo that is shot from behind the individual or a quirky angle, that’s okay if it looks visually interesting.

The photo above is one I wanted to shoot and knew it would be fun. The two girls above are my daughter and her good friend, Ava. They have known each other for years. What I like most about the photo is the silhouette because you use your imagination but also split in the water line. Shot at Brookfield Zoo’s new bear exhibit, the bears were nowhere to be seen, but luckily either were the people when I wanted to take this photo.

Thanks for stopping by.

The bumpy ride home.

Last night I flew from Oakland, CA to Chicago, IL. (For you airport fanatics that would be OAK to MDW.) I flew SWA and arrived at 9:50 CST.

Yesterday in Chicago we had a lot of rain; more than we probably have had all summer all wrapped up into one day. We had a total of 7 inches---if it had been 50 degrees-plus cooler, we would have had a mere 7 feet of snow. Can you imagine?

Now, typically storms move from West to East and I am sure this one was no different than any other storm, however there was some type of system out West that was making our plane feel like a roller coaster. The good news---no one got sick. The better news, I was so engrossed in a book I barely noticed it. I will not tell you what book, but it was a trashy novel. That’s okay, that’s why they call them plane books. This one fit the bill.

I have been on airplanes where it was like riding on glass. Not all the time of course, and different times of the year have better or worse weather; but for sure a summer storm can toss around an airplane like it’s made of paper. That’s what we had last night. We went up, down, side to side, and other directions and we didn’t even have to pay more for the ride. The best part---there were kids behind us and they made it sound like it was an amusement park ride. I am not sure if all of the adults appreciated it, but it was kind of funny to hear.

When we got off the plane many people were thanking the pilot for getting us down to the ground; I had to smile, as I knew he wanted to be down as badly as any of us did, but he politely said, “You’re welcome.” When we landed, and while I was driving home, I found out what caused this bumpy ride---there was thunder, lightening and rain waiting for me from the airport to my front door.

The photo above had nothing to do with the bumpy ride home, however I suspect it was thunderheads like this that created a lot of the bounce. Planes have come a long way from Wilbur and Orville’s venture in Kitty Hawk, NC. Fortunately we didn’t end up there, that would have been way out of the way.

Thanks for stopping by.

Days gone by.

It usually happened on a Sunday, and it was warm outside. I would head off with my Dad, brother and Grandfather to a lake near the border of Missouri and Illinois to go fishing for Carp fish. (If you know anything about Carp, they are the big brother and sister of goldfish---yes the kind you win at the carnival type.)

Those were really fun days; there were several reasons I enjoyed them. Probably the first one was spending time with the guy side of my family, but tagging very close behind was the knowledge that if I went, I would be able to miss Sunday school. I do recall a few things about fishing for carp that made it kind of boring however. Carp are very sensitive fish…they know when there is someone on the other side of the pole. So you have to place the pole in a holder, after you have placed some type of sticky bait on the hook, and cast the line in the water. Then you sit and wait.

But, when they take the bait you know you are in for a rush. These are not small fish, they probably weighed over 10 pounds of what I recall. They were not happy biting into some sticky bait and getting hooked by a 4-pronged piece of metal. They let you know about it.

One time I had placed my pole on the ground and was sure it would be fine not being placed in the holder; I mean come on, I could get the pole before anything could possibly happen. I was wrong. That Carp took the bait, hook, and pole for a ride; once it struck, the pole was gone, I mean, it was gone. Something happened to cause the pole to stop moving and I was able to see a white dot (the bottom of the pole) a pretty good distance in the water. It was either my Dad or brother who went in to get it, and as you might guess, the bait was gone. Still a story we laugh about today.

It’s hard to believe these fishing dates were more than 40 years ago. However, I can remember them like they were yesterday.

The photo above was taken in the Lake Tahoe area. This boy and his brother were standing on a rock doing their best to catch something. What brought back the memories was when he yelled to his Dad, “there’s something wrong with this pole, it really is not very good.” Like the days gone by, he used the same excuse I did.

Thanks for stopping by.

Stopping and smelling the roses.

We are now in the middle of summer. Like other summers I can never comprehend where the time goes and how we look forward to welcoming it back again.

I know what’s in front of us and I am not a fan of it. I do like fall as it is probably one of the most spectacular times of the year; fresh crisp air, colors literally exploding off the trees, and then the first freeze of the season. The best part of the freeze, it kills off many of the insects. Beyond that, I know of no redeeming value.

So it’s now or never. It’s so important to stop and take in what summer has brought to us again this year. Although this has been a particularly warm summer, it’s nothing like previous summers I can recall growing up. Those summers are implanted in my mind as really hot, humid, and wonderful. I do like summer.

This was also the time of the year my Mom loved. She loved it for many reasons; one, she hated snow and in St. Louis there is no such thing as a snowy summer. Second, she loved the St. Louis Cardinals baseball team and the years she spent listening and watching the games. Last, she loved taking the harvest from my Dad’s garden and sharing it with friends and family---this was her time, the time she loved, the time she felt most connected. (At least that’s my interpretation of her life.) It’s not like she didn’t like the other seasons, but summer was her season.

Since my Mom’s passing, I am working to stop and smell the roses, flowers, etc. with a little more frequency. I am one who does fall back into ruts as we all do, but if you are able to try something new, take a break from the ordinary, and lift your head up and look around, you will see a lot of things you had no idea were there. I know I have.

