What Am I Complaining About?

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I ask myself that question a lot of times as I sit and eat my turkey sandwich while overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge.  Millions of people make vacation plans and spend a lot of money to come and see the bridge, one of the most iconic architectural monuments in the U.S.  I come here to eat my fritos when I'm bored.

It's easy to find things to complain about in our jobs.  I do it every day to the point of ridiculousness.  A sales job can be a lonely existence and it certainly has some drawbacks, but my sales territory includes Marin County up to the bridge.  Hell, I was literally required to be there as we had a big erosion control project going on in the steep sloped hills for the past year.   I have taken great shots of the bridge from the driver's seat, while dialing in sports radio.  It's a fact of life,  I just see it all the time.

From the bridge I can be at the beach in 10 minutes to watch the surfers do their thing while I finish up my sandwich.  I do it often, it helps break up the day and it only takes 30 minutes.    Many times I try to tell myself how lucky I am to have the job I have in the area I have it.  It works for awhile, but I think the American suburbanite is programmed to complain.  Relatively speaking, (especially when compared to, say, a child struggling in Africa) everything is easy.   The fight for survival is so much less than it was 100 or 200 years ago.  Imagine the pioneers and the Westward migration.  That, my friends, was a struggle.

So I sit and watch the surfers and I think about how easy I have it and I begin to feel a sense of tranquility, and I vow to stop complaining about ridiculous things.  Inevitably my reverie is broken by the sound of my phone, the 3"x5" miracle that allows me to communicate instantaneously with nearly any part of the world, and I reach down to grab it and it falls between the space in the seat where I can't reach it.

SON OF A B*%*@!!!  Everything is a pain in the ass!!

Do You Believe in Pataphysics?

I still don't know what it means and I looked up the word Pataphysics.  Wikipedia defines it like this:

The term was coined and the concept created by French writer Alfred Jarry (1873–1907), who defined 'pataphysics as "the science of imaginary solutions, which symbolically attributes the properties of objects, described by their virtuality, to their lineaments."  (WTF?)


I doubt I ever would have known this word if I hadn't asked Eric to pose for me, and that's the beauty of photography.  Everybody always has something interesting to say or I learn about something new and interesting by interacting.   I think it's part of the human condition, we all want to give our opinion or tell our story.  In short, we want to be heard.   I approach any given subject because I find something about them interesting, and the interaction always reveals more, gives me something I didn't have before.   Now I have Pataphysics, but I'm not sure what to do with it. 


"Imaginary Solutions".  Isn't that what 5 year olds come up with when they are caught doing wrong, or when they don't understand something?Parents, now you can really throw them for a loop next time they mess up.  Instead of screaming "don't lie to me" you can simply say "(Insert Name), stop being Pataphysical. In an earlier blog about the Greer family, I'm pretty sure Dylan gave me a Pataphysical answer about the lemons and limes.  I think the Mormons have Pataphysical answers to many things (OK, that was gratuitous, but I grew up Mormon so I get to say stuff like that.  Mormon family, please don't be offended, it's not personal, just poking fun).

I have found that the surfing crowd at Cronkhite Beach is largely a professional crowd.  Many of them put their suits on after surfing and head to the law offices for a dissertation.  That really surprised me as I assumed they were much more like Eric, who definitely fits the prototypical stereotype of a surfer.  Alfred Jerry, who coined the term must have surfed and smoked weed, right?  Regardless of what he believes, or how he thinks, Eric was courteous to me and allowed me some time to do what I wanted to do.  He didn't have an obligation, but he allowed the interaction to happen and I know I'm a little bit richer for the encounter.  

Singularity of Purpose

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Whenever I'm lacking for a subject to shoot, a quick detour to the beach nearly always gives me something to put in the crosshairs.   The first thing I saw when I parked was Kona scrambling furiously around the beach chasing her orange ball and I knew she would be the subject for the day.

Action shots seem to fascinate me endlessly because they really give you a glimpse into what feels like a secret world.  What is normally a blur is frozen for all time and affords us the chance to look at every small detail at our own pace and marvel at all of the kinetic energy on display in something as simple as chasing a ball.

Kona is 2 1/2 and according to her owner is part black lab and part "heeler or something".  She is most likely at the peak of her physical powers and it was pure joy to watch her do her thing.   This brief period of time when we are at our peak is so limited and we only realize it after it has passed us by.   Seeing Kona like this, I wistfully think back to my peak and chuckle at the aches and pains I feel now, even as I walked along the beach.  

Dogs at this age never seem to tire and Kona was no different.  I watched her for 15 mintues before shooting, and worked with her for another 25, and she never stopped looking like she does in these photos.  She swam, ran, jumped, dug, ran, swam, and ran some more without any visible sign of fatigue.  An older, graying hound waiting on the beach for its surfing owner provided the perfect juxtaposition to the scene as he gave Kona the occasional curious glance from a seated position, periodically being spurred on by biological urges and trying to mount her.

When I look at the photos now, I see a stunning singularity of purpose.  Nothing else exists for Kona except the ball and every ounce of her energy is spent capturing it.  When I look, I'm as focused as she is, I become a part of the scene, there but not really there, the world around me fades away....

Abruptly my reverie is broken when my mobile rings.  I look down, I have two voice messages, a text message, 14 personal e-mails (all spam), 6 work e-mails, and 4 facebook updates.   My mind races,  I'm irritated, stressed, already going in 10 different mental directions in the first  5 seconds.  My focus is shattered, I'm a mess and all I can think about is wanting to chase a ball.