Day 008: The Betty Boop of Wilmington, Ohio

She Is A Forever-Young Lady

Tonight I’m traveling from a location scout in San Diego. Feeling rather fried and having my dear old Mum’s apartment on the route home, I drop by her place to say “hi.”

As all mothers do, she pulls me in for dinner, something no self-respecting British man can decline.

You have to know my mum, an amazing Brit, 86 years young with an incredible history going back to the WWII Blitz over London.

At dinner, I show Mum the 365 project. Her eyes light up, and to the phone she goes in calling her neighbor. Five minutes later I’m sitting in Pat’s living room, meeting her and her four-legged companion, Sassy.

We chat for over an hour. A remarkable conversation, all about faith and laughter. Her happiness is contagious and even though Sassy is drawing blood as she scratches on Pat’s delicate skin, Pat remains unaffected and smiling.

She shows me photos of her eleven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, and as I get to know her family the talk shifts to darker history.

She tells me of her son’s murder and the early death of her high school sweetheart husband. She unveils a tragic work injury that removed her from the workforce and of her being the only one still living of all of her siblings. But the radiant thing about her is even with the difficulties and loneliness she bears, she is unshaken in her optimism and positive outlook toward the world.

There is too much to write about Pat and it’s getting late. Tomorrow is a big day and I need to prep myself for a night of curved-couch sleep. I cannot refuse Mum’s invitation to sleep at her place. I’ll just leave for my L.A. commitments at 5 am. Better to feel the sting of exhaustion than the disappointment of a Jewish mother.

So before I nod off to pretzeled sleep-land, I’ll list some of what I learn about Pat.

  • She rolls with the punches
  • Feels fortunate that she can walk and think
  • Holds her hospital’s record for the most stints in a living human heart – ten to be exact
  • Still trying to figure out how she can have 3 hips replacements with only 2 hips
  • Has patterned her life after Betty Boop

Pat, I love you, you forever-young lady.

 

Day 007: King & Queen of Hollywood

The True King and Queen of Hollywood

When you think of the West Coast photo scene, you may think of a who’s who list of name photographers and celebrities, but today I met true photographic royalty.

Meet Silvino and his sister Andrea, two incredibly hard-working people. I’ve known Silvino’s name for years as one synonymous with quality flash equipment repair. His reputation is huge and well-respected. Never met the man before today so let me start my story with a tale.

Once upon a time, there was a beauty and portrait photographer. His light was spectacular (please forgive the self-glory, just makes a better tale), but his equipment was flawed. One flash, two flash, three flash, none—a song that was becoming more and more familiar to him. His mind was troubled, and his patience was thin as he did his best to mend the problem. A little tape here, a rap of a hand there, but no matter how hard he tried he would experience again: one flash, two flash, three flash, none.

Day after day turned into week after week and as the months slowly passed his trouble only grew. One flash, two flash, three flash, NONE! 

Then, total darkness finally fell upon him, so off to Silvino’s he went.

OK, we’re on the same page, take the flash head to an expert, time to meet Silvino.

I call to schedule a drop. Answering the phone is his sister Andrea. We chat the usual tech stuff and my gut tells me to ask her if she would be interested in being photographed for 365. I explain it to her and she promises me 5 minutes. We agree and 45 minutes later I find myself in Silvino’s West Hollywood shop.

I arrive and am welcomed to a very busy family-run business. I first meet Silvino, as seated at a tech counter in the back corner, he quietly worked away with electrical grace. I look around and self-inventory countless flash equipment of every brand. The tone of the room is focused and as my eye’s scan, I notice another technician (Hortencia: Silvino’s step-sister) hard at work on what looks like delicately wiring a flash head. And from behind the counter, Andrea pleasantly steps up. With a warm smile, she breaks the silence as, greeting me, she writes up my paperwork.

