what's up?


1964 chevy impala

1964 chevy impala

here’s an old impala, with the morning sun hitting it just so. there was a line up of an impala club, just under ther coronado overpass, waiting for their turn to get into the show at chicano park. i think this car was near the end of the line, so his back end was hanging out in the sun—-lucky for me, i saw it.


today is my son’s birthday. i’m sitting down in san clemente, outside some random restaurant his wife selected, waiting for them to show up. got here early to avoid the worst of friday southbound traffic.  

almost tempted to keep on going to san diego, but the uptown show is tomorrow, and my better half would miss me, so i’ll head home tonight.  

for my kid, i have a small gift, as well as some cash—what the kids always ask for—not enough to help them move out of my condo, but enough to go to get him into disneyland for one day...so not really that much. 

i’d stayed up late last night, making him some pan de elate, a sweet bread thing, his tia used to make him when he was a kid. it’s sort of like a yellow cake, cut into squares,and drowned/soaked in sweetened condensed milk and brandy. i used to make it for him often, but now he tries to keep in shape and so hasn’t had it for a few years.  

i was at my parents’ house. my daughter is currently living there with her dog, waiting for her brother to move out of my place. sort of musical chairs, where i probably will never live in my own place again. 

like i said, i was up late baking. left the pan of bread on the counter to cool. my mom said she’d cover it before she went up to bed, so up i went to sleep.  

this morning, i go to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal before work, and the pan has been covered with foil. atop that is a post-it note warning that is not to be eaten, it’s for my kid—this pointedly directed at my dad, who will help himself to anything in the kitchen.

knowing my boy will not want to eat the whole thing, and likely to take it to work or relatives to share, i added to the note, that it was ok to have some pieces. i left it there and headed to work. figured i’d pick it up on the way to dinner, placing some chunks into a gift box of some sort, that i’d buy at lunch.

got a call today frm my daughter around eight a.m.  she seemed distraught, as she said something terrible had happened. 

being that both of my parents have fallen recently, and have health issues, i began to worry instantly. you know, the adrenaline build up kind? 

she began to tell me how she had awakened and realized she needed to go buy some dog food or something for the beast’s hungry belly. she assumed my mom and dad were still sound asleep. 

she locked the dog in her room and left for the store. she got back about a half hour later, and the dog was waiting inside, by the front door. my mom was not home, so she figured she had gone to run errands.

in the kitchen, she put the food in the dog’s bowl, on the floor. 

he’s usually like a vacuum, always famished, and inhales food in minutes. this time, however, he seemed uninterested. weird.  

then, she noticed that the foil was slightly warped up at the corner on the bread dish. she hadn’t thought much of it before, as foil is bendy and the bread was still covered. 

as she pulled the aluminum back, she realized why the beast wasn’t hungry. the mofo had helped himself to the bread! 

i’ve mentioned before this dobie is tall enough he can just rest his chin on the counters, but he’s never done anything to stuff on the counters before.  

and it turns out my mom had been out all morning, so the little bastard had also figured out a way to open the bedroom door. is he some sort of velociraptor from jurassic park? did he learn? 

we are guessing he just stood on his back legs and helped himself to breakfast. no paw prints or things knocked on the floor. and he hadn’t knocked the glass pyrex bread dish on the floor, so there’s that.  

he conveniently had only eaten most of the soft center of the bread, leaving the crusty edge pieces behind. no one is going to eat that—he probably still licked it. 

anyway, my daughter was distressed and had cried before calling me, knowing that i’d stayed up making it for her brother’s birthday.  

i just kept laughing, picturing that dog doing his thing. she kept saying sorry, and not understanding why i wad laughing. what was i supposed to do? i couldn’t fix it, couldn’t go home and make more at the moment. it is/was going to make a good story tonight at the dinner table. 

happy birthday, kid

happy birthday, kid

a weekend | pt 3

1941 chevy special deluxe

1941 chevy special deluxe

part 1  |  part 2  |  part 3  |  part 4  |  part 5 

had the best intentions of being out in barrio logan before sunrise. set my alarm for four-thirty. snoozed it until five-thirty, dressed quickly, ate a bowl of cereal.

i started worrying about catching the red train out the barrio—not the actual ride out, but the standing in the dark waiting, plus switching trains and waiting some more. lots of homeless types zombie-ing around ya know.

i needn't have worrried at the first station—wasn't dark by six anyway, but there were at least five cops just standing around. same at the next station, plus plenty of people. but i totally would have been fine taking a swing at someone with the pointy end of my tripod, if there was any trouble.

so really the only thing about having to be off on my own, is worrying about my safety in the dark. that sucks. i miss my favorite light because of that. stupid.

