Please, don’t call me Steven Meisel

I bought these shoes because they screamed beach, but when I put them on, my feet started screaming. Out loud, how much they hated these shoes.

Anyway, since I was old enough to plunk down my money to buy Vogue, I’ve loved their advertisements for all kinds of frivolous things I don’t need and still can’t afford. In my early days of photography, we are talking round about 16 or so when I was taking pictures with a Ricoh (is this company even still around?) point and shoot, I took a makeup compact and arranged it up with a bunch of other things and took a picture of it up close, with the Ricoh. The results — no, I’m not Herb Ritts yet. I’m not Herb Ritts now, but I think these are better than my rudimentary efforts.

Anyway, here’s my take on the shoes:

and scene.

The wit, escaping me now

No, its not anything deep fried, or a picture of some kind of god awful alligator-related knick knack. Its just a fountain a bright, sunny Florida day with water coming down from it:

Be blinded by the genius of the image. Or not.

Glorious Gastronomical Gluttony

Florida-style. Seriously, how could I not try this when I saw it on the menu?:

I am of course referring to the deep fried cheese cake. Now I bet the readers from some side of the world where deep frying well, pretty much everything isn’t commonplace will be saying this is a rather disgusting choice, but trust me, it wasn’t:

It had, as promised, ice cream and cinnamon and kind of resembled cheese crepes, but really good cheese crepes. I give it a 9.5, not only for being good, but for proving something else to me once again. Cheese cake, at least according to my palate is good as long as it is deep fried, in ice cream or some other thing is done to it other than just being regular cheese cake. Regular olde cheese cake, I can’t take, but deep fry it, or cover it in ice cream and you got me.

Attention Top Chef 4 contestants. Deep fry a dessert and I promise that you will win. Or at least earn my respect.

Blur

This shot was inspired by the brain’s ability to distort memories:

Wait, what? No. This was a Florida road I shot out the back door of our kicky PT Cruiser that on fifteenth look intrigued me slightly. And as usual, I could not leave well enough alone:

Photography 101, but I like it. Ducks to avoid flying fruits and vegetables. My public, my fans, I think the b&w would look great on a t-shirt. Agree or disagree? WRONG, Morton!

Irritating the wildlife

When you visit the lovely Everglades…:

You try not to irritate:

the wildlife:

Dark photo, I know, but the animal, it is there. I bet the alligator doesn’t use the fact it is the same color as the water to its advantage. But on our little trek through the Everglades, one person decided irritating this 8 foot reptile whose kill switch is god only knows where was a good idea:

This was our intrepid guide through the Everglades, a lifelong resident of the region. How did he decide to irritate the wildlife? Well, he thought it would be wise to throw marshmallows into the water for that half ton killing machine to eat. And then decided to grab that thing by its snout. Capn’ Everglades would not allow me to photograph that. I have no idea why. Did I mention he told me to “give mom the camera and get in the water” to have a up close and personal photo with our calm, docile friend?

Do I look like someone who wants to be featured on the Oddball segments on Keith Olbermann? Uh, the answer to that is … no.

And here is some irritating wildlife:

Now I don’t usually mind the wildlife, as long as it doesn’t sit and stare at me waiting to be fed, but Mr. Pelican over here bordered on the really irritating. Capn’ Everglades assured me that the thing was harmless, but I wasn’t convinced. Pelican — you took it too far.

635

What is 635? That is the exact number of photos I took in Florida over eight days. I know, that is so few, right? And how many of them did I like? Seventeen? Ten? Three? I’m going with three. And here they are:

The few, the proud, the three photos I actually liked out of 635. Maybe I’m not as good of a photographer as I thought….