Business done, we start to chat. We share life stories, our children (turns out we both have 8-year-old daughters), and of her 17 years of working with her brother

Silvino’s ears perk up, leading to my inviting him to join us in conversation and asking if he will be in our photograph. He humbly agrees, but states, “I never let people photograph me.” I feel privileged, seeing it as an honor to photograph someone whose work I truly respect.

His job is thankless and unseen. What he and his family do is a great backbone to the LA photo industry; something that I challenge every photographer to respect in using his services.

We all chat and the conversation quickly turns away from business to more poignant topics. We expand our talk to past, family, and our LA histories. As we converse, I am smitten by a sense of laughter blended with a powerfully determined work ethic and focus on family.

We share family photos and stories of our kids. In doing so, I strengthen my testimony of the importance of family and our responsibilities as parents. I reflect upon the many hard-working families I know. I walk away with a self-challenge, and a challenge to you, to recommit to getting to more fully know our communities.

So today it is easy to forget the spotlight the famous photographers and celebrities hold. For front and center in my mind are Silvono, Andrea, and Hortencia: keep going, you’re doing things right! In my mind, and as the people you are, I see you as the true Kings and Queens of Hollywood.

Silvono, Andrea, Hortencia: Thanks for letting me into your lives.

Day 006: The Book of James

“Let The Love Come to You”

Day 6, almost one week into 365. Only 359 days to go. The good thing is, so far my family is on board. Tonight my daughter and I pass Taft High on our way home from dinner out with a friend. In the parking lot are a dozen or so catering trucks. Gourmet trucks are becoming quite the rage lately and we regularly visit our favorite haunt; a Friday night hot spot we know in Granada Hills where 50 to 60 trucks usually show up.

Tonight, however, catches us by surprise, seeing trucks in this spot is not a typical occurrence. Even though we are full to the gills from a heavy Mexican dinner of chips, fajitas, and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, we find it impossible to withstand the temptation of a catering truck expedition. I try to drive by, but 1/4 mile past Taft, our willpower gone, we flip a U-turn as we commit to the pursuit to snacks.

We pull up and immediately I see my greatest temptation: chocolate-covered nuts. Hey, they are full of protein. That’s good for me, isn’t it?

Ready to binge, my daughter and I walk towards the most colorful truck in the lot, Antonia’s Nuts. On our approach we are greeted by James. At first glance, I know this guy has things to say. He agrees to be photographed. I quickly find out one fact is certain, James is way chill.

We talk for about 15 minutes. My takeaway: James is an icon for the positive. The kind of dude we all want as a friend.

A few statements from “The Book of James”

  • Why not? Not why!
  • You have to have humor
  • Laugh at it all
  • I’m a musician, but check out my girlfriend’s music

James lives what he preaches. He tells me of his house just being robbed, “it opened up the universe for me.” Even had the robbers try to break in again a second time while he and his roommate were home. He just went to the door and told them to go away. Many of us would have attacked them. James just kept his cool.

I find out he is a musician. Leads me to ask him if I can promote his band or share any message for him. He gives me two simple notes.

ONE: “Live positive and let the love come to you”

TWO: “Nah, my band broke up, but you can promote my girlfriend’s music—it’s cool. Google her. Jade Alexis”

James, hope to see you again!

Day 005: Hector

I ask, “Where are you from?” He says, “Wherever I’m passing by.”

Today I had the opportunity to photograph the news anchors of Univision 34, Los Angeles. A great group of people to work with and a ton of fun to take pictures of. Can’t post the photos right now, but soon you will see them all over LA and on the web.

We started the shoot very early in the morning and finished in the evening. A very full day. No gripes; I love to be busy – plus I had a 365 plan for the day. A perfect plan in my mind; simple, straightforward forward, and easy-breezy – just grab someone at lunch break.

But as life always does, the curveball came… unfinished business locked me to the mobile phone. Still no problem; shift to fallback plan – find a willing person in the hallway at the end of the shoot. Strike two: wrapped the shoot and the halls are quiet.

