So, I was on my way to pick up some groceries while I was in Kihei......

Livin' the high life.

Honest, my life's motto is not, "Always seek out the decay". This was within a one-block walk of two, count 'em, two luxury hotels (one of which I was lucky enough to be staying at). This, as you can probably tell, is one of the neighbourhood's non-luxurious, gone-out-of-business hotels.

This definitely not where I am at the moment. Right now, I'm sitting in a pretty darn nice hotel room, high above beautiful downtown Victoria, B.C. How has this happened? Well, that's a darn good question. Basically, I was the only senior faculty member left around (everyone else being on summer vacation) who could attend the day-and-a-half of meetings that starts here tomorrow. So, lucky me. If you call being trapped in a hotel meeting room for a day-and-a-half lucky, that is. Still, not bad. Victoria's pretty, there'll be free food...what's not to like?

...after

Before...

Not yet.

Wandering home from the bank, I saw these twisted tree trunks and thought (obviously), "Those might make a picture," and stepped off the sidewalk to line them up. They're against a low concrete wall that separated one apartment lot from another. I was standing on a very narrow walkway that led to one of the buildings. An older gentleman had been coming toward me on the sidewalk and I'd thought that my detour would get me out of his way as he didn't look too steady. Of course, he had been headed toward the very walkway I was now blocking. Dang.

Well, he asked me if I was doing photography, and I said I was, and he remarked on what a good hobby that was, and how he used to cart around an entire suitcase (Haliburton, perhaps?) of lenses and camera bodies. So, we got talking about the miracle of the digital age, and how tiny cameras, like the dinky LX-5 I had in my hands, could do pretty much what that old suitcase full of gear of his did. And we went on talking about boxes of slides, and all the paraphernalia the film days required. He was probably in his early/mid-eighties. I'm 58, soon to be 59, so not that much younger than him. To make that obvious, I've got shoulder-length white hair (and the saggy facial characteristics that go with my incredible chronological advancement), so imagine my surprise when, as we were wrapping up our nostalgic conversation, he said to me, "Well, you're growing up in an amazing age, so enjoy it". "Growing up"?!? Made my day.

Do a little fencing. Do a little landscape photography. Just another day.

I don't know how things are where you live, but, around here? Road maintenance is everywhere! Pick a main road, any main road, and you'll find crews chomping up the old pavement and laying down new.

O.K., "Rolling Stone" won't be calling anytime soon, but...it was a heck of a good time listening to Alpha Yaya Diallo.

No, he's not laying down his weapon. He was trying to poke her toes before she could poke him. She won.

Yet another incredible dancer. He was doing one-handed hand-springs at one point.

Meanwhile, in the day-to-day world, tomorrow it's back to my day job. Good thing it's a fun one.

Told you there'd be more.

So, spent my Friday evening taking photos at a benefit for CNIS. Heck of a good time. Good music, good dancing, good cause. I've probably mentioned it before, but, if you've got a few spare bucks just gathering dust, this would be a good place to send them.

This young woman danced and sang and put big smiles on the faces of everyone present. You'll be seeing more of her.

Which is where I'll be on Monday.

Meanwhile, on a beach far, far, far away...

Speaking of which, my favourite remark on Osama's demise comes from a local comedian, "What do you bet Osama's foot washes up on B.C.'s shoreline?"

You might have to be local to fully appreciate it.

If you get the chance, go see "Bill Cunningham: New York". He's a very interesting guy. Which means, of course, so's the movie. Cunningham's life has been consumed by fashion, but the movie hasn't. The movie is about a man who found his reason for living early in life, and he's lived for it, night and day, ever since. Money doesn't motivate him. Fame - his or that of others - doesn't interest him. He takes pictures of people who show a sense of personal style. That's it.

Really. Go see it. You'll be impressed.

And, if you live in New York, watch for the old guy in the cheap blue jacket, riding a bicycle, wielding an old Nikon FM (I'm guessing). He probably won't take your picture, but wave anyway.