The photo above is of our youngest daughter in downtown Chicago. It’s not just tall buildings and concrete in “the Windy city.” We have parks, zoos, and much to do. It’s a very livable city and one I am very happy to call home. This year I have been able to experience some new cities I had never been to---or had spent little time in. I have discovered and explored---and for me, that’s a great way to experience what life has to offer.

Thanks for stopping by.

Point and shoot.

In photography, some of the best pictures take minutes if not hours and days to shoot. For those of us who do not have the time to devote to taking these types of photos, we usually point the camera and push the button. This is known as point and shoot---a very applicable name, and one that is probably used for 99% of all photographs taken.

The best part of using the point and shoot method is you get to take more photos; when you are in the mountains as we are this week, you really don’t want to set aside hours to get that perfect photos, because all it takes is a cloud, bad lighting, or some other variable you can’t control to make the photo one you would delete.

I have never really been a nature guy, and we are staying in a cabin (it sleeps 19 people, has 5 bathrooms, and is nicer than any home I would or could ever imagine living in) so “nature” is not 100% applicable here. The idea of roughing it is we don’t have wireless Internet connection (we have to drive 200+ yards for it) and the signals on our Blackberry and Iphone’s do not allow you to do anything more than talk on the phone. How did we ever live like this??

But all you have to do is step outside and your world turns from palatial to unbelievable.

The scenery around here changes throughout the year; this past winter they had 600 inches of snowfall and even when packed down, it still measured 10 feet high. As spring takes over, the snowmelt makes it’s way down to lakes around the region, including Lake Tahoe, and introduces an entirely different look to the area. Crystal clear blue skies, warm days, and cool nights. The one draw back are the mosquitoes---for some reason I didn’t think they were found here, but I was wrong. Very wrong.

I have never been here in the winter but I can imagine shooting pictures is fairly easy to do; similar to shooting in the summer the scenery jumps out at you and says, “Take my picture.” It doesn’t require extensive set up, it can if you choose to get the ultimate photo you will treasure for life, but for a lot less time, you can take hundreds of photos that are almost as good. I know which I prefer.

The photo above was taken just steps from where we are staying; you step outside, you do your best to avoid the mosquitoes, and you point and shoot. The outcome is spectacular---at least the way I see it. I hope you do too.

Thanks for stopping by.

Lens. Envy.

In general I am not an envious person. I have been very fortunate to have been given a lot of great things in life; from family to friends to finances. (The last one has been challenging, but I do believe there is always a bright light at the end of the tunnel.)

So what would someone like me possibly be envious about? Really nothing that I must have, but things I would love to be able to experience. Isn’t that what envy is really all about anyway?

Last week I was at the Atlanta Braves game. I had an absolutely killer seat---I knew exactly where it was going to be because I hand picked it on Stub Hub---nice people were sitting next to and around me, and the night was just spectacular. Okay, I will admit, I did have to move down from row 7 to row 3, I was alright with that, because there was one man who was in my visual path of the field. It was all right for a while, but he kept moving his head back and forth and it was getting in too many of the photos. Plus, he had purchased those well known tomahawk’s that the fans wave back and forth---that was getting in the was as she was right next to him. So I moved.

I was inches from the Milwaukee Brewers dugout. I am not kidding---inches. A great view and a look into the world of the players when they are not playing; they talk, chew sunflower seeds and basically just wait until there is something to do.

Then it happened.

It was probably in between the 6^th and 7^th inning when a young guy walked up with a Nikon camera and a lens that from the dugout could have touched the pitcher. I have never seen a lens so large made from Nikon. I have seen them for Canon cameras, they are the white ones at the NFL games, but never for Nikon.

I was in awe; I wanted to find out more about that lens, but in order to do so I would have to break the code of talking to someone in the dugout. That’s something you are not supposed to do and I was not going to do it. So, I took a picture. That lens is more than likely double the size of the lens I use---with all the bells and whistles on it, it probably sells for more than $60,000. If that was not enough to make me envious enough, look where he is located, in the dugout!!! Okay I am better now.

The photo above was, in fact, taken at the Atlanta Braves versus Milwaukee Brewers game. What I loved about being where I was sitting was the location and view into the world of professional sports. There is a huge difference between being on the field and in the dugout---as glamorous as it appears to be a big league ball player, there is a lot of down time. For the photographer however, it’s different. During the period of 2 to 3 hours at the ballpark, there is always something to take a picture of---that’s why I love shooting pictures. Even with my lens.

Thanks for stopping by.

The promise.

Throughout life we make a lot of promises. From the simple, “I promise, I really mean it” you make as a child, to the more committed variety when you promise to take on another person in your life with the final words, “I do.” The ultimate promise is to love and care for a child you bring into this world--- no promise is any more or less important, they just take on different meanings throughout life.

Probably the biggest promise I have taken on is when I had children and the promises the kids insist you make to them; yes there have been times I have made promises, and not kept them, it’s usually something like we are going to go to the park, pool or movies, and it doesn’t happen. I hear about it. The funny part about getting grief is, when kids make promises to parents, there is a great likelihood that it will never happen; yet we as parents know this moment we hear it. We really were not really born yesterday. For those of you who are not parents, or their kids don’t make promises, here is what we hear---“I promise to study as soon as this show is over or yes I will clean my room or the ultimate I really promise to go to bed in just a minute.” In our household these are not promises, they are “throw away” lines I know will only happen when they are pushed to do it. That usually brings on whining, arguing and attitude, something I know all too well.

