Photos Of The Week

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 My week in photos..









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TETON TIME TRAVEL

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Morning in the Snake River canyon. I don’t know when exactly it happened, but at some point I realized my life was following patterns; places I was living, things I’d do, people I’d meet, opportunities I followed. And so it went. Jackson Hole, Colorado, Southern California. Not everything went according to plan. There were heartbreaks, big ones, little ones, inconsequential ones and ones I made up to prevent myself from changing and compromising. More about that? No. Not now. In my mind I’d string together great thoughts about the reasons certain things were happening. My first radio job, getting into cable television, why I had to go to Colorado and the disasters that broke my spirit for a while. Getting down into Southern California thrust me into a culture of entertainment. Many of the cable networks had major offices there, and I did some work on live television producing and hosting shows featuring actors, athletes, politicians, and went on to co-host a show for the Lo...
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RAIN DANCE

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Rain started coming down ,  I heard it, and went downstairs into the garag e and pulled the canvas cover off the BMW , p ul led it back and rubbed it down with a rag and brought back the lust re. In the corner on the bench were pliers and bo lt cutters, pipe wr enches g reased up and taking grime from a thousa nd tears and I pulled open the dr awer, fondled the little jig saw and the socket wrenches, all chrome and cli nking in the wood bottom drawer and I shut that, reached up on the panel above the work bench and took down a roll of black plastic elect ician's tape and pulled off a long strip. I cut the tape into small pieces and balled them up and threw the m back on the work bench e xcept for tw o I put o ver my eyes so I couldn't see. Walked around the garage shop and put my hands on the BMW and said good bye to the old car that carried me up and away from that time when it was the same blue-grey color of her eyes and I blasted mount ain curves and pe a led on...
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SUPER BOWL HANGOVER

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Already I'm suffering from a Super Bowl hangover, and the game's barely over.  How's that?  While I love football--college bowl games are tops, no BCS playoffs for me--the Super Bowl means the end of the season, the page turns, mid-year NBA and that's no party.  March Madness?  More sadness.  And on it goes.  Here's the cure; local SoCal sports values.  They start in February and go through April. By then, it's baseball season and all is well.  So where, you say, to hang?  What to do besides pool halls and fantasy baseball drafts?  Listen closely.  Coming soon, my best local sports values.  Hints?  No golf, no skiing, no running along the beach.  These are real events in real venues, places to go where you may not have been.  Stretch the dollar like the old days.  No bowling (although 'dat's a good one', Arnold sez).  Nah, no arm wrestling joints or skateboard parks.  These are sure winners, bang-f...
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