Memories of another day.

"She was like, oh my God, this is my song
I've been listenin' to the radio all night long
Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is
She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance
'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand
Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out.

This weekend I was back in my hometown of St. Louis, MO. Well, actually Chesterfield a Western suburb; a suburb that has gone from Podunk to pretty darn large as far as population in the area. My son told me Chesterfield is now the second largest community in the St. Louis area. Hard to believe only 45 years ago I literally learned that "chickens do run around with their heads cut off" as I watched a farmer dismember their heads waiting for the bus to go to school.

Certainly one of the best things about coming home, is the unexpected look of seeing people you know, or think you know, and when you learn you do, having a long lost conversation with them. The "six degrees of separation" sometimes are just amazing. We've all had them, and that's what life is truly all about.

Yesterday, as I was catching up on some e-mails at the St. Louis Bread Company (known as Panera outside St. Louis) I saw someone I knew; we started to catch up, she made a comment that someone knew me, and suddenly someone broke into the conversation letting me know that individual (who knew me) was his brother in law. Nearly two hours later, I looked at my watch, knowing I needed to get back to see my Dad who would likely be waking up from a long sleep. (He sleeps a lot.) Oh by the way, yes I still wear a watch!

I learned that his brother in law, I was aware of the story but kept listening, had re-married someone we used to hang around with so many years ago. She was divorced, he was as well, and there you have it--they just got married. Fate has a weird way of finding its way back into life. If that's not weird enough, the woman has a twin, and one of my fraternity brothers now dates her twin sister. Not crazy enough for you? The woman my friend married, she and I went on a date together back in the 70s---my first concert, the Beach Boys and Chicago. She doesn't remember it I am sure, but I do.

There are many memories that come forward when I cross the Missouri state line. I was commenting to my Dad that when I drive to his house, from Chicago, it's like a road map has been laid out before me and I am on auto pilot for all 300+ miles. I know the stops, the scenery where I have taken photos along the way---mile marker 212 on Highway 55 has a barn that has now given way to the pressures of ridiculous weather---and then suddenly I pull into his driveway.

When I walk into the house where I was raised, I see photos galore; my Mom, brother and sister, my kids, nieces, nephews, and so many more. I am very thankful my Dad saw the benefits in taking pictures---whereas he never was bitten by the bug---he knew their importance.

Thanks Dad.

The photo above is of my Grandson Brandon. When I mentioned to my son I was wanting to take a few pictures, he paused. I knew where this was going. He said, "Just a few Dad...we have plenty." Saying you have plenty of photos to a photographer is like telling someone who has been sitting all day waiting for a song to come on the air that they've heard it enough---it's an addiction. One that I have---and for me these photos will provide those long lost images many years from now of memories of another day.

Thanks for stopping by.