Outside of the home there are other promises that are made; whether in the work world, with friends or even when taking a photo, I have made promises that I have worked to live up to.

We all understand the promises in the work and personal world, but what could be promised when you take a photo?

To begin, when you take a photo of someone, you are in essence invading their world with the promise not to embarrass or defame them. It’s been done millions of times before---this is the role of a paparazzi. When you are a photographer like I am, the promises I make are to not make the person look ridiculous or negative. I have many photos that fall into this category, but they are stored on a hard drive and will likely never see the light of day.

Probably the ultimate promise I make when shooting pictures is when I take photos of people I don’t know who are in a much different position than I am. It might be a homeless man/women, street performer, or someone who is just in the background of what I am shooting.

The photo above is an example of a promise I made to a musician in Atlanta. His name is Ron DeLoach, he is a “Blues Harpstylish,” and has been performing for about 15 years. He finds locations where there will be foot traffic and where his music can be heard. He is actually very good. One of the things he told me was, he was a photographer a while back. He was knowledgeable on the topic so I knew he was legit. I made two promises to him----I told I was going to write a blog that he would be a part of (I have his e-mail address) and I promised to send him two photos. One was of him playing and the other was of 2 giraffes kissing---my comment, “If you have these printed, since you are outside of the zoo, I bet you can sell them. I promise.”

Thanks for stopping by.

Life at 3 miles per minute.

As my kids will confirm, I am not a fast driver; it’s probably one of the reasons I have not had a moving violation, but then again, I am probably just lucky. (There have been many times I should have had one.)

But there are some people who accel at high speed---and they have little fear of the repercussions. Whether it’s in the fast lane of any highway, on snowy streets, or just in general, going from point A to point B takes less time normally than I would travel it. One area where going fast is not only encouraged but expected is up at Road America in Elkhart Lake, WI. During certain weekends, even the novice driver---those with your basic “normal” car---can go on the track and drive it as fast as they want. That happened this past weekend and I was there.

It’s funny to see an Indy car driving next to a Porsche---but even funnier when the car is an Impala. Yes, the same Impala I may have passed on the way up to the track---but this car is going to drive as fast as the driver can take it, and my car is going to be parked and I am going to take pictures. I know very little about cars; sure I have been driving for more than 35 years, but to me a car has 4 wheels, another in the trunk, and a steering wheel to make sure you stay on the road.

One thing I do know about race cars, not the Impala, is they travel at high rates of speed and if you are going to photograph them at 150+ MPH you have to get into a rhythm. Try and hold your camera in one spot and snap the picture and you will see the background and maybe the backside of the car. They go that fast. However, if you move the camera with the car, no not at 150 MPH, but at a quick rate, it’s actually pretty easy photo to take. I have never shot NASCAR or at the Indianapolis race track, but one day I am hoping to have photos of my day at Indy on “Snap.Shot.” or possibly another blog I am thinking about writing. (Yes, that’s a hint of what is in store in my future.)

The photo above was taken at Road America. I was standing on a wall to achieve the best vantage point. You could hear the cars before they made the turn, but it was not long until they had passed you. This car was travelling at approximately 140 MPH---it’s the area of the track right before a long straight away. (I only know this because I asked.) When I left the racetrack, I did look in my mirror to see if any of the Indy cars were in back of me---if they were, I would have tried to keep up with them, as long as they didn’t go 7 MPH over the speed limit!

Thanks for stopping by.

The kiss.

It happens early in life and never stops. Hopefully.

When a baby comes into this world, one of the first things that he or she encounters is the first kiss from another human being. Most probably the mother and quickly followed by the father, siblings and relatives; it’s a level of intimacy that brings trust, comfort and solace.

Through out life it never stops; as a parent kissing your children is something you do naturally until it comes to the point where they look at you like there’s something wrong. There is nothing wrong, and that is quickly figured out when your kids becomes parents and they get to go through the entire process. Probably one of the most difficult kisses is when a loved one is sick or dying. Along with the kiss is emotion and fear you will never see them again---that’s a very difficult situation. Unfortunately I have been able to live it.

Probably one of the most famous photos of a kiss was shot by Alfred Eisenstadt who worked for Life Magazine. It's the photo in Times Square after soldiers returned from World War II. Recently the woman, Edith Shain, passed away---she was 92. The funny thing about that photo is the soldier, according to Eisenstadt, was walking around any women he could find---I guess Edith had one of the most important kisses of all time.

The photo above was taken recently at our local zoo. Two giraffes were together, along with zebras, in a large open area. I am not sure if this was an actual kiss, or if it's something giraffes do to one another---but they do have a look of emotion on their faces. If it’s nothing more than comfort, isn’t that what a kiss brings to two human beings any way?

Thanks for stopping by.

The empire state building.

When the Empire State Building was finished in 1931, it was the tallest building in the world. That lasted for about 40 years or so when the World Trade Center officially opened. Although there have been several crowned as the tallest, the Empire State Building is one that continues to hold a predominant place in the hearts of New Yorkers and individuals around the world.

This past week I was able to view the Empire State Building at night. When you take pictures in New York, especially of tall buildings, it's really difficult to capture the feel of the buildings from the street; it was one of the reasons I decided to "invest" in taking pictures from the top instead of from street level on "top of the Rockefeller Center." What I really enjoyed about taking the photos, was the power I felt of being so high above the street; I recently rented a book about buildings in Chicago shot at night from out local library. It was my motivation to shoot similar pictures, unfortunately, I was not even close to what was published in the book.

