This Building

You know, the one in New York:


Yeah, that one.

Bank and Bus

On Bowery and Canal:


No, there aren't any pagoda puns to be had here. Just a little alliteration.

Emerging

From the fountain in Washington Square Park:


I went to the Pompeii exhibit at the Discovery Times center today. They're also running a Harry Potter exhibit. What they're showing, I have no idea. Like I don't know if there's props, or the giant makeup case they use for Gary Oldman. Either way, the disparity in the size and the age of the crowds was quite something.

You'll have to excuse me now, I have to stick a needle in my lizard.

Up Against The Wall

Is as good a place as any to write a quick note:


And no, I didn't take this because she has a nice ass, is wearing a see-through shirt, and holding the pen cap in her mouth. Those were just fringe benefits of pushing the button that makes the shutter go "click."

I Forgot His Name

They came in droves, each one with a camera, every camera digital. They were young and old, white and black, tattooed and unadorned. They were on the Great B&H Photo Scavenger Hunt (I added the "Great"), and were in Washington Square Park to scavenge photos of people. Someone told me that there were different categories of people, such as a hot dog vendor, a musician, and I don't know what politically correct category they would have put him in. "Street Person?"

I don't remember what I was shooting when I saw people gathering around him with their cameras. I, as I did in a photo I posted a few days earlier, took a few steps back and took pictures of the photographers shooting him. He sat on the bench enjoying the attention, when he noticed me and said, "That's an old one!"

I stepped forward amidst the sea of shooters and sat close to him. "What's your name," I asked, since I doubt anybody else did (the self-important hypocrite that I am). He told me his name which I've since forgotten, and I offered to shake hands, which we did (which made me feel even more like a self-important hypocrite, and I reminded myself to chop off my hand once I got home).

"Can I take your picture," I asked. I knew it was a silly question, but I figured I'd be formal about it.

"Look around!" he said, gesturing to the crowd around him. "I'm featured on so-and-so's blog (yet another thing I forgot)." We went on and made small talk about a vintage store in the neighborhood that has cameras in the window.

I was the closest to him of all the photographers. This was the last picture I took of him, having gotten even closer for my last shot. I left feeling all haughty and high-minded that I seemingly got this "exclusive" access, or maybe that I was willing to get so close to the, "Street Person." You can see me in the reflection of his sunglasses, there on the left. You can see my hat. Heck, here's a detail of it taken at full size:


In the end, I said goodbye and headed back home. I didn't cut off my hand, and I didn't give the man anything for his troubles. Hell, I didn't even have the common courtesy to remember his name.

I just took his photo to put it on my blog, exploiting him in the hopes that people will look at it and give me the credit for taking a good picture.

But that's in our job description, right?

Pagoda on Canal

Street, that is:


Some might think it unusual that a pagoda would be sitting on top of an otherwise nondescript building, but not in New York City's Chinatown, which has been growing ever since the middle of the 19th century. It is a rich and proud tradition that has been carried on from generation to generation, each steeped both in the culture of their homeland and this place called New York City. However, some might think it unusual that the man who owns the pagoda is named Abraham. It's Abe's Pagoda.

Get it?

ABE'S PAGODA!

You know, it's entries like this that make it all worthwhile.

Topless, Jacketless...

And a guy pointing his camera at me instead of at the topless naked painted chick:


A topless naked painted chick in Times Square in the middle of a weekday? Why not!

A Real Headscratcher

In Washington Square Park:


Any thoughts? Ideas? Do you scratch your left ear with your right hand? Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight?

Working Out

By any means necessary, in SoHo:


I wish I could figure a way to have more contrast between this dude and the background. Well, maybe I'll experiment with actual printing in the darkroom and see if I can't finagle something there. Otherwise, I really like this one. And this was the only shot I was able to get off. This dude was exercising all over the street corner, much to the chagrin of a pushcart peanut vendor, and they had been having words. Actually, I was just hanging around waiting to take pictures in case a fight broke out when this dude jumped up to do his pull-ups. After that I left, possible fight be damned. I just think the exerciser was happy to be displaying his manliness not only to the vendor, but to the ladies strolling up and down Broadway. And who could blame him?

Naptime

In Washington Square Park:


No, this wasn't taken today, though I'm sure people outside didn't have the energy to do much else today. And no, I'm not complaining about the heat. I'm sure I've written on this thing before about how I despise people who complain about the weather. It's summer. It's supposed to be hot. Admittedly, it's pretty fucking hot today, but it's July for crying out loud.

It's all good, yo.

Catching a Glance

In SoHo:


I like this guy. I like his purse, not that I'd ever wear one. Then again, I'm pretty sure he was speaking some kind of European language, so that makes it okay. Also, he's of a certain age, so that's okay too.