Adding a touch of stress, it’s 8 pm, I’m now in the parking structure, sitting in the driver’s seat, car running, and ready to reverse out of the space. Memories of the evening before fall upon me as I struggle to shift my car to reverse in prepping to exit an echoing garage. For whatever reason, the gear shift decides to give me grief. My wife and I have a saying, “If it’s not broken, it must not belong to us.” Two nights in a row of car issues… @!*%#^$#!!!!!

With time burning, I reach for the owner’s manual and prepare for a fight. Here’s the blow-by-blow. “Honda throws a stinging low blow,” burying the table of contents in a strangely designed booklet. But no chump to adversity, Radstone quickly regains his composure and side steps to the glossary. Honda counters with an overly simplified list of topics and complex listings of unrelated page references. “Oh no! Looks like Radstone is going down early,” knees weak, body trembling, he’s sagging for the mat and reaching for his AAA card. The shame of it all, AAA two nights in a row… for the same car… what a looser. “But wait, a glimmer of hope,” Radstone’s stomach growls, desperately in need of transportation to the nearest dining establishment. And amidst an on-setting attack of abdominal warnings, a vague spark of hope comes into focus, snapping into view through a sugar crashing blurriness.

I strain my eyes, concentrating one more time on an overly cluttered glossary, “and yes, I ready to throw the fight-winning blow,” gear shift release button – page 64. Radstone jabs, “insert the ignition key into the hidden slot,” shifter moves to neutral, Honda drops to the canvas, “1, 2, 3, blah, blah, blah, 10. Out!!!!! The winner by Knock Out! Radstone! Holy Hell, got to love those secret panels.

The event behind me, and still needing to find a person to shoot, I accept the fate that is in store for me. Load my gear, and on the drive home, find a point of interest to stop in searching for a person to photograph. Gear loaded, it is time to exit the parking structure and start my quest.

As I exit, a lone stranger appears, Hector – one of Univision’s news photographers returning from the day’s assignments. I approach him and it’s all thumbs up.

On the list of All Things Happen for a Reason, the car delay ends up working for a purpose. An earlier exit would have made me miss meeting Hector, who taught me a thing or two of what news shooters go through.

A few worthy notes on Hector’s commitment to his craft:

  • His news van is really his office.
  • Every day he commutes to, and from, Los Angeles and San Bernardino in bringing the news to us. Not a short drive.
  • He has been nominated for an Emmy.
  • Has one documentary under his belt that was selected to be featured at the San Diego Latino Film Festival.

But here what’s impressive:

From 1999 to 2005 Hector’s assignment was to cover events happening on the Mexico / California border. He tells me of things that I choose not to write. With respect and a smile, he shares these stories with a degree of humility. With all my years of portrait and advertising photography, I have never found myself in the depth of situations Hector shares with me. In only a few minutes he opens my eyes to the courage of media photographers. Here is a cool young guy, just getting married, who has looked tragedy right in the face and can share it with the balance of a seasoned spiritualist.

All I can say is, “Thanks Hector, and keep up the meaningful work!”

Until Tomorrow,

RR

Day 004: Fish Out Of Water

Saved by Francis The Key Guy

Take one middle-class Caucasian man, dressed him like a college golfer; put him in a very diverse Spanish-speaking park; place a camera around his neck, and put some paperwork in his hand. Then have him loiter around the teen center – at night mind you. Sound suspicious? Perhaps?

I was not thinking too soundly on this one. The saving grace was my wife and daughter by my side. Gave me a bit of credibility. All except for the golf club my sweet little child kept swinging in the air (really she was just practicing her drive – golf industry look out!).

We spent a good hour approaching people. All very gracious, but none taking the offer to be photographed. I begin to notice a consistent through-line, a common tendency for people to slowly gain distance. Subtle things like a tree between us, or a wall, and one of my favorites, a car. The bottom line, no one wants to come near me. In retrospect, I did look pretty creepy.

But the story gets better. It’s 8 pm now. Kids are slowly leaving the park. Beginning to release the area as the rougher evening crowd slowly appears. Lights will be shutting down soon, and with my tail between my legs, and a commitment to return at a later date dressed a bit more appropriately, I make the call to move my family to the solace of our car. 

