boston

Those Urban Beaches

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Growing up urban beaches held no interest for me.  I went to Coney Island once as a kid, once as an adult.  The time as an adult was cut short abruptly when a hurricane blew through.  Not a rainstorm.  An actual honest to god hurricane.

Urban beaches have coarse sand and shells and cold water.  They are overcrowded and they kind of smell bad.

When I went to Revere Beach, my point of view changed.  Yeah, it isn’t a Caribbean beach with silky sand and cold water.  But it has charm.  Tons of it.  You get those gritty city photos of people enjoying summer, city style.  Different, but still pretty good:

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Put me in coach

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Me and baseball. Not a match made in any heaven, not at all. Really always swore I didn’t like the game. Just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooring.

When I got the opportunity this past weekend to go to a Red Sox game, I was apprehensive. The tickets were free, so no loss there, but I was thinking this wasn’t going to be my sort of thing. I always have my handy-dandy camera with me, which turns even the most boring endeavors into picture taking opportunities.

But, this turned out to be a lot of fun. I realized that even before I got into the stadium:

Yeah, OK, not uncommon to see a guy dressed as a hot dog, but he kind of looks like an Armadillo to me.

Of course, he was a sign that the ball park would be a place of all kind of culinary delights:

The monster dog. What a great name, but the ice cream helmet turned out just to be a plastic baseball helmet with soft serve in it.

The scenery itself was pretty nice too:

I love photorealism and these Americana neon signs, so the ball park was heaven in that respect for me.

And now to the Sawks fans. That’s how the Bostonians say it, Sawks. Here they are:

They were playing the Brewers, by the way and actually won, but that was almost secondary, when the scoreboard featured things like this:

Getting hit by a pitch that many times. Poor guy. And things written in foreign languages like this:

As the last picture, I give you this guy and I’ll explain in a second why:

I love the loopy look on the guy’s face. I’d be loopy too if I were selling $4 ice cream to people all day at a baseball game.

OK, Red Soxs, you won me over.

The possibilities are well, endless

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There are very few things I don’t like to photograph. Ask me about anything and I’ll tell you I love photographing it. One of these things are these decaying looking neon signs. They are art work in and of themselves with all of their colors and when you add my magical photo editing skills, well, the possibilities are as I said, endless.

Enough chit chat. The work:

I love photorealism and I try to put at least some small element of that in every photograph.

I am also incredibly unoriginal so I bite off of the masters, a lot. In this case it is Walker Evans, depression era photographer who spent the last part of his career photographing stripes on the road. Ah, that is just great. Well, anyway, some Walker Evans-inspired work:

Sepia toned paradise:

I’d like to entitle the following series….

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Candy I will never eat. All of this made me wonder what on earth people are thinking these days, when it comes to things they feed their children.

Exhibit A:

Seriously, though this is just sugar, it is still gross, to me. Grosser:

More of the yuck? OK. So, kiddies, this is not coconut:

Those are worms. Up next, cricket licking:

Or, different bug life? There too:

Disgusting. Simply disgusting.

The eternal “why”

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In “A Room with a View,” George Emerson, during the vacation goers trip to the Italian countryside, climbs up on a tree and starts screaming “beauty, beauty.”

Anyway, I thought these following images were also examples of what George was calling out for so eloquently.

Here goes:

Flowers are so difficult to photograph. I tried as hard as I could not to make those up there look like what you’d see in a photography exhibit at your local Starbucks. Not that there is anything wrong with it, but I am trying for something a little bit beyond that.

Here’s are two other things that could be cliche city:

I love this kind of iron work, but this can really veer again into the type of picture that comes with the frame you just bought. Same goes for the peeling paint, that I stole from Man Ray anyway. I still have a lot more practice before these photos get anywhere beyond that.

Glorious Gastronomical Gluttony

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I’ll be the judge of that.

I am, as my faithful fans know, constantly seeking the perfect burger. Some people love fine wines, others dark chocolate. Me, its the humble hamburger, invented when some angry cook smashed a meatball because it wasn’t cooking fast enough and put it in between two pieces of bread so someone could walk and eat at the same time.

