beer – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

How Your Views of People Change from When You Were a Kid

Do you remember the people you looked up to when you were a kid? Perhaps it was a religious or Scout leader, a teacher, or a coach. Maybe an uncle or older cousin? Or the maintenance man at the community center? Or someone else?

When we were kids, we couldn’t wait to go to a community event, a family dinner, a sports match at school, or a Little League game. We wanted to see the people who pointed us in the right direction and were there for us. We wanted to see what they’d do next. We knew it would be the greatest thing. Or so we thought?

What happens when we get older? We remember how those people were when we were kids and try to emulate them. We add our own methods into the pot, and we usually have a good time.

Have you ever gotten together with those you looked up to? In some cases, you looked up to them decades ago and haven’t seen them since you graduated high school or college. But in your heart, they were the best.

What happens when you are the one running things, and these people are now several years older and much greyer? Yes, you’re happy to see them. You talk about old times. You pay homage to those that us whether it was the right time or too soon. It is never really the right time. We don’t want to lose anyone.

Some want to come back and ask you about it. You think, well, maybe. But then you notice they hang at your event and spend it with the bottle. Then they are dumb enough to get in their auto and drive to another part of the venue where your events are taking place. Were they doing that when you were a kid, and they were much younger? In many cases, yes.

What to do? You remember how you loved these people. They had every honor and helped you get them. Some tell you that they are much older; they can’t do what they once did. Some of us can’t do it at my age. Some of the older folks are still in fighting form.

How does it make you feel when you see people you thought were the greatest come to your event, shoot their mouths off, and sip drink after drink? You are thankful for the experience they gave you and promise to be more responsible.

They Regroup

They Regroup

Anat headed back to her Upper East penthouse. Alana and Marc jumped into Alana’s Infiniti and drove upstate with Lebanon Hanover, Strawberry Switchblade, and the Sisters of Mercy blasting. They had been listening to some of the newer darkwave but needed to remain faithful to their origins. That’s why they added the Sisters. How could you not?

They got to closed-off areas of Marc’s holy camp. The two of them jumped into the lake. They were proud of themselves. They knew Christy A. and Jay weren’t done. Severely weakened they were. It was only a matter of time before they were taken out and cast away. They got out of the lake and heard ZZ Top pumping on their random mix. Eclectic the two of them are.

Marc built a fire in his favorite spot. Unfortunately, his sleeping quarters were destroyed by a man who called himself a professional. There was nothing professional about him. One day Marc would take him out. That was easy pickings. One or two pomegranates’ tops. But he’d toss in some barley to make it hurt more.

Other than their music mix, all was quiet. The two held hands and smiled. Their lips locked. They were happy Marc’s mom was taking care of Sarah and Benjamin David. They hoped they behaved and didn’t use their powers. Marc’s and Alana’s parents had no idea who their kids really were. They wanted to keep it that way. Anat hasn’t spoken to her parents in years and had no care what they knew. She still mourned her grandmother.

Darkness settled in. The only light was the fire and the half-moon. The two were sipping Genny Cream Ale and munching on Freihofer’s chocolate chip cookies. Their mix was still playing. Tunes from the Beatles, Damned, Stranglers, Velvet Underground and more played on. Marc and Alana were in each other’s arms.

All of a sudden, the woods got totally silent. All of the animals that were stirring around were quiet. The fire’s blaze grew. Marc knew what this meant. He heard the herd of buffalo and knew the Woodsman was enroute.

As hard as it was for the two of them, Alana and Marc let go of each other. They had to get ready for a higher calling. They slightly lowered their music. The Woodsman got off the lead buffalo and sat down by the fire. His eyes gazed at the two lovebirds. He opened a beer.

A few sips in, he said, “I know what the two of you and Anat did on Staten Island. I do approve. But be patient.” Alana and Marc smiled. The Woodsman continued, “Jay and Christy A. are down. They will try to get their strength back. Be mindful and careful, and you will complete your work.” He finished his Genny and rode off with his herd.

100 Years or Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Does Music Make a Difference When Shooting and Editing Photos?

By Mitchell Slepian

Hello, readers. As my regulars are aware, ninety-nine percent of the time, the images in my stories have been shot and edited with my Nikon camera. As Paul Simon sings, I like to take photographs. My Kodachrome sits on a table next to an old Nikon that was a workhorse and is now out of commission.

Sheepshead Bay by Emmons Avenue – Edited to Sir Elton

When shooting and editing, I always have songs in my head. One of my all-time favorite songs is “100 Years,” the opening track on The Cure’s “Pornography” album. It might be the darkest, most goth album of all time. I listen to it nonstop. Here’s a taste of Robert Smith’s (The Cure’s founder, lead singer, and possibly the best songwriter ever) lyrics. “It doesn’t matter if we all die. Ambition in the back of a black car.” I listen to lots of other great artists. Some are happier than The Cure. Of course, some are just as dark. Here’s a partial mix: Bauhaus, David Bowie, Billy Joel, Depeche Mode, Erasure, Sir Elton John, Joy Division, John Lennon (probably the best musician of all time), Led Zeppelin, Bob Marley, The Psychedelic Furs, The Smiths, Siouxsie and the Banshees, U2 and The Who. And the list goes on.