We approach our assigned doors and look at each other no differently than usual. You know, that… You have the keys? look.

You got it! Keys safely secured as they dangled behind the steering wheel. Doors locked, safe, and sound in the vehicle. We are just that kind of family, always planning ahead. And truly, I can see no better stop-gap to auto theft than to lock the keys, and of course my wallet, securely in the car

Now here we are, no photos, no wallet (no better place than in the glove compartment), and $10,000 of camera equipment in my backpack. By the way, even the locals keep their eyes peeled around these parts, and being the only guy in the whole park wearing a bright blue beach shirt, I’m looking more like a target the darker the park gets. Standing in bewilderment at the fact my family and I are stranded out of our bright red Accord.
Gary Larson’s Far Side comic series strangely comes into my mind; specifically one of two deer talking – one with a target on his chest. The other dear says to him, “Bummer of a birthmark Hal.” And that’s right, tonight, I’m Hal!?!

But no need to fear, my daughter steps up and boldly states, “Don’t worry Daddy, I’ve got a golf club.” Wife does what wives do — brings the common sense back into play, grabs the cell phone, and thirty minutes later arrives Francis, the Diamond Security man of the hour. He steps to the rescue, car door picking tools in hand and cell phone on shoulder. Literally, 2 minutes and the door is open. He turns and peels out a clipboard. I numbly sign and begin to watch him fade away towards the driver’s side of his truck. My gut tells me he is my photo opportunity and I can not let him get away.

With the glooming possibility of failing to get a photo on day four of a one-year challenge, and the clock rapidly ticking away, I rush this savior of the moment in a sprint of determination. He terminates his phone conversation and looks at me with a straight face of inquisition. I tell him what I’m up to, he thinks, looking much like the rest of those I’ve approached this evening. My mind starts to boot up in preparation for another failed attempt. A little desperate as I begin thinking of the next possibilities. Funny how much can flash through your mind. A fact proven as I visualized myself elsewhere. Maybe the pharmacy up the street, a polka club, Pizza Hut, or throwing myself into oncoming traffic to just photograph whatever happens. That way at least I’d have a good injury story to support the fact that I tanked out on day four.

I force myself to shut the nutty thinking down and look back at my new friend Francis, who with an approving nod of acceptance redeems my efforts as he accepts my invite. I’m telling you, I owe this guy big time.

So, if you ever find yourself in Canoga Park, night falling, and keys safely locked in the car. Just pick up the phone, call AAA and ask for Francis at Diamond Security. And remember, tip him well!

11:16 pm now. Seems I made my midnight deadline. Tomorrow is a new day. See you there my friends.

 

Day 003: Alyshia

What? Who? Ozzie Nelson?!

So here I am, casing the neighborhood and feeling strangely like Ozzie going to borrow a cup of sugar for Harriet. No not Ozzy Osborn, but Ozzie Nelson.

If you don’t know the sitcom, Ozzie and Harriet were the ideal TV family and ran on ABC from October 3, 1952 to September 3, 1966. For the fun of it, I’ve given you the Wikipedia link. And if you’re bored, curious, or just plain nostalgic, here is a link to YouTube episodes.

Back to the story. I’m walking the streets, strolling house by house, ignoring the graffiti, and feeling mighty full of 50s style neighborly love.

I round a corner and popping out of a little picket fenced house exits the energy and laughter of Alishia along with her mother Valerie. I notice them right as they begin a game of front yard badminton.

I muster my courage and somewhat fearing the possible blows of long-handled racquets, a fear brought on by my remembrance of the thrashing I received just yesterday from a not so friendly person, I gingerly approached them in asking to take their picture.

We chat for a short time and realizing that we share a similar point-of-view of the 365 project, Alishia accepts the offer to be photographed. She has a wonderful, vibrant spirit. A natural in front of the camera, and a joy to photograph. We shot a bunch of photos. These three truly capture her personality. Go El Camino High!

