I watched a lot of TV in my youth. Most of it was crap, but the one bit of crap I managed never to get into was the soaps (Guiding Light and All My Children were favourites among my peers). I did try to like these shows (as opposed to, say, trying to play the violin or read Proust), but the glacial speed at which stuff happened, or didn't happen, from episode to episode defeated me (I guess I would have given up on Proust, too).
And why am I talking about this, you might ask? My life right now — more specifically, my real estate life — feels like it belongs in the 2 p.m. Monday - Friday slot on CBS. Subtle shifts and nuances, yes. Major plot developments? Nada. Rien de rien. What's worse, I'm starting to let this real estate stalemate affect things that have no good reason to be on hold: novel writing, dog training, course planning, triathlon practice (ok, I haven't seriously considered doing a triathlon, but maybe if I weren't in limbo-land, I would!).
Now, what does any of this have to do with the photos in this post? Something, I'm sure, but it might take a few dozen episodes for the answer to be revealed. Stay tuned.
"Try to look grim," I said. So he did.
Absolutely.
It's a wonder-ful life.
North Pole
Garbage Day
1968:
Student Riots in Paris, Assassination of Martin Luther King,
Vietnam, Trudeaumania,
Fletchers Fabricare
I'm dreamin' ...
Art in Heaven
A Few Shades of Grey
I've discovered that my camera has an x-ray function. This could prove useful.
No comments:
Post a Comment
What say you?