i hadn't been to chicano park in a couple of years. i think last time it was or threatened to rain, so many cars just didn't bother to show up, and there was so much room on the grass, that vendors had set up out front, where cars usually get packed in.

this day, the weather was perfect. just a little chilly, but not enough to wear a coat. would have gotten too warm quickly, and my bag has no room for stuffing a jacket. 

started over by the skateboard park, with a line-up of impalas—sixty-twos/sixty-threes/sixty-fours. then caught the end of the line of cars on dewey street, heading to the grassy knoll.

quickly headed through the park to start on the street side this time, assuming it would be much hotter later, and the pavement would be too much. usual clubs in their usual spots: pachucos, viejitos, majestics, klique.

turned right, up toward the majestics' big blue club house. i don't think i've ever seen it without the yard packed with people, but it still was early, so just a few setting up tables.

made quick work of the length of the street, then up on the back patch of grass. i skipped cars i'd seen before, had hoods up, or just didn't like the shot. i can be choosy, when i'm running against the mental clock in my head.

took a break, chugged a bottle of water, and went around the front lawn i'd skipped through earlier. after all that, about ten, it was starting to get crowded, and the sun had come out and was feeling warm. i decided to stop, head to the market, use the facilities, and grab me some carnitas.

unusually, the carnitas sucked. they usually are the most tender, flavorful pieces of meat you could wish for; this time of day, i got a plate full of brittle, bristly meat stumps. best part of the meal was the tortillas. sad.

i had mentally called it a day, and had even texted my better half that i was done. he basically said what the hell...his weather app was telling him the day was perfect, so why stop? i thought about it a little, and figured he was right. especially, when right out the door, between the stores and apartment complex, the impala car club had set up in the middle of the street.

so shot a few of those cars, then headed around the far side of the building, toward the end of the road and the freeway on-ramp end of logan avenue. come around the corner, to the shouts of a group of christians of some sort shouting from the right hand side of the on-ramp at a group of people on the opposite side, backed up by a contingent of cops and their cars just standing around, just in case. whatever.

cut through that mess, figuring i'd just quickly run through and see if anything drove up that i might have missed earlier. unfortunately, by that time, all i could see up the road was a river of people. bad news for me and my tripod.

i still shot quite a few cars, but i had to wait out the shot longer than before, between the flows of people. to the point that i was just done, and pulled off to the side to pack my shit.

even then, there were so many people in the park, under the overpass to coronado, that i decided to not go that way, and turned around back through the cops and on-ramp drama to get out of there.

to be continued...

long time, no see

1963 chevy impala

saw this impala early at chicano park. anything parked by this mural is always a good shot. the mural is colorful on it's own. park a nice car in front of it, it makes a pretty picture. 

i think i have one of a truck in front of it later in the day. not so sparkly a paint job, but nice truck.

was gone for ten days. long road trip, my mom came along for the ride. i drove a big rental truck of stuff to my daughter in washington, then a rental car back. 

let me tell you it's a long drive when you don't have someone to help with the driving. my feet hurt. my legs hurt. my butt hurt. lol. i was all butt hurt.

my mom would not have been able to handle it. she doesn't drive freeways anymore, much less a truck. should have seen her face when after gassing up the first time, i said it was her turn. priceless.

we saw a lot of stuff, but didn't have too much extra time to really get a good look around. i'd stop here and there, but mostly, it was about getting to the next hotel for the night. 

i did love the scenery though. i like road trips, even if they hurt. i miss the trees already.

stopped and saw family in san jose, then instead of going through big sur and monterey, decided to cut and run for an overnight in solvang. then had to cut that short to get home and turn around to take my brother to lax. 

home a day early. trying to get laundry done, but this washing machine hates me, and keeps going off balance, trying to commit suicide by rocking itself off the little pedestal it sits on. my better half decided to give it a shot after i was found giving it a double finger salute one too many times, and dropping a few f-bombs.

omg. there's never enough time, is there?

reflections of love

1948 chevy fleetline

so last night i was playing with my pictures, trying to decide what to post next. nothing was really jumping out at me, and the few more that i've promised to post if i got a good shot, just weren't grabbing my attention. they're ok, but more of a weekend job, not something to stay up late working on.

i narrowed it down to a couple from chicano park. started messing with both. it was late, and decided this one would be a quicker study.

fleetline, one of my all time favorite cars. i'll shoot them happily all day, thank you very much.

i liked the reflection of the car next to this one.

may day, may day

posting this truck for the owner, who came over and talked with me. seeing the plaque on the truck, i asked if he ever goes to the show at san fernando high school. he said his club hosts it, so yeah, i guess he does.

he drove a long way to be in this show. i think it was worth it. so many great cars. perfect day; only reason we left was that so many people arrived to see the cars, they were just getting in the shots, and we were afraid they'd trip on the tripod legs or knock the camera over.

i guess we could have just walked around and shot hand-held with the macro lens, just hunting down hood ornaments. i took sixty-three gigabytes of pictures, so, i have enough to keep me happy for a while. better half had already packed up his bag, and though he said he was happy to follow me around with the bags, i decided we should just go.