This place, Mr. Bartley’s Burger Cottage had me at hello with the menu:

I nearly ordered the Dick Cheney burger, but someone the thought of that man made me lose my appetite.

And then there is this recent addition:

And, the decor, really really really interesting:

Love how Bill is wearing the dress (sorry for the blurriness):

Self explanatory:

Reagan sells cigarettes:

Onto the food. I’ll start with the good:

This is a frappe, which is New England for milkshake. Super sweet and absolutely delicious. Really really good.

And now for the hamburger:

WOW. I waited about a half an hour for my food. This thing finally arrived and I spent five minutes trying to figure out how I was going to eat this thing. I asked for extra bread and they said no. It was a double burger, two giant patties. Good lord. I finally used a knife and fork. Took out the joy of the burger eating. It was just too much. And then there was the name of this thing — the George W. Bush burger. I had to say I wanted George W. Bush. Why oh why?

The burger itself was charred on the outside. I’d give it a 6/10. However, those orange fries next to it, were made of sweet potato and completely divine. I kept eating and eating them.

I think this place is worth another visit. The Bush burger may not have been the best choice, so expect a follow up to this one.

Glorious Gastronomical Gluttony

/ nataliar77 / Leave a comment

I’ll be the judge of that.

I am, as my faithful fans know, constantly seeking the perfect burger. Some people love fine wines, others dark chocolate. Me, its the humble hamburger, invented when some angry cook smashed a meatball because it wasn’t cooking fast enough and put it in between two pieces of bread so someone could walk and eat at the same time.

This place, Mr. Bartley’s Burger Cottage had me at hello with the menu:

I nearly ordered the Dick Cheney burger, but someone the thought of that man made me lose my appetite.

And then there is this recent addition:

And, the decor, really really really interesting:

Love how Bill is wearing the dress (sorry for the blurriness):

Self explanatory:

Reagan sells cigarettes:

Onto the food. I’ll start with the good:

This is a frappe, which is New England for milkshake. Super sweet and absolutely delicious. Really really good.

And now for the hamburger:

WOW. I waited about a half an hour for my food. This thing finally arrived and I spent five minutes trying to figure out how I was going to eat this thing. I asked for extra bread and they said no. It was a double burger, two giant patties. Good lord. I finally used a knife and fork. Took out the joy of the burger eating. It was just too much. And then there was the name of this thing — the George W. Bush burger. I had to say I wanted George W. Bush. Why oh why?

The burger itself was charred on the outside. I’d give it a 6/10. However, those orange fries next to it, were made of sweet potato and completely divine. I kept eating and eating them.

I think this place is worth another visit. The Bush burger may not have been the best choice, so expect a follow up to this one.

Yes…

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(and I refuse to believe this guy didn’t plan this), this man is asleep the entry sign to the Harvard T-stop:

Yes, Harvard currently has an endowment of $30 billion. Yes, Harvard is the largest landowner in Cambridge.

I feel smarter already

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Where is this lovely house I just posted? Well, there will be picture hints and then a big reveal. First, what other place has entrances with these kinds of sayings on them:

Good lord. That is just rich. If you can’t say what it says, or actually have a life and don’t want to bother with trying to decipher what its says, here it is: Open ye the gates that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in. Oh ma god.

If that is on the gate to entering this place, it is only fitting that it looks like this on the inside:

Give up? OK, we’re here:

Yup, I’ve gone back to school. My acceptance letter finally arrived, 13 years later. Better late than never. NOT! I once saw a guy entering the campus, probably through the gate featured above, wearing a Santa hat and a Speedo. He was relieving himself and dropping $5 bills. Did I mention it was December at the time?

Anyway, here’s another shot:

Look at this poor kid with the coffee in the front of the photo. And these people:

These are the kids who were just just accepted to this place. They all looked like they needed a long vacation and a few hugs. Ah, children, its all just starting for you. Just starting.