Then again, he might be a raging lemon partier.

If you don't know what a lemon party is...well, you go look it up.

Shooting the Shooters

In Washington Square Park:


This was part of a big B&H photo scavenger hunt I just happened to happen upon yesterday. I'll probably post more about this later on, since I still have more film to develop. Oh, and I also made an actual print of this image in a darkroom (yes, I'm getting into that sort of thing now). And let me tell you, there is no substitute for real darkroom printing when compared to the scanning negatives. It's making me think I've been going about this photo thing all wrong. Hell, I'll post the scanned print below. I'm not posting the highest res scan, but I think you can even see below the difference in sharpness between the two. Like in the small details, like that woman's hair on the left, the one with the glasses who's checking her camera, the one with the striped shirt. That one. And in other places. I've been doing myself a disservice.


Maybe you can't tell from a quick glance or two, but trust me.

Oh boy.

City of Cranes

Downtown:


Old is replaced by new. Though in this case, we still would have had the old if circumstance hadn't intervened. And whether we like or dislike the finished product that's put on those sixteen acres downtown, they'll be old friends one day.

The big news lately has been that Mars Bar finally closed, or was closed by the health dept, in advance of the building being torn down next month. All of the hip, "save old New York" people are crying and saying that NYC is finally dead. I even read in a blog by one of these people where the person states that, "all my favorite places are closing."

Now I've posted on this blog several times about how I feel about the changing city, and how I feel about the complainers who complain about our changing city, but for the first time, I've realized that it's absolutely selfish to want things to stay the same. "All my favorite places are closing." Isn't it the height of self-indulgence to want everything to stay the same just for you? Now I've said before that I'm not thrilled with all the changes to the city either, but I've come to accept them. I've come to accept that I've lived here long enough so that I had "my city" and my time. Then again, I'm still here and this still is my city.

For every old fart and late 20s early 30s fart who moved here a few years ago and wishes everything would stay in some kind of 1970s time capsule and that nothing would be torn down and nobody would die, there's hundreds of young people moving here for the very first time thinking that New York City is the greatest place on earth (which it is), and in 20 years, they'll be bitching about how all their old haunts from 2011 are now being knocked down for condominiums or windfarms or soylent green processing plants or god knows what.

And yes, I know that the closing of Mars to be replaced by a high rise has nothing to do with the project downtown, but it's my blog and if I want to discuss both in one post, I'm a gonna do it, by gum.

So yes, as I've said before...Cities are always going to change, and the longer you stay in one city, the more it's going to change. And yeah, sometimes change can hurt, but that doesn't mean it ain't gonna happen. Just be thankful you had what you had, and hopefully you didn't take it for granted. And instead of bitching and crying, why not look ahead. If that place and those people meant so much to you, pick up the phone. Keep in touch. Keep those bonds tight if you mean what you say. If you don't, then what was it all really for?

Steel Beam Cross

Downtown:


I don't know if they're going to move this to a more prominent place, or if it'll even be part of the memorial. Actually, I kind of doubt it, since, you know, maybe they want to keep any kind of religion out of what is a national, non-secular memorial. Then again, since our state and our churches should be separate, I'm not sure if there are any national secular memorials. Of course, our money says, "In God We Trust," on it, but nobody's perfect. Then again, the big three all worship the same god. Then again again, there are those other religions and philosophies which have many gods. Maybe, "In GODS We Trust" should be on our money to include them too. Then again again again, there are the atheists who don't want any mention of god on their money, so maybe it can say, "In God, or Gods most of us trust, while some of us don't give credence to that sort of thing, and even less of us actually respect the fact that some people might believe in god and not be some kind of religious maniacs but we're overshadowed by the loudmouth atheists who sound just as dogmatic as the people who believe the earth is only six-thousand years old and the rapture is coming in November, but those aren't the same people, just that one preacher dude who's now in a coma after his first rapture prediction didn't pan out but thousands of people sent him their life savings anyway because truly he needed the dough when he got up to heaven."

Then again, that might be too much to put on a penny. Then again again, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?

Shooting Dogs

With a cell phone, of course!


I wonder how many people are going to be doing web searches for "shooting dogs" and end up with my page instead. I hate to think what they were looking for instead.

Tribeca Sidewalk

In TriBeCa (to spell it "correctly"):


That's the "TRiangle BElow CAnal" for those of you not in the know. Also, Canal Street was never a canal, but a drainage ditch when the stinking Collect Pond was drained (hence the drainage ditch) and filled in where nice houses were built. But, the soft ground eventually sunk down and the nice little neighborhood became a slum where five streets all intersected and Martin Scorcese made an interesting yet factually incorrect movie about it. And that was your minor little NYC history lesson for the day.