HERE ARE FEW OF OF ALISHIA’S INSIGHTS:

  • Observe and Share Everything •
  • Practice Humility in Every Situation •
  • Value Community •

Lots of wisdom from a young woman! Wouldn’t you agree?

I know I’m only three days in, but one constant is already beginning to emerge:  “I’m amazed at the depth people are sharing with me.”

This thing is only beginning. Please stay with me as I figure it out. I’ll continue to push in finding new places, different people, cultures and in approaching everyone in a very organic way.

Day three and all is well!

Thanks Alishia for your contribution.

Talk Tomorrow!

RR

Day 002: Driving Forward

Today’s entry: Travel log style.

11:30 am: Early lunch with family. Almost decide to shoot Chef Abraham (owner of the restaruant where I had lunch). Discouraged by the lunch rush, I pass on the prospect.

1:00 pm: Frys Electronics, Kill two birds with one stone. How? Buy a wireless keypad for iPad and spend enjoyable 30 minutes in the demo massage chair. Now healed from the terrible ergonomics of entry one. I’m ready to comfortably blog the rest of 365.

4:00 pm: The day is burning, embark on a forced quest for stranger two, Find myself at the shopping center and harshly denied by one very cool looking person. Leaves a lump in my throat as to if I am crazy doing this project.

4:30 pm: Tugged into Golfsmith by my 8-year-old daughter. First, she wanted to be a dentist, then cowgirl, then Egyptologist, then doctor, then stuntgirl, now golf pro. Break down and buy her a 7-iron.

4:45 pm: Price golf lessons, $1000 for roughly 10 lessons – *#! Holy Heck!! Think about ways to sell my kidney.

5:00 pm: Leave store resolved to find a better way to spend daughter’s scholarship fund.

6:00 pm: We go to the driving range instead.

6:45 sh: Encino California, Ready Golf Driving Range. All is well.

7:00 pm: Hit ATM to get cash for my golfclub rental and a couple of baskets of balls. Daughter’s touting her shiny new 7 iron.

7:01 pm: Reluctantly eat $3 ATM fee!!

7:05 pm: Approach Danial and Donal. Good guys, they’re in.

As quoted by Irish cigar-toting golfing Donal as he declined to be on camera. “Daniel, the genuine article, and a gentleman to boot.”

These two guys were great. Would have been nice to get Donal on camera as well, but he left all stage honors to Daniel. We chatted for about 20 minutes and captured this photo. Dan, An accountant, moved to Los Angeles from New York in 2006 to get closer to better golfing. He quotes, “I’d rather roam on a golf course than be stuck at a desk.”

 

The Man is A Golf Ball Cannon – SERIOUSLY!

With Daniel and Donal now in the past, I’m hitting drives with my daughter. We keep hearing a solid crack and watch balls escape over the horizon’s fence and exiting the driving range at over 300 yards. There is no way I’m leaving this place without photographing the golf ball mangling man at the station to our left.

Introducing Brent, Online marketing dude at Avatar Labs. A very cool entertainment advertising agency. Turns out we know a few of the same people. Who would have thunk? I’m telling you this guy’s drive is no joke.

He leaves me this word of wisdom, “Life is Good!”

I think we should listen.

Sidewalk Ghosts Episode 44: Into The Veil

She viewed her death, and as she spiritually screamed a question in anger, she found a path that can guide us all…

Day 001: Introducing 365 Strangers / 365 Days

Slava, 61 – Professional Chauffeur

I ask him to share a hobby, after a moment of thought he said in a deep dialect, “guitar.”

I ask him to tell me his favorite tune, he laughs and is silent.

A few uncomfortable moments pass, I ask him what kind of music, he pauses, inhales, then says, “A Russian song.” 

I ask, what kind of Russian song, no response, so I let it go at that.

