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Outside of the Convention Center, where the conference was being held, was this sign welcoming all of the conference-goers. Hilariously, it appeared immediately before the graphic in this picture:
Having grown up in the 60's and 70's it grabbed my attention, though I never took to the drug culture in those days. Out of (my) curiosity we decided to pay one of these a visit. It was most depressing. Though the sign outside advertised that what was sold inside was for medical and recreational use, upon entering we found a clinical, sterile atmosphere with people sitting on benches against a cinder block wall waiting to go into a door where the product was sold. Nothing on the walls, no color (except puke green). Very depressing...
Though there was a lot to capture at the museum, the number of people milling about greatly limited opportunities. This is one of the few keepers...
As mentioned when this Denver series got started, the reason we were up there was for a meeting of the GFOA (Government Financial Officer's Association). Often these conferences have a reception in an interesting venue, and this time it was located in a flight museum.
The picture above is a 4-shot panorama. For me it's always been fun to be around airplanes, and though it was crowded this was no exception.
A few posts ago it was mentioned that, even in a small, nondescript town like Memphis, Texas, some interesting things can happen. In fact I'll go a step further and maintain that if you are where you're supposed to be, even in a place like that, your life will be full, satisfying and replete with the right kind of adventure.
Not sure that this is the kind of adventure just described, but I learned soon after moving to Memphis that I was terribly allergic to cotton dust. And in the fall, when the gin across the highway went into full gear, my life became a misery of used tissues, near-constant nosebleeds and sinus infections. At times even while teaching class blood would spontaneously gush forth, much to the amusement of my students. Very fortunately, after a couple of visits to the local doctor (Dr. Clark, who also happened to be president of the School Board at the time), I was prescribed the magic bullet of Ornade, which kept the condition in check.
The summer of '84, after my first year at Memphis, I went on a journey around the country in my Olds Delta 88. I went to the east coast first, then migrating to the upper midwest where I visited an uncle in Illinois, Jon and Betty Mayer in Michigan (story from which was posted 08/17), and my grandmother in Kansas City. It was a good trip, and free of the tortuous allergy suffered in Memphis.
About four days after returning to Memphis I awoke one night to discover that a good portion of my pillowcase was covered with blood and realized that I'd forgotten to start the Ornade. Too late now, however, as blood was draining at a fair pace. Remaining in bed, I tried the usual remedies to stem the flow, to no avail.
After a few minutes without success I thought, Well, no use getting everything around me here all bloody, so I went into the bathroom, sat down in front of the toilet and allowed the blood to drain in there. And when I say drain I don't mean drip, drip, drip - it was flowing in a stream, turning the water a crimson red. Soon enough I began to feel dizzy and light headed, even though I was sitting on the floor. This was getting serious! Then the thought occurred to me that I might well bleed out and die, and I sure as heck didn't want to be discovered dead with my head drooping into a toilet bowl. Thus motivated, I decided to get up while I could, hold a rag to my nose so as not to bloody my car, and drive to get help. In a desperate measure I took an Ornade on the way out, knowing that it might take a while to kick in.
In those days Memphis had a hospital just off of Hwy 287 a short distance north of town. (In fact, after this hospital closed a few years later it was mentioned in Time magazine as part of a growing trend of such closures in rural America.) I pulled in, parked next the emergency room, and approached the door.
Now you would think that a hospital emergency room would be open to the public, but the door was locked that night, perhaps as a security measure because it was about 1:30 a.m. I knocked firmly, but there was no answer. I knocked even more firmly, but again there was no answer. To the left of the door was one of these narrow windows allowing a peek inside; from there I could see the shadow of a nurse moving around inside, but my attempts to get her attention had so far failed. I knocked yet again with no answer.
I was getting weaker by the moment and something had to be done, so I rared back my arm and slammed against that window with my fist, shattering it. This time I might get somewhere! Sure enough, the nurse came out and briskly approached the door to see what the ruckus was about. Fortunately the window was one of those that had chicken wire sandwiched in, so it stayed in place but the cracks could easily be seen where my fist made contact.