One thing I learned about the Empire State Building is they have a color pattern that change every week---I am not sure why they do this or what it stands for, but when you see this incredible structure, all lit up at night, it does take your breath away. Fortunately you are able to recover from it, and breath normal again, as evidenced by the colors of the Empire State Building.

The photo above is of the Empire State Building at night. When you see it, you know you are looking at something very important and a building that has been crowned as one of life's most wonders. Maybe not literally, but when you are standing at it's base, you understand why it represents the "The Empire State."

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The search.

Sometimes we search for things that we know we are not likely to find. It might be a physical loss, a feeling you can never seem to bring back, or something that have always been searching for but have never been able to locate. A long lost love, friend, or even a parent you have never met.

For many people it seems they are always in search of a better life; a chance to do something that is different than what they have been given in life. The saying the “grass is not always greener on the other side can be very true” but there are times where it can be a bit greener than what you have—but don’t count on it.

This week I was in New York and Atlanta---two different cities but with many similarities. We are in tough economic times---millions are unemployed and it seems everyone is working harder and faster, but for many, they continue to search for what will make them better; it’s very sad because for most they have a long search ahead.

Like everyone, I continue to search for what will present a better opportunity for my family; sure, more money would help pay some bills, but what I really want to bring to them is something they will really appreciate. What would I like to give, I am still searching for---I don’t have the answer.

The photo above is one I vowed never to show, but I have to. Last weekend, we went blueberry picking. One of the girls who came with us, accidently through away all of her money away when she tossed out her trash. She threw away $65.00. That’s a lot of blueberries! So, on the way back---some 4 hours later---we stopped to look for the money. My wife and kids went out back with an employee to look for the money. I am sorry to say, “they still have found what they’re looking for.” I wonder if the employees did when we left.

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The Beat.

Put a couple of plastic buckets upside down, grab two drumsticks, and start to play. It’s pretty amazing how when done right, it really does sound good---and that’s what Johnny the drummer does.

One of the things I enjoy doing, and it helps that I am behind a lens of a camera, is to take pictures of interesting people. (People that are mostly ignored.) Whether it’s a piano player at an airport, homeless man in Vegas, or a drummer in Atlanta near Turner Field, if you are willing to talk with them, and add to their pocket, they will talk about anything you want and let you take pictures.. Take one picture, hah, how about 30 to make sure you get the one you want. Most people who walk by have no interest at all in the individual---I try to learn more about them for my self and the readers of “Snap.Shot.”

Johnny has been playing these drums, or ones like them, for about 3 years. He didn’t say if he had a home, but I suspect it’s not one you or I would live in. He was very interested in playing for me---it was if he thought I was going to discover his talents and he would be off on the road to stardom. I did have to take a number of photos as I couldn't tell if they were coming out too dark. I would step into the shade and look, make an adjustment to the camera, and take some more. He just kept playing.

Further down the sidewalk I met a harmonica player who at one point was a photographer. He wanted me to take as many photos as I wanted---he too was given some spending money--I am going to send the pictures to him as he does have a computer and an e-mail address. I will be writing about him in the near future.

What is most interesting about street performers is their talent. With very rudimentary instruments, two buckets and drumsticks for example,, they are very talented musicians. Although it's unlikely they'll make it out of where they are at this time, it's fun learning more about who they are, where they come from, and how long they have been performing. Most people think I am nuts, but I think it's interesting.

The photo above was taken today as I walked to Turner Field to watch the Atlanta Braves play the Milwaukee Brewers. If it were not for a drunken woman from Milwaukee in the stands, the game would have had no excitement; this woman was screaming how much she loved every player from the Brewers. I turned to the guy next to me and said, “I don’t think she would be a good wife, she doesn't seem to be very loyal.” We had a good laugh.

Next time you see a street performer, think about talking with them---they really enjoy letting you into their world, and they really like your money.

Thanks for stopping by.

The Fly.

We’re nearing the end of the swimming season in our community. As far as actual dates, there’s still plenty of time to work on your tan, hang out at the pool, and jump off the diving boards---but when it comes to the swim team, it’s a pretty short season. What’s impressive is the commitment these kids have in a difficult sport. They are up early, swimming for up to 2 hours, and they go back for more everyday. Plus on the weekends, and one night a week, they have swim meets that at times are quite a distance away.

What also impresses me is how fast kids learn how to swim and how they really work at perfecting their skills, swim times, and teamwork. It’s a great “life” sport , one you will never regret if you continue.

One of my daughters is really into “what place” she comes in after the race has finished---it’s the ribbon she really cares about. On the other hand our older daughter is really hard on herself---it's funny she is not usually like this, I assume it's because she really cares about swimming, however she doesn't care about the ribbons. She just wants to do better and she can do better; but for what she has done, and how she works at it, she’s doing a great job. Like Charlie Brown’s teacher, when I comment, she hears, “wha wha wha wha.” In other words, like a kid, she just believes what she wants to hear.

There are many strokes they have to learn on the swim team, from “Freestyle (AKA “the crawl”) to the "Breath stroke" to my favorite, “The Butterfly.” That is one difficult stroke. We have a friend who swam for Team U.S.A. in the 1984 Olympics---her stroke was “The Fly.” I can not imagine how much work must go into preparing for such a difficult stroke knowing you are going to be swimming against the world’s best athletes in the sport. Her response, “I came in 13^th place.” My response, “You were in the Olympics, do you not realize how incredible that is to say--- and how many people would kill for that opportunity?” I guess she didn’t care because she gave me a “whatever.”

