Posts Tagged: blackwhite

in a basket.

Bike Basket Columbus Circle

“It is the part of a wise man to keep himself today for tomorrow, and not venture all his eggs in one basket.
—Sancho Panza

run, run, run, run, run.

timessquare-RIP

i think i once heard this line attributed to Lou Reed, it went something like, “my bullshit is worth more than other people’s diamonds.” without wasting a bunch of time googling the phrase, i will guess it was during one of his contentious back and forths with Lester Bangs. this sort of sums up the Lou Reed I love. self-important, self-effacing and selfish in his music. selfish in the sense that it is overindulgent, off-putting, and at times pure noise. wonderful, nasty, pure noise. that noise that splattered the paint that formed picture that his words described. to some weird kid from Kentucky, his work exemplified everything i ever attributed to New York City. before the Ramones, before Patti Smith, Blondie, Television, Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground had me longingly wondering about the filth of the city, it’s alleyways of junkies, cocksuckers, cookers, lovers, artists and mainliners. that city sounded like the most frighteningly fantastic place on the earth. i knew it was hard being a man, living in a garbage pail. Lou told me that, but if some girl would just show up, Shelly, Candy, Stephanie, Jane, Jackie or Sister Ray, hell, it’d be alright.

the city, at some point, mainly due to pukes like Rudy Giuliani deciding that it needed scrubbing and sanitizing and turned into Disney world, changed shape from the wild decades of the 60s, 70s, 80s and lost some of that sleaze that the V.U. seemed to not-so-subtly hint at. but that being said when i step foot on the sidewalk there, in my head, it’s always contrasty black and white, i’m wearing wrap-around black shades, my collar is turned up and i searching for something, anything somewhere between white light and white heat. Lou Reed is New York City, his words, doo wop riffs and feedback are the haze that hangs over the island. everyone should have an Elvis and i’ve had more than one, including Elvis, i guess, Lou Reed you are one. now, i’m gonna do something that i do at least once every week, i am going to put on Foggy Notion and when I hear Lou chuckle, i am going to smile, ‘cept this time i will swallow the lump in my throat as i do it.

we can call it a friendly.

you can call it friendly

soccer, er, football has something called “a friendly” which is somewhat foreign to American sport fans who do not follow the game. imagine playing a game that doesn’t count for anything other than warm-up or practice, maybe as an exhibition or tryout even for some players. those are “friendlies.” problem is, most you compete in, watch or follow are rarely that friendly because when you keep score of anything, there’s a winner and loser and losing doesn’t make one feel very friendly.

 

murphy’s law and photography…

Living on the Ball

oh, as it relates to having a camera, snapping the shutter and all that, it stands to reason (and don’t think about this too hard because you will go mad) that kabillions of great images are missed daily because we didn’t bother getting the camera from the car for whatever reason. when i think of some of history’s greatest moments I am always thankful in many instances someone was there with a camera and decided to “click.”

anyway, that is a windy opening for me saying that the boy scored his first Varsity goal as a Freshman and I didn’t get a picture of it. call it lazy, call it me having too many dark, blurry 10 p.m. shots from too far away to have much confidence in shooting these night time matches, either way, i didn’t get it. but i will always have it in my mind as will he. it wasn’t anything particularly breathtaking as a soccer play. the keep had a deflected ball coming at him from on high, really high about 15 yards straight up and the boy went at the keeper and he bobbled it and the boy put his head over it and pounded it down at the floor of the net. but it wouldn’t have been any better if it was any different. it was his first and so for today, it was his best. and in the end, who needs a picture of that? it’s living inside. us, both. i know how hard he has worked to try and make a difference on his team.

when required, get on your horse, ride.

on the run out.

soccer weekend ahead. Tennessee style. trophy expectations, they have them. pack a bag, grab a drink, pull up your socks and to the goal.

what happens next?

guess what's next.

you don’t have to be glaring into a crystal ball to know that if you work hard for something, eventually it will come to you…that thing you are always in hot pursuit of, will arrive at your feet. but can you possess it long enough to…

 

bring it down.

bring it down

settle, turn and get ready to use your left. if you aren’t stuck to deep, shoot with authority or put it back post, there should be someone on their horse getting there just in time…

 

 

that’s a young man’s game…

to the box

Labor Day weekend generally means a ton of Fall soccer. that means get your damned wheels on. continue to make the runs even if you don’t get the ball every time, because sooner or later, you will and then you have to shake them off your shoulder and go to the box. then, of course, leave something there.

 

make the most of your time.

the run.

when you get your opportunity, you don’t waste it, you make your run. hope you find a finish. soccer is life.

lafayette #19 runs on the corner kick.

 

you may need an umbrella.

under your umbrella.

rain or shine, darkness or light, pack yours for recluse and potential weather of extreme-style conditions.