The nurse didn't seem to notice the damage and opened the door. Upon seeing the blood I was ushered into an examining room and told her the whole story. (There was a little concern, however, when she asked me how to spell "Ornade".) She went through the usual tilt-the-head-back remedy type stuff, but none of it worked. Finally the medicine began to kick in and it slowed to a trickle, then a drip. In spite of my weakness I knew the worst was over and just left, sleeping off the night on a freshly-changed pillow case.
Even though the hospital is long-closed down, the building is still there and it occurs to me that maybe I should stop by sometime to see if the glass next to that door still has the evidence of that night's adventure...
On the other side of the capitol building was the chambers for the Colorado House of Representatives. Peeking through a window I was able to captured this representative's desk - obviously a fun-loving, whimsical type who had a passion for education or school-related projects.
I can't be in a place such as this, at the entrance to a House chambers, without remembering an incident in Washington back in the 1980's. One day I was standing near the closed door of the House chambers in the capitol building, just looking around, when suddenly I heard a flurry of activity. Turning to look I saw a herd of important people in suits headed my way, but I just stood there and gawked, not know who it was or what the excitement was about. When in a few seconds they got to where I was - right in front of the doorway - one of the suits frantically gestured for me to move out of the way, saying that another suit needed to get in there NOW to vote on a bill.
I don't remember seeing cameras around, but heard on the national news later that day that some representative was almost late to vote, but because he got there on time a bill passed regarding amnesty for illegal aliens. Thus, I was an unwitting witness to - and almost got in the way of - history.
On another trip visiting Washington, also in the '80's, I remember being across the street from the White House in front of the Treasury Department just walking around looking at things. Then suddenly out of nowhere a guy walks along and stops right next to me, not five feet away from where I was standing. That wouldn't have been anything remarkable were it not for the fact that he was surrounded by a phalanx of cameras and reporters with microphones. Turns out it was none other than Brian Mulroney, Prime Minister of Canada, who had just visited Reagan and was on his way to wherever he was going next. Still not knowing who he was and what the fuss was about, I moved over for a better look and ended up just behind him, no more than three feet away, looking into the lenses of all those cameras. Had to have ended up on TV that night, but like I said I didn't learn until later who the guy was or why he had reporters following him everywhere...
Got these after moving one level up from where yesterday's post was captured. Same shot with different focus point below:
There is something majestic about the word "Senate" that lends itself and the institution to high circumstance and dignity. Turns out the word comes from the ancient Romans and, according to Wikipedia, literally means "Assembly of Elders"; it was a given that the oldsters of a population are wiser and able to make decisions that are just, fair, and for the common good. Thus, it is no surprise that the doorway leading to this august body is adorned as you see it here.
Being a weekday while school was still in session - and while the legislature was not in session - left the place pretty much empty. Occasionally I had to wait for a tourist or two to wander off the frame, but not often. Basically I had all the time I wanted to set up for shots and experiment with adjustments.
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A couple of posts or so ago I described my first impressions of Memphis, and how it came to be that I ended up making the town my home. For two years I lived there while teaching high school classes in Spanish and science. Though it was mighty rough for a guy like me having such a high-profile job in a town like Memphis, I look back fondly at my time there in spite of the crucible that it was. It was a (somewhat) maturing experience.
One of the big reasons the place was great was because my apartment was in the back corner of a quadriplex on the corner of Peachtree and 16th Street. There was a greater degree of privacy there, as not a single window faced a street. On top of that, I never had a telephone for the entire two years I lived there, and it was many months before I even bought my first television set. Since introverts gain strength through solitude, by the end of my time there my sense of contentment and well-being were really getting back on track after the disaster of my graduate year at SFA.
And it was not without an adventure or two...next Memphis story, appearing on August 28th: The Nosebleed.
