Carp Speak Write
Friday. So I hopped on a bus, hopped on BART and arrived at the House of Shields right on time where I met Mr. E and a mutual friend for Guinness and excitement. Well, I nursed a Guinness, remembering my last outing, while they set out at a different pace. A walk then with Mr. E to meet more of the usual crew at Harrington's where I drank water, a second Guinness sitting untouched beside me on the table, the stomach gone sour. All this to say I went into the city late yesterday afternoon opting for adventure over sloth. Such is adventure here on California's left coast.
Later, after lunch. The two remaining power supplies arrived late this morning that I needed to outfit the last of the speed lights, so now I've one less excuse to avoid learning how they work. A hobby where you spend money on equipment without actually using it is, I suspect, not a hobby, although what do I know? I have batteries, chargers, speed lights, tripods and every which cable, clamp and clever camera thing and I still don't know a whit more about taking pictures. Well, I know I don't know and some say that's a start. A Zen start. Some never get out of the blocks, I'm told, some don't even pretend to try.
You don't know what you're talking about.
It's a smart proprietor who knows that of which he speaks, although evidently not smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
The weather is quite warm, by the way. I awoke around three in the morning for about ten minutes, awoke again at my usual time just after six (Ms. Emmy was butting me with her head and chewing loudly with an empty mouth signaling it was time for me to get her breakfast.) Back to sleep again in no more than another ten minutes and then getting up well after nine. Maybe this is a good plan. Sleep in until nine or whenever, walk rather than drive to breakfast (since the meters are then in force) thereby getting an early leg up on some exercise. Today I walked to lunch, it being noon, lunch time as good as any time to start a day with the papers.
Later still. OK, you get up after nine, the day does seem to fly. The Public Television News Hour that comes on at three is playing in the background, and I, stalwart I, have actually been futzing with the lights and the cameras and the rest of the stuff with interest. The day started later, but it has indeed started, so we'll lay off the “not making any progress” crap for the while. Many who claim knowledge about such things say you need to proceed at your own pace no matter the time and, although I'm with that, I do take a position it might be better if it occurs within a lifetime, and my own time is getter shorter as I carp. Speak. Write.
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