The photo above is one of my daughter’s swimming “The Fly.” With arms outstretched, she flies through the water; her response, “I came in second place.”I reminded her, there were 5 other kids who didn’t come in second, but she said, “I could have done better.” I love her commitment and drive, I wish she felt the same about dishes and her room, but for both of our girls who are on the swim team, I do hope they stick with it…I want to keep taking pictures.

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The secret.

We all have them in our lives. Some are deep and some, well they might as well be on the surface because you can't hold them in. A secret is probably one of the most trusting bonds two people can have, or unless you are 12 years old, and then it's more like what 30 people know. Let's face it, telling a lot of people a secret at that age, lets everyone know what you are thinking or confiding.

As surface as secrets can be there are many that are very deep and personal. Just today, and I am not sure how this happened, I sat in a Barnes & Noble Bookstore trying to work; a woman who was sitting on one of the chairs next to me proceeds to tell me deep dark secrets about her family. She lives in a shelter, had a $500,000 necklace given to her from her Mom, and her family basically murdered her Mother and banished her so she would not report it to the police. I really could not wait to get out of there, but I was waiting for something to download---I got up and said, "I have a meeting I have to attend, it was nice to meet you." I didn't look back.

My favorite kind of secrets are the ones the kids will tell me. "Daddy, I have a secret and you can't tell"---it usually has to do with something that is being given to me, or something that was broken and more than likely I will be finding out about it when it's discovered. One way or the other, it's fun to be in on a secret, as long as it is not like the one in the paragraph above---that was just too weird.

The photo above was taken a few months ago when a family friend was in town from L.A. What I love most about this photo is the innocence and smile; when you are in on a secret, you are someone special It's always important to listen to what the secret is---otherwise you goof it up. I have done it before, many times, and the outcome makes me look like a fool. Like the time I accidentally mentioned that someone was pregnant and her husband didn't know.He did when I when I was done as he stood right next to me. Not a good time to be in the know, when you know, someone doesn't know. You know?

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What would you do with 50 pounds of blueberries?

For the last several years we have gone to a blueberry farm to pick blueberries. I would assume that’s what most people would do, but in the wintertime, they sell Christmas trees so I guess you would call that farmland diversification. Have no idea if that’s a real phrase or not?

For blueberries to prosper it’s essential to have rain, sun, and warm weather---we have had all 3 so far this year. The berries were in abundance and we had no trouble making sure we picked our “fair share.” I guess “fair share” is a relative term as we did pick more than 50 pounds. At first I had no idea what we would do with all these berries, but after the first night, and 4-plus pounds down, I would say by September we will be out of them. I am told they are good for you; we will be in really good shape if that’s the case.

If you have been blueberry picking you know they grown on bushes that top out at about 6-feet high. It’s the branches that grow in many different directions that are the most challenging---you get smacked in the arms, legs and occasionally in the head. I was fortunate to have all 3 smack me a number of times. I did learn to duck after a while, but at times that did little good. I survived and personally pulled in about 14 pounds worth of these darn berries. When my daughters saw how many I would pick, we would trade so it would look like they had done most of the picking. After about 30 minutes I wished they had done all of it, as I was ready to leave. No such luck, we had 2 more hours of blueberry picking ahead of us!

So, what will become of all of these berries?

If last year is an indication, friends of the kids will come by and feel just fine having a bowl or two. We also will likely make a blueberry pie, and very likely we will eat them frozen; the majority were frozen once we got home and they are fun to eat. They are a little more difficult to consume because they give you “mouth freeze” after a while. That’s the same as brain freeze, but just in your mouth. Whatever we do with them, you can be sure every member of the household is a culprit once the accusations start to fly as to who ate the most? The dog is usually the innocent soul as he doesn’t like them. (One of the few things he doesn’t eat.)

The photo above is of the blueberries I personally picked. Okay, my daughter did as well, but hers are on the bottom---and often those she picked ended up in her mouth. The rule at the farm, eat as many as you would like. With 44 miles, yes 44 miles, of bushes-- they are not worried about people eating too many of them.

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What's wrong with this picture?

We have come a long way since the Kodak Instamatic. When launched in 1963, it was revolutionary as it placed cameras that were easy to use, and most important, affordable into the hands of almost everyone who wanted to take pictures.

If you were around back then, you might also remember the flash units required to make the picture a true photograph when shooting indoors. The devices would fit on to the camera and was called the Sylvania Blue Dot Flash Cube. With each cube you could take a total of 4 pictures. The only problem with it occurred after the photos were taken---the cube was really hot to the touch.

Move ahead some 45+ years and photography has made dramatic progress; you now rarely use film, and even though the flash cube is still available on E-bay, the thought of only taking 4 pictures at a time seems impossible. I sometimes take 4 pictures in 1/2 second. But that's what was available back then, and for families around the U.S. and the globe, these photos are found in scrapbooks and picture frames as they did take pretty decent pictures. At least for its day.

Before I became interested in photography I really knew very little about it. I had never heard of the terms, Aperture, f-stop, or shutter speed. I just knew if you pointed the camera and it clicked, you had a photo. Even when I had an SLR (the ones where you can change lenses) I still had no idea what do with it besides put film in, make sure the speed was correct and start shooting. I had many lousy shots with this way of taking photos.

