WORKING ON these old photographs tends to produce in me mixed emotions, but there's no denying that it can get me down. Too much loss. So, fortunately, yesterday, I attended a very nice family get-together, and it made me conscious of present circumstances about which I can be very glad.
More specifically, I'm happy to be a part of the lives of my niece and nephew. They're like pups or kittens, full of energy, full of fun. They seem to think that I'm a walking carnival ride, Mr. Toad's wild Uncle.
1. Most of these photos are "details" from much larger photographs taken by my father more than thirty-five years ago. At the time of this shot, Fanny and I were in High School, and my little brother, at right, had just turned six. We're somewhere in the Sierra Nevada.
2. The second photo reveals how close I was to my littlest brother back then. We used to sing to Beatles records together—Help was a favorite. Nowadays, such affection as is revealed in the photo is never seen between us, although it is manifest and abundant between me and his two wonderful kids. I call 'em weasels. Sometimes, when I'm singing or playing with young Adam, age three, I'm conscious that I had precisely the same relationship with my little brother, their "papa," a long time ago. I'm determined not to allow the relationship to become less close. But who knows.
3. Here we are near El Morro. Like my hair? Salt water does that.
4. This shot includes Fanny's fiancé, Davey-Doo, an engineer, at left. He was very successful in his field. Made big bucks up in Silicon Valley.A few years ago, he flew his super-duper stunt aircraft straight into the ground. Fanny tells me that his body was never found. She says things like that, and then, for a split second, she awaits a reaction. She'll deny it.
People are complex.
5/6. My new car. Not really new, but new for me. I get a car every ten or twenty years. This one looks damned good, if you ask me. The design team for the Chrysler 300 was led by a Haitian/Canadian named Ralph Gilles (pronounced "Jeel").
Way to go, RG.
I gave Adam and Sarah a ride in the thing yesterday, and, in the back seat, they squealed and rocked to the music: Iggy Pop's "The Passenger" and The Damned's "New Rose."
I think Sarah's gonna become a dancer, like her mom. She was doing The Monkey back there, that little weasel.
8 comments:
Hey, Chunk, Really nice writing, very cool photos, powerful sentiments--and fabulous wheels! May your niece and nephew retain their fierce child-love for you forever. I predict that they will. Or: it will evolve into a different love, but will be that same energy, transformed. And you are right: the present is priceless.
A Chrysler 300? Yep, way cool.
Love this.
Chunk, Your views are not patriotic but you buy American. That redeems you.
Chrysler 300s are made in Canada, aren't they?
Chunk buys "North American," I guess.
If "not patriotic" means unwilling to swallow the Kool Aid dished out by the current corrupt administration and swallowed obediently by the brainless theocratic multitudes, then, yes, C is not patriotic.
The most important thing a true patriot can do is stand up to his/her own government and keep them in line and in check.
You, Mr./Mrs./Ms. "Buy American", are an ignoramous dumbfuck.
Ignoramous dumbfuck?
Somehow, I like that. Think I'll use it.
It's harsh, yet gentle.
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