Many was the time when I took a picture like this, only to find out during post that it wasn't perfectly centered. Sometimes it was because there was a crowd and people were competing for the same spot. Other times it was because to my eye the shot was centered, but the lens captured the light coming in just below eye level. Many times it was because I was with a group and simply in a hurry.
Well, this time it was going to get done right. I worked from three or four steps up a staircase located directly beneath the dome. While ensuring that my balance wasn't going to be compromised, I positioned the Big Cahoona for the shot while looking through the viewfinder. This was the best pick out of the seven or eight that were shot.
Same subject from a more oblique angle below:
There was only one time that I dared to stand in the middle of a large downtown street to take a picture, and that pic was featured in this post from Austin. It was taken early, before the traffic got a good start.
Here in Denver, however, it was midday and negotiating traffic was something of a headache. Didn't lack for opportunity, though, as can be seen in this 9-post series on downtown reflections. So have I gotten this out of my system? Think so...
A closer view of this abstract reflection is seen below.
A couple of posts ago I told the story of how Jon and Betty Mayer ended up in a place like Memphis, Texas, from central Michigan. The story of how I got there was quite different, not least because I'd lived in West Texas and already knew the terrain quite well.
In fact on my many trips from Nacogdoches to Amarillo to earn college money I distinctly remember driving through Memphis on Hwy 287 thinking, "What a dreary little town...I feel sorry for anyone that has to live here." This is a dangerous way of thinking, as there may be plans just for you in a place that you don't like looking from the outside in!
I was taking a Spanish class called "Independent Studies" during the first summer session of 1982, on the second floor of the liberal arts building there at SFA. Ignacio Muñoz and Vivian Gruber were my advisors and mentors, and my assignment was to help teach a graduate class to public school teachers who were studying to acquire their bilingual certification. Plus I ran the language lab for an hour each day. It was a breeze, and one of the best summers of my life partly because those assignments were so fulfilling.
One day I was looking at the bulletin board checking on job postings, as I was due to graduate that summer. One stood out for me because it offered a high school Spanish position as well as some science classes. That fit perfectly because I was about to graduate with a double major, in Spanish and biology. I tore the little tab off and carried it home to make a phone call to the Memphis Independent School District.
I spoke to Neil Hindman, the high school principal, and he readily agreed to see me for an interview. On the appointed day I made the 450-mile drive, leaving early to arrive in time for the afternoon interview. As I got close enough to see the town I thought, Oh no, it can't be the same little town I didn't even like to look at on my drives to Amarillo! Indeed it was.
Because it was summer and because my old Olds Delta 88 did not have a functioning air conditioner, I carried my dress clothes and changed in a gas station restroom after arriving. Mr. Hindman et al hired me on the spot...I had a job! And I felt a good vibe about it.
Very unfortunately, however, I chose to stay in Nacogdoches to begin work on a graduate degree (for all the wrong reasons) and called them to decline the offer. They were disappointed but said OK.
To boil it down to one statement, my graduate year at SFA in '82-'83 was a disaster and by the end of that spring I again needed a teaching job. Texarkana offered me a position, but the vibe wasn't right and I turned it down. Finally one day I picked up the phone and called Mr. Hindman and asked if the previous year's position was open. Indeed it was, and before a minute was up I was given a start date.
The rest is history, as they say - very soon after beginning teacher inservice I met Jon and Betty and learned that there surely was a Plan for me to be there the year before, in light of the void that they felt all year and the disaster that was my year in graduate school. Better late than never, I suppose! Lesson learned...
A couple of blocks southwest of the capitol was this building offering a unique columnar reflection. Note that some of the interior office lights are on toward the upper right.
Moved closer for a different perspective, seen below:
Being able to move slowly and at my own pace really helped. When a promising shot like this happened by I would stop and look, sometimes backtracking a few steps, to make the most of the opportunity. Almost all of these shots were captured in exposure-compensated three-shot brackets.