Spirited Photography?

Or just a graveyard of silver halide?


You see what I did there, right? You know, with the words?

Doom

In the newly redesigned Washington Square Park, there's a little shady patch on the southeast edge of the central area which has been adopted by the denizens as their home base. I had the Rolleiflex hanging around my neck and walked through hoping someone would say something about my camera. This man obliged my unspoken desire. It was a quick, pleasant, nameless and painless interaction.

SLOW

For a diptych:


Taking a peek never hurt nobody...

Youthful Pride

She's waving it like she just don't care:


I find it hard to believe that this young girl actually grasps the full meaning of the flag she's waving, or of the entire parade. She has no idea of what happens when two men meet, and when one of those men gives the other a hands-free prostate massage. Where was I going with this? I don't know. I spent most of this 90+ degree day outdoors.

Get Down On It

That's not Kool, so it must be The Gang:


So maybe I didn't go with my all Kiss blog title idea. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Then again, tomorrow never knows...

Strutter

I know a thing or two about her....


I'm not sure this was what Paul Stanley had in mind, but why not? I think I need to title more of my pictures after Kiss songs. Now there's a gimmick that's sure to catch on!

Roxy on the Roof

ISN'T HE THE CUTEST????


I love that little guy. The picture is from two years ago. Yes, this is an archive shot. My scanner started acting up tonight for some reason and I'm too tired to get into any really heavy fiddling with it. But seriously, how can you not love that face?

Jesus Lives Here

Yes, here:


I bet you thought Jesus would have much different digs. I mean, he wasn't the ostentatious type, but I don't think he'd live on a bicycle, at least not an ostentatious bicycle.

I've been busier than the busy busy world of Richard Scarry today, hence this trip to the archives. And I'm still not done being busy. There's miles to go before I sleep, I tells you.

Pride on Gay

Gay Street, that is:


This is a shot from the archives, from two years ago. I'm sure you can tell since it's sunnier, and the colors are nicer. And I'm way tired right now. Long day, but a good day. I got out of the city (which is a rare thing). I ate gyoza in Huntington, Long Island. And you know what they say....

What gyoza round, comes around.

Thank you.

Bikes on Gay

Gay Street, on Gay Pride Day:


Were they dykes' bikes? I don't know. Though that one in the front is a girls' bike and does have a basket. I didn't check the basket to see if there were any 4 Non Blondes CDs in there (lesbians still ike 4 Non Blondes, right?).

Say No to Crack!

Say yes to hack lines!


There are certain people (usually straight people) who say that displays like this work against the whole thing that homosexuals are just like any other people you meet, and works against their "cause." I say, who the fuck cares. The people who can't accept homosexuality won't be changed whether there's a black dude with his ass hanging out on the street, or even if they just know that somewhere, two men (or women, or maybe even more than two) are getting together performing all sorts of "unnatural" acts in the privacy of their own homes and not bothering anybody (unless the apartment walls are thin), and god forbid if they're in NY State, they might even get married!

PS: I like that the flag seller on the right is also in the shot.

Pride Profile V

And the hits just keep on coming!

It's a TCM kind of night.

Pride Profile IV

This man was (and probably still is) a cameraman for NBC. I like this shot. My first scan I did in black and white by accident, and I liked it way better than this one. But, I'm not going to desaturate just for the sake of something looking better. No, I'll give you my crappy color job on scanned Fuji Provia 400 slide film and hope that the "auto" button on the curves feature in photoshop (CS4) does its job reasonably enough.

Pride Profile III

I don't remember what precipitated this photo (did I use that right, "precipitated?" This is a "tired day" for me). I mean, I forgot how it went down between us with me resulting in taking his picture, but somehow it did. But was he nice? Of course he was nice. He let me take his picture, so why wouldn't he be nice?

There's a grilled cheese and bacon, a side of fries, and a 20oz Coke Zero with my name on it. Now all I have to do is pick up the phone...

Pride Profile II

This also could have been called, "When SWCs Collide," but this dude was rolling with the viewfinder and a digital back. He also had the latter model with the biogon lens (or is that distagon? I keep forgetting which is which). As I said yesterday, I didn't make much small talk with people or ask them their names when it came down to their pictures. This dude's accent sounded Japanese, or maybe I'm making that generalization because he had a camera. I'm pretty sure this was the first time I saw someone else out with an SWC when I had mine out. Actually, I think this might be the first time I ever saw another SWC out on the streets of NYC.

We're out there...