30 minute later, I find myself sitting in the back of his parked car, and after a silent excursion to the end of an industrial area (and feeling quite nervous as to why he stopped in such an unpopulated area in route to dropping me at the airport) he leans over the seat and says, “Song about friends, shall we take a photo outside the car.”  In perfect irony, my camera battery dies, so I get only a couple of frames. But his words and the experience (especially after the painful day I’ve had) have opened my heart beyond photos.

SO BEGINS THE 365 JOURNEY.

September 9, 2011, now hours later and looking back at the day, I sit at thirty thousand feet or thereabouts. Courtesy of US Airways flight 711, Philly to LA, and on such a patriotic and emotional day with it being so close to the 10th anniversary of 911, I’m forced to truly look at life’s priorities and my regard for the world around me.

There is something about flying that is meditative, and surely being crammed into a plane is a powerful motivation to understanding fellowman. Sitting across the aisle is the smelly sock traveler (sans shoes). I force myself to think beyond the nasal discomfort; and, digging deep into my compassion, I choose to re-examine the humanity of the situation.

My findings… the stranger across the row from me is just as uncomfortable as I am about the situation. My ruling (partially derived from the, I’m guessing, Swedish language he yells in doing his best to communicate with a woman seated several rows in front of him), is that she is probably his exhausted wife. So pausing to put myself in his contaminated shoes, I ask myself. Could it be that they’ve been traveling for many hours, and in a moment of fatigue, and having not been seated next to each other on a very crowded flight, are unintentionally disregarding the other passengers? To top it off, I’m sure he is aware of the smell of his feet, but perhaps the pain of being in tight shoes for endless hours has gotten to him (I’m guessing they are on the last leg transfer from an international flight).

Now, this whole exchange occurs in nanoseconds, and my frustration has hit its highest beat. But, being the self-disciplined man who I am (or think I am) I force myself to slow my thoughts. To redirect my pointing finger away from unleashing cabin attendant furry and temptation to push the red call button. Instead to simply redirect my actions toward twisting open the air vent above my seat. “No harm, no foul,” I chant to myself. So what, a little re-circulated foot funk never hurt anyone… right?

The watering in my eyes subsides. The rising toe vapors dissipate. But more beautifully, my mind clears in self-examination. Looking ahead to the next five hours of air time that I must spend with not only the unknown man now reclining to my right. But the entire company of strangers I am sharing airspace with.

My beverage arrives, I take a sip, wash down the salted almonds, wipe some ice on my forehead, and refocus my consideration per all the other strangers who have no choice but to co-exist within the confines of the five-hundred-mile-per-hour airspace we were sharing.

Then it. like a ton of bricks, it hit me! “We are all in this existence together.”

From that point, it takes only a moment for me to realize that it’s time for me to procrastinate no longer in committing to a grand blog commitment; one that has been rolling around in my head for years, and one that I have been slightly frightened to begin, for it is a gigantic undertaking. Yet empowered I am, and with clarity the likes of a man awakened under the influence of smelling salt, I boldly pledge to complete… it’s time for 365 strangers in 365 days.

The goal, every day for the next year, I’ll approach strangers, photograph them, and promptly blog the experience.

Rain or shine, hot or cold, healthy or ill, I promise to not miss a day.

I’ll do my best to create interesting photos, and for the sake of entertainment, work to get myself into a sticky situation from time to time. It’s a huge undertaking, I know, and I’m sure there will be some hero photos and some not so magnificent ones.

But Let’s just see what happens!

A little more about Slava: He migrated with his family from Ukraine to the United States in 1989 in pursuit of a new life. A mechanical engineer by trade he is now a very kind and entertaining chauffeur in Philadelphia. I asked him a few questions. A very reserved man, I did not want to force him too deeply into telling his full life story, but he told me enough to give me a pretty good feeling for who he is. Plus, we were both on tight schedules, he having other fares, and I with a plane to catch. The photos are taken on a dead-end road just to the side of Philadelphia airport. Shot only four frames due to limited time and camera battery.

Nice to meet you Slava. Thanks for pushing me to start 365!