As mentioned in yesterday's post, my good friends Jon and Betty Mayer were from central Michigan and moved from there to teach in the Memphis Independent School District down here in Texas. It was how they got here that provides interest.
Memphis is located in the southeastern panhandle of Texas, a community of almost 3,000 at the time (early '80's). A lot of people went through there, being situated alongside highway 287 between Fort Worth and Amarillo, but not many stopped because there just wasn't much to it unless you had to get gas. It was just another in a string of nameless towns along the highway.
And it was no doubt for that reason that they had a time recruiting teachers. Well, up there in Michigan Jon and Betty saw something about the district and decided to check it out by looking the town up on the map. They loved water sports, and when they saw the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River running just south of it, represented by a nice blue line, they thought, Hey at least we'll have a place to go canoeing when we need to get away. They placed a phone call and were hired on the spot, the both of them.
It's fun to imagine their reactions when they got to the Fork and discover that, instead of water, it was nothing but a riverbed covered with a crust of salt! It only had water a few days out of the year.
I'm sure glad they ended up there, though. They made the most out of it and Memphis enjoyed one of the best science teachers they'd ever seen in the person of Jon Mayer. And Betty was a hard worker who cared very much about her job and the kids. She added a multicultural element too, as she was Indian (from India). An awesome, very spiritually-minded couple that I hope to see again on the "other side of the veil", as they say...
My wife and I were talking today on the way to work and I was reminded of some very good friends of mine in my single days, Jon and Betty Mayer. They taught with me in the Memphis Independent School District, and we became very close in the span of the year we were together.
But it wasn't in Memphis that I had my most memorable experience with them. By the summer of 1984 they had moved back to Michigan, where they were from. Jon was a fantastic high school teacher - one of the best I've met - and Betty taught sixth grade English at the junior high. But Memphis just didn't cut it with them, so they took a job at a private school back in the Mount Pleasant area. And it was there that I stopped that summer on a drive in my Olds Delta 88, hopscotching around the country from one place to the other that had a friend and a pad.
I stayed with Jon and Betty for three or four nights, and they made sure there were interesting things to do during our time together. We went up to Mackinac Island, then on to Canada after going through Sault Ste. Marie. It was there that I experienced the urge to just keep on driving until we reached the top of the world, or at least the Arctic Circle. We didn't make it that far, instead stopping at a beach on Lake Superior, the only one I've liked because there was pea gravel instead of sand, fresh water instead of salt water, not much wind, and no evidence of creatures from the deep. We couldn't swim because, naturally, the water was much too cold, but we enjoyed the pristine air and beauty that was on all sides.
But I digress. The most memorable occasion with them was another evening when we visited some good friends of theirs for barbecued hamburgers and visiting time. I was not prepared for what I was about to see but, knowing Jon and Betty, these were just the kinds of friends they would have. It turns out that they were a married couple in their forties with an adopted son that was home for the summer from college. And the reason they had to adopt, I surmised, was because they both were severely physically handicapped. The dad had polio as a child, which left him very much disfigured, and the mom was noticeably afflicted with cerebral palsy.
The most amazing part about them and the visit, however, was that they possessed an amazing God-given spirit. The son cooked the hamburgers - I remember that he was studying to be a pastry chef, and hope he realized his dreams - and after eating we sat down in the living room to talk a while. It was then that I experienced the amazing transformation from trying to avoid noticing their handicaps and disfigurements to communicating with the spirit alone. Before five minutes of conversation was over it was soul to soul; I was looking into their eyes as I spoke and listened, completely forgetting about any physical deficiencies they may have had and experienced the most wonderful fellowship ever in a small-group setting. It was amazing...something I will never forget.
Denver is a very well-kept city where the garbage is kept off of the streets, they take recycling quite seriously, and the homeless don't bother you even if they're close. I walked adjacent to an encampment downtown and didn't feel like a target at all. They had tents and appeared quite at home (which they were, literally I suppose), talking amongst themselves as visiting neighbors do in the suburbs. Unfortunately there was some open drinking but they left no trash strewn around that I could see.