One form of photography I had never heard of until about 2 years ago was "infrared." Whereas I know what the outcome looks like, I still have no idea how it is done. It has something to do with removing a filter that normally blocks the infrared rays. That's all I know. The camera is retrofitted with a device and the outcomes are really cool. I do have an infrared camera but it is not used often. If you do like scenery and are willing to accept that normalcy is not going to occur with this form of photography, you will be very pleased. (The green trees become white, the blue skies are very rich, and the middle colors, well they just come together.)

The photo above was taken in downtown Chicago. I was trying out this camera for the first time down by Millenium Park---one of the problems with the camera, and this brought me back to film days, is you could not see the outcome on the screen. I actually had to wait until I got home and download the pictures! I would like to shoot more photos that are infrared; for me it provides a completely different look at common, everyday, scenes. But isn't that what photography is really all about---looking for the unexpected?

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Cooks in the kitchen.

I have never really enjoyed cooking. I think part of it stems from when I was young and overweight. I know this might sound odd, but when I finally lost weight I put a lot of the interest in food behind me. I still enjoy it, and I do see my weight fluctuate, but I suspect I knew if I spent too much time preparing food, I would probably be eating it as well.

My favorite meals are usually really easy to prepare. I love turkey sandwiches, and now with a Panini maker, it adds a completely new dimension to the “usual turkey on rye.” I also love soup. I know this sounds boring, but you can thank my Mom and Dad for this. My Mom made really good soup, and my Dad would order it a lot when he went to restaurants. It was funny, it was never hot enough for him so he would frequently send it back and ask them, once they became a common staple in the kitchen, to put it in the microwave. There have been a few times when the soup has come back and I am surprised it didn’t melt the spoon it was so hot. (I am sure the chef had something to do with that.)

One thing that always seems interesting to me is how the really famous and well-known chef’s in general are men. I am not sure why this has occurred, but for some reason it just seems to be the way it is. With some of the cooking shows having grown in popularity, there has been an introduction of more women into the world of celebrity cooking, which based upon the number of cooks you find out there, really does make sense. I am not being sexist, just look at the number of cookbooks that have been authored by women, they are great cooks.

I think part of the reason I don’t enjoy cooking involves the meal preparation. I am fine with barbecuing, but spending hours to create a meal just doesn’t interest me, and I would not expect anyone else to be interested in spending hours either. But I am wrong. People feel like cooking is an artistic expression at times---I say go for it!

The photo above is of two of our daughters and my wife preparing a birthday cake. The view from above makes it look like there is very little mess, but a wide angle would prove cooking is fun, but requires a lot of dishes, pans, and commitment. I will take a soup and sandwich please.

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Real. Talent.

After last night’s “decision” by LeBron James, it’s fitting to discuss something positive about the sporting world.

One of the highlights every summer is the 4^th of July parade that occurs in our town. As I recently wrote in “Snap. Shot.” you have the typical floats, politicians and marching bands---but the highlight every year occurs when the Jesse White Tumblers perform. Jesse White is the Secretary of State in Illinois. Unlike most corrupt politicians you find in the “Land of Lincoln,” this man seems to really bring a positive direction to the youth of Chicago.

Nearly 51 years ago, Mr. White founded the “Jesse White Tumbling Team;” he didn’t do it for political motivation, he did it to “serve as a positive alternative for children residing in the Chicago area.” (Since its inception, more than 10,700 young men and women have performed with the team.). To see these young men and women in action is flat out incredible. They work as a team, and together put on a show that takes place blazing hot weather.

The interesting thing, I have never seen Jesse White at the event; all the more impressive when you see countless politicians parading about, handing out candy, and believing we all are really happy to see them in the parade. (I have no idea who most of them are---and don’t really care.) The Jesse White Tumblers are phenomenal, and because they are named after him, he has incredible name recognition.

The team has very strict rules when you consider that every kid (6 years old and up) is from the inner city projects, must stay in school and maintain a “C” average. Most important, any form of gang or drug participation automatically removes you from the squad---I suspect this is a big deterrent if you really are committed to the team. The Tumblers have appeared at NFL, NBA and MLB games and if you saw the movie, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” they were in it as well.

So where will these kids end up? Hopefully in a different environment from where they started and proud of who they are as teammates.

Which brings us back to LeBron James.

James did not grown up with a silver spoon; his Mom was 16 when he was born, they had very little, the one difference---James had enormous talent on the basketball court. It’s too bad he couldn’t think back to these times, when he was making his “decision”—last night he broke the hearts of an entire city. He will never be welcomed back to his town—the area where he grew up and where he was understood and loved.

The photo above was taken last week at the 4^th of July parade in Glen Ellyn. I did Photoshop the picture to black and white, and kept the performers in color. For me it signified how these young men and women stand out in a very crowded field and are working as a team to better themselves. I hope one day all athletes remember the importance of team work---sure money is important, but so are the people who make you look and perform at such a higher standard. The Miami Heat have 4 people on their team at this point---you need 5 to play.

Thanks for stopping by.

W.W.J.D. Part II.

A while back I wrote about LeBron James and his big decision that was looming this summer. The hype, intrigue, and desire to have “King James” on your team were real; there has been a change in my mind, and I think in others as well. Not since the last presidential race have we witnessed such hoopla over a decision---but in this case it was based upon what the people wanted not what an athlete decided. But the difference between LeBron and the U.S. President is---one is played on a basketball court, and the other over the entire Globe. That’s a pretty big difference in playing fields.

