p s e u d o r e a l
Better Than Real Because It's Not.
Filed under: General
(March 14 & 16) I am now a 5 mile walk to the train. Woe is me.
The journey starts out in Miller Place.
Off in the distance, you can see the smokestacks from the Port Jefferson Power Station, a few blocks from where I lived for eight years.
The geese are safe from Michael Bloomberg here
It looks a lot more rural here than it really is
No hunting. But really, it’s suburbia, honest!
Someone had a really lousy day.
Lousy enough to make them very angry. But that didn’t change the fact this is a very dangerous road.
And the weathervane has gone down again
Apple’s on fire! … just kidding. Maybe Tony stopped by.
The city has crabs.
I passed by the House of Viza, but he was not there.
The flowers seem somehow much larger this spring.
Filed under: General
(December 31) The last day of a lousy year.
As the morning begins, it seems I am Mr. Phelps. Or Mr. Hunt, if you prefer.
This message will self destruct in ….
Later that night as I returned home, there were some ducks (geese?) who apparently didn’t get the memo about the pond being frozen over.
They emphatically did not wish to participate in this photoblog.
Good riddance, 2010.
Filed under: General
(December 24) I need to try and remember, nothing around here is open late or at all on holidays. A three mile walk to the store for baking powder came up against an empty store. Fortunately I whipped up a substitute at home.
Peace man, …. peace.
Bah fuckin humbug.
Filed under: General
(November 14) Last night in Port Jefferson. Last-minute packing ensues.
Home for one more night
Change is afoot
Starts on the 15th though
Wise words, indeed.
Filed under: General
Every now and then, I escape back to the city where I belong.
Instead of being the train home to Brooklyn, now it’s the train to the city.
The number of drunks and bums Father Frank’s homeless shelter attracts to the area seems to have steadily risen over time. Now they’re passed out all over the train station day and night.
I prefer this city greeting to the drunks sprawled out on the platform in Port Jeff
Hello ESB, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.
The city is full of ghosts
The Endless March of the Yellow Cabs
It is now safe to walk uphill.
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