It’s not unusual for me to have some of these lyrics floating through my brain when I’m shooting. “Confusion in her eyes that says it all. She’s lost control. And she’s clinging to the nearest passerby.” – “She’s out of Control,” Joy Division “Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of her. Slashed her wrists, bored with life. Didn’t succeed, thank the Lord.” – “Blasphemous Rumors” – Depeche Mode “Back to the howling old owls. Hunting the horny back toad” – “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” – Sir Elton and “Before you cross the street. Take my hand. Life is what happens to you. While you’re busy making other plans” – “Beautiful Boy” – John Lennon. He always nailed it. They all do.

One can be sure the songs in my head while I am shooting affect how they are taken. I might adjust the ISO and F-stop based on how I am feeling. In case you were wondering, I do not listen to music on my iPhone. I hate headphones. I used to wear my Walkman’s headphones slightly above or below my ears. Sometimes I still do that with headphones when I am Zooming or watching things on YouTube. Songs always go through my head. It gets me through the days. Or as Robert Smith says, “In Between Days.” That’s on the “Head on the Door” album.

Bees Fetching Honey – Edited to the Cure

The other day, I was editing some images from Emmons Avenue, Sheepshead Bay and the New York Botanical Garden while listening to Sir Elton. Then I switched to a mix of The Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen, Erasure, and Psychedelic Furs, Siouxie and the Banshees. Erasure brings back memories of camp. The Cure, Erasure, and the Furs bring back old memories of dating and driving around in my old Caddy with the girls I liked. We usually listened to those bands. My first date was to see The Cure with Love & Rockets and the Pixies as the openers. We were too young to buy beer. We shared M&M’s. I still think about all of this when certain songs play.

Look at the images and see if you can tell the difference. This was written and edited to Led Zep’s “How the West Was Won.” With final touches while listening The latest from The Cure: “Songs of a Lost World.”

Milk

It was a party at Anat’s place. Marc, Alana, Jen, Tzipora, and Elan were there with their kids. Dan just got back from picking up some more wine and beer. All of the kids were playing. Anat was feeding Gillil. Not being shy, Alana yelled out, “Hey, Anat is that date milk she’s sucking out of you?” Marc has a friend who works on a dairy farm and knows everything about milk. Anat retorted back, “I have no clue. Why don’t you try some.” They all laughed. Tzipora’s eyes were fixated on Alana. Eran knew about the two of them. Marc and Alana mentioned the powers some of their kids had. This was the only group that knew of their powers. Alana said imagine if Marc and I had a kid. It’d be a monster. Our kid would come from two parents who have superpowers. The others are only from one. Marc smiled.

The party winded down. Marc and Alana, left hand in hand. The two of them began discussing having a kid. No, they would not get married. They just wanted to see what they created. They imagined what would happen if the Emperor and Princess Leia had ever gotten married. Or if Anakin married Ashoka. That’d be interesting. Imagine what the Force would wield. The two of them went home and started playing Love & Rockets. They woke up the following day and were still discussing having a kid.

Marc heads home

Marc woke up to a cool breeze. He’s not much of a sleeper. He thinks he slept well. He took a walk over to the lake and jumped in. He toweled off, had some cereal and juice, and jumped into his car for the trip back home. He texted Alana, told her how much he missed her, and told her she would be here next time. She wrote back about how much fun she had with Tzipora. She said all was clean. Marc knows about their liaisons. He could care less.

Marc hit the expressway and cruised most of the way to the Smiths and Echo & The Bunnymen. Meanwhile, Jay was sitting home in his dump of an apartment. It looked like a welfare motel. He barely had the money to pay his rent. Kari came over. She did not look happy. She told him what happened on the beach with Alana. Jay punched a wall. His hand started to bleed. He lit a joint and cracked open a beer. He guzzled it down like a frat boy. Of course, he never went to college. He barely finished high school. The two argued for a little while.

Marc was making great time. Alana texted and said she was cooking dinner. Marc wondered what she was making. She is not known for cooking. Neither is he. Marc figured she was ordering takeout, and she’d warm it up. She thought she was cooking since she turned on the oven to warm up the schnitzel.

Anat was getting tired. She was in her third trimester. She hoped the last few weeks would be peaceful. Dan was busy buying baby items. They refused to do a gender reveal party. They wanted a surprise. They would be thankful and happy with whatever Hashem blessed them with. She would name the child after her grandmother no matter what. Jerry was busy practicing his olive throwing. The kid is getting stronger. Jen even called Anat to see how she was feeling. Anat laughed and smiled.