You would have no idea this was the case based upon what has been happening since July 1^st when teams could approach players about coming to play for their team. In many cities around the country, including Chicago, the world has stopped to follow LeBron’s decision. (His TV show tonight is called, “The Decision.”)

For the first few days it was pretty exciting---he met with teams, he was weighing his options, and he was trying to find the team where he could win a championship. The excitement ended yesterday; LeBron is a joke. His ego is bigger than any athlete who has ever stepped on a court, field or ice. Remember, all it takes is one bad moment to end a career---just ask any professional athlete whose career ended earlier than expected and they’ll tell you, you go from Hero to Nero. (You’ll be fiddling in the flames baby.)

When I learned LeBron was having a TV special based upon his decision, at first I thought it was a joke. Sure he is a noteworthy athlete, and yes the NBA is part of our culture, but if you ask people their preference, they will often say, “I love college hoops…not the NBA.” That’s a problem when you are shelling out $125 million for one player and hundreds of millions more for others.

What does it really mean?

It’s going to be harder and harder for the fans to watch games---ticket prices will increase, hot dogs will be priced the same as beers and beers the same as parking and parking well, take mass transit if you can. Without the fan base, professional sports are done; yes you will have corporations who will support the teams, but that ends when cuts are made to the bottom line. (For some reason courtside seats or a suite are not as important as a stock price.)

So by the time you read this tonight, the world will be able to breath easier as LeBron will have made “his decision.” If he leaves his current team, he will be missed, if he joins the Miami Heat with their latest additions, he will be welcomed. If they don’t win the championship, the team will change their name from “Heat” to “Beat” because a team with players like they will have can do one of two things---win or lose. I will still love the Chicago Bulls, and will love them no matter what happens; I am really hoping we don’t have a King on our team---we have had one in the past---and he still holds the crown in our hearts with a statue outside the United Center. MJ took the game seriously, but he was never thought of as a joke.

The photo above was taken a few years back in Milwaukee. LeBron James put on a show and it was a great show. Deep down I hope he stays in Cleveland; he is part of the community, has added a lot to that city, and frankly they have given him a life he will not find anywhere else. When it’s all over, and he becomes an ESPN sports trivia question, he will learn there is more to life than a basketball court.

Thanks for stopping by.

Details.

Many years ago, when my brother went off to college, he came home talking about cars he would see cruising around Adams Street in Peoria, IL. He went to college at Bradley University. Gary would come home and talk about wide white wall tires, fur-lined interiors and the most memorable….hood ornaments on the front of the cars. It was not until I saw these ornaments for myself that I understood what they truly brought to the personality of a car.

When my brother got his first car, thanks to our Dad, he made sure he decorated the front of it with something that said he had arrived---on the hood was a “duck decoy.” If only for the photo, and yes we still have it somewhere, it took a very bland Nova and made it into a very hip, “Maroon Nova with a duck on the front.”

You don’t see hood ornaments very often, as I believe they are some of the easiest items to remove from a car. Look at some of the cars from long ago and the hood ornament was what identified it from others in its class. It could be a Jaguar, a woman on the Pierce Arrow, or better yet, the design on a Cadillac. Today if it is on the car, it’s just a reminder of yesterday—and yesterday in today’s cost conscious world, is not part of the scene. I suspect the cost and labor to add a hood ornament is not as popular as say, “A DVD player” for the kids.

My first car, which was a really cool Camaro, didn’t have anything affixed to it. No bumper stickers, antenna toppers, or wide white walls…nope, it was just a really cool yellow Camaro with a black interior. For those of you who have had a black interior in your car, you know how cool it looks---until you sit down on it during the summer in St. Louis. Then you realize that black does not reflect heat, it absorbs it.

Cars and personalities go way back; I can still remember when a Pontiac Trans-Am (very hot car in it’s day) had a huge sticker affixed to the hood or when “muscle cars” had decals with flames, patterns or whatever they felt identified “their car” as being different. I must admit, when you have a lime green Dodge Roadrunner with wing on the back for better airflow, it has to be easier to find in a crowded parking lot.

The photo above was from this past weekend’s parade. The woman’s head on the front of the car brought back memories that only if you had lived them, would you understand the importance of having a hood ornament on the hood. Since leaving Bradley for his career, my brother no longer has his maroon Nova, he has graduated to BMW’s, Mercedes-Benz’s, and his latest, my Mom’s old Caddy. I have not checked, but I don’t think it has a hood ornament, BUT, it does have a special key because my Mom had owned several Cadillac’s over the years---she was a returning customer. Perhaps my brother will carry on the tradition but make it his car with some furry dice, wide white walls, and the ornament that best explains who he is.

Thanks for stopping by.

Superman and other famous people who live in our town.

As far as the number of celebrities in Chicago, and its surrounding suburbs, our community would probably be fairly low on the list for the highest number. We do have a lot of important executives who probably run their companies, but as far as the really well known sports and entertainment celebrities, you won’t see them around Glen Ellyn.