This is an image that ended up being more abstract. In post capture I was conflicted on whether to zero in on just the reflection, or include the surroundings as well for context. Difference can be seen below...
Often is the time that I've seen reflections off of buildings wishing that I weren't in a car, or at work, or in a place where taking pictures was impossible. Very thankfully while were were in Denver on vacation I had a few hours, while the girls were out shopping, to do nothing but walk around and capture nothing but reflections in this great city. After a bit I ended up with a couple hundred images, which were winnowed down to the posts that you will see in this series. Some are fairly straightforward such as this one, and some are more abstract such as the shot in tomorrow's post.
Had my eye on this ever since arriving at the zoo, and got the shot I wanted on our way out.
This was our second visit to the Denver Zoo, the first being back in 2006. Must opine that this is not one of the better zoos out there - I would even rank the Houston Zoo above this one. And if you're in the area there's no zoo that's better than the one at Colorado Springs.
Now for one of my wife's favorites, taken of this purple-ballish flower seen here and there in the park...full shot below from which the above was derived:
Funny the things you remember from the past. I'm just about 59 now, and remember distinctly when my friend Brent, when we were teenagers, said that you shoot waterfalls at 1/10th of a second. Though it can differ, that shutter speed is always where I start in shots like this, whether indoors or out.
Now for more birds. This is something I printed at home, then posted in front of my cubicle. Perfect greeting for a bureaucrat...
This somewhat happier-looking monkey tops off the primates for this zoo trip...
Primates, being the most intelligent, are sometimes the saddest to watch in a zoo; they get bored easily and go a little nuts being confined for such long periods. Some zoos, however, do a pretty good job of providing enough space and companionship.
My daughter Allison really gets nervous around Canada geese. Mom and pop followed us around for a bit with Little One tagging along, exploring and much less cautious (hostile?) towards humans. This is a shot of the little guy, with mom closely watching from a short distance away.
Naturally the reptiles were the most captivating to me, as they are any time we visit a zoo. This little guy was in just the right position, but beat a retreat once the lens got closer, as can be seen below. I kept snapping away, zeroing in on the awesome detail of its beautiful scales:
Speaking of lizards, one of our new favorites on TV now is Dr. K's Exotic Animal ER, on NatGeo Wild. The exotics brought in for treatment are interesting, but we've concluded that even more so are the owners that bring them in. Takes a unique soul to want to care for these breeds, and in some cases save them from extinction. A plausible endeavor, but unfortunately tragedy comes in when they are not prepared and the animal suffers.
As in so many zoos, in Denver they allow the peacocks to run around and do pretty much what they want. This one decided to hide in some brambles a distance away from us, but that was no match for the awesome reach of the workhorse 200mm lens, which equals 300mm because of the 1.5 crop factor.
A couple of other poses below:
Guess how many? In this case you'll have to count the legs and divide by four...
Allison and I snuck off to the zoo one day while the wife was in accounting meetings. Ever since this post from the Denver Zoo some years ago (picture taken with the FujiFilm s7000) I've been looking for a chance to capture a better shot of just the stripes. Thanks to the Big Cahoona and its workhorse 200mm lens think the shot below is slightly closer to the goal. Interesting that it was here in Denver again, as since the earlier post we've visited a number of other zoos.
Finally, as a parting shot, this was probably my favorite pic of the entire lot captured at Hoop Creek. The beginnings of a moderate snow fall can be seen as white streaks blowing in from the upper-left of the image.
As stated earlier, our taking the time to scope this place out, climb a snow hill, and rough it with a short hike through the slush was entirely worth our efforts - Allison got some real snow experience, we saw an awesome (albeit small) waterfall, and I managed to capture a few keepers in the process.
(See also this post, which is very similar from a different part of Colorado.)