1951 chevy truck

found this truck tucked up under one of the supports leading to the bridge to coronado, at least i think it is. had just finished taking a picture of a fifty-nine impala, turned, and decided to take this one too. just liked where it was, and the surrounding mural and lines of the overpass.

posting only because when i was done, the owner thanked me and that was all. maybe he already knew who i was, maybe not. and i've forgotten what club it was with, so i can't even give a shout out to them either.

hopefully someone will mention the picture is up here to him...they always seem to find them online eventually.

so many more pictures from that day, i am having a difficult time deciding which to post. better half shakes his head, saying something to the effect of it being a tough position to be in.

might as well begin with the few for those people that spoke to me, as usual. then fret that another show is coming right up, and there will be a whole bunch more to sift through. oh well.

overcast here, typing at lunch, in the corner of a little café, quietly trying to become invisible. i hope it rains. i'm just in a mood for it... i want to splash barefoot in puddles like i used to, squish mud between my toes; i want to hide under the covers, and listen to it pattering on the roof.

full history

started my day by dropping my pictures off at the oc fairgrounds. fourth year in a row...will it be a fourth honorable mention? seem to be collecting those. it will make me laugh if i do. eh, good enough they will be on the wall.

then a quick run through the swap meet, and out to my condo to grab the mail, without disturbing my kid and his dog there. didn't feel like walking the dog.

randomly, it started to sprinkle. explains the humidity. almost felt like when i was a kid back east, just before the rain comes. almost, but not quite.

back home now. afternoon moving files on my computer, to make room for more. i can fill up a eight terabyte drive like nobody's business. they say all hard drives fail eventually, which means someday, everything i've ever shot will disappear at some point. sad thought. buy a print.

better half just now pointed out six or seven bad ass old chevys driving by the house. can't remember the club, but i've seen them all before. maybe i should take a walk up to the cigar bar with my camera...


saw this mercury at the chicano park show. i think the simple blackness of the car balances out the busy and colorful mural behind it. i get that it's a historical mural, but do they have to jam the whole history into a freeway overpass?

kinda reminds me of the doodles my sister used to fill notebooks and her bedroom wall with. just not so bright.

pink elephant

it's really, really bright outside. i've been stalling leaving the house. woke up at six. could have gone to a few cars shows by now. used to be easier, when i was often driving from oc to la, and they were on the way. now, i'm already here. harder to get out of bed. i guess it's just one more of the things you give up when you get married. nah, i could have gone. i'm just tired.

sitting here, wondering if they're still doing a viejitos show on the last sunday of the month. if they are, should be starting about now. i guess i'll head over and see. i can at least pick up some carnitas, show or not.


there's a speaker thingy from ye olde tymey drive-in theatres hanging on this perfectly fine packard. would there really have been a packard sitting at a drive-in with a speaker thingy hanging on the door? not even of the same era are they? hell, where's the food tray? i want popcorn.

i like the hood ornament and the coon tail.


i've been letting my hair grow out for the last year, just to see how long it might get. it's getting a bit shaggy looking, so i was going to have the ends trimmed a bit. last time i wanted a cut and a color, it had been several months since i'd gone in, and the stylist i liked was no longer there. didn't even let me know. maybe she doesn't do hair anymore.

so this time, i was going to see my back up stylist, one that i'd gone to off and on for over a decade. called the salon, and the guy says she hasn't worked there for months. wtf. so now, i don't know where to go.

sure seeing another stylist besides your usual stylist is sort of like cheating, being double-dumped sucks. fine. i hate going in for a hair cut anyway. hate having to fake small talk with a practical stranger. it's like repeatedly going on awkward dates every once in a while.

and as long as i'm bitching about girl stuff. i hate shopping. i hate clothes shopping specifically. not a teeny bopper anymore, not that i ever was, and i'm not old enough for those polyester pants for the double-wide, though i'm starting to look like my mom more every day. can't stand any of the clothes in my closet, but can't seem to pick out anything at the store that fits or that i like, and doesn't feel like a cheap dishrag.

i guess i'm just in a mood. maybe i'll just try to sleep. hell of a week at work, and more coming. hamster on a wheel, man. hamster on a wheel.