If you are looking for Chicago Bull’s players, you have to live in the Northern suburbs—that’s where the Bull’s practice facility is located. Michael Jordan had a home, I assume it’s no longer his, in an area about 8 miles from where I used to live. There are hotels that are smaller than his former home---I was never asked inside so I am not sure how many rooms it had. I do know, and this was because I used to work on the Sub-Zero refrigerator business, that he had more than 25 refrigerators in the house. A combination of kitchen refrigerators and refrigerator drawers that were located in his bedroom, bathroom and other areas of the house; you need to have at least 25 refrigerators when you are the spokesperson for Gatorade, McDonald’s and other food companies. I am sure it was a tax right off then.

Thinking about hockey? Live in the city. Most of the Blackhawks are under 25 years of age---like the entire team---so they live where they play; both the game and their social life. I am not sure about baseball, soccer or other sports---but I do know many celebrities live on the Gold Coast. I have seen Oprah out and about, Mia Hamm (she used to live in the ‘burbs until they moved) and a few other stars. But all in all, if you don’t look for them, they are not hanging out at the bus stop.

Back to Glen Ellyn.

Even though we don’t have a lot of celebrities, we do have some interesting people. In the heart of our downtown we have a food pantry that serves the homeless. When I first moved to the area I was a bit surprised, but when you live here, you realize they just are part of the scenery and community. I have given money to some of them before, my first real boss said to me years ago---“Mark, be thankful you are not in need the same way they are.” I have never forgotten.

The photo above is of a local man---he is in his 40s---who dresses up like Superman for events. I would not be telling the truth if I said he was not a bit odd---there have been stories about him, of which I have no idea if they are true, but as part of the fixture of our community he is dubbed, “Superman” no matter where he goes. I have seen him at local bars, and even though he is not in character, he is still known as “Superman.” He does not have a Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, or Perry White hanging out with---it’s not easy seeing people who are down on their luck or homeless. I do know by being in our area, they are in a much better place than they would be if they were in other areas throughout Chicago. The only time it gets dicey for Superman is when the Kryptonite comes out---but then again, he just dresses up as the “man of steel" he's not real.

Thanks for stopping by.

The 5th of July.

For most people, they see July 5^th as the day after America’s birthday. For 99.99% of America, that would be an accurate assumption. Unless you happen to be my brother and I; when we were growing up, the 5^th of July was a very important day.

Early the morning after July 4^th, my brother Gary and I would get up early and go scout for the ”coolest” fireworks we could find around our neighborhood. We’re not talking about fireworks that were still “live,” we looked for the shells of ones that had been shot off. In other words, our picking up the left over shells was comparable to picking up people’s trash. What did we know, we thought it was cool and I am happy to report we have did figure out, after a couple of years, we were basic trash collectors.

As crazy as it seems, we did find some very cool shell casings. One thing it did prove was we were shooting off some really cheap fireworks while other people were putting some really great ones into the sky. Probably our greatest find were “Black cat” brand firecrackers that were “still good” as we would call them. That and “punks” that still had some “punk” on them to light fuses of fireworks. For those of you who really want to know what a “punk” is made of, here’s the answer (and to think we put the ends in our mouths)---they are made of bamboo, a brown coating of dried manure or sawdust.

We had other traditions in our household revolving around holidays. On Passover, we always set a seat for Elijah and sure enough every year he would show up at the front door. There are others, but for sure the 5^th of July will reign supreme in my memory of this important holiday.

The photo above was taken at last night’s fireworks display. For the first time I can remember, the fireworks began before 10PM. Last night, they started about a half-hour early. Thankfully we were able to view the display---it was really good---but without my brother to help me, I am sorry to report someone else picked up the empty cases.

Thanks for stopping by.

The 4th.

Of all the holidays we celebrate, I would assume none is hokier than the 4^th of July. We dress up in red, white and blue, have parades, and best of all shoot off fireworks to celebrate an event that happened nearly 225 years ago. If that’s hokey, that’s fine with me. As my kids know, the 4^th of July is my very favorite holiday---even more than Arbor Day and we know that’s a really big holiday!

When I tell people I love the 4^th of July, they will usually ask why not Thanksgiving, Valentine’s or Christmas/ Chanukah? Why? Because unlike these other holidays this is my favorite time of the year and it’s in celebration of the birth of America. That is truly a reason to celebrate.

Growing up we had some traditions on the 4^th of July; we would often buy fireworks in St. Charles (a local area) because they were not illegal like they were where we lived. We would also go to the Washington University area and watch the spectacular fireworks show---but what I remember most is having a summer dinner with my family. It would always consist of one thing no matter what the main dish happened to be--- corn on the cob. My Mom and Dad would buy fresh corn either at a nearby stand or where my Dad worked. It didn’t matter---it was always good and in abundance. But it didn’t stop there; when we ate corn, we ate it row by row. When we were done with an ear, there was not a spec of corn left on it. Yes it’s odd, but it was good and it made the corn last longer. Oh, and I didn’t use butter on the corn, always salt and pepper. Go figure.

Since we are on true confessions, I am probably the only person I know who actually told a police officer he had fireworks back at his house when he was caught---he asked me, I did and ran as fast as I could to give them all I had. I am not sure who is laughing harder, my family or that police officer---both probably still tell the story. At least I know my family does!

The photo above is from today’s parade. For me, nothing is more patriotic than a parade celebrating the birth of our country. We were very fortunate this year as we had very good weather---something that does not happen every 4^th of July. I am looking forward to next year's 4th of July; it's hard to believe it will be 25 years since the bi-centennial...I am sure we will have a lot of the same as we have every year, but that's okay by me. Because when it's your favorite holiday it usually lives up to the memories.

Thanks for stopping by.