COVID-19: Social Distancing
George wearing his mask and standing at the back door, looking out into the yard.
In the span of 5 mins I learned more about George than I expected to. At 78 years old he’s seen his share of global issues but this pandemic seems to have unnerved him the most. As a sports fan he’s disappointed that he can’t watch his favorite teams on tv.
“You know it’s bad when you can’t catch a ball game” he said as he looked towards the flat screen.
When I arrived he was on a cellphone discussing financial matters with a bank. After he ended the call he shared with me how much of a pain it has been to learn to use a new phone. “Im an old school kind of guy,” he said as he continue to explain it took 4 days for him to figure it out with tech support. It is evident George is deeply religious. I respect his passion. A large crucifix, visible over his exhausted Notre Dame hoodie, is draped close to his heart. In some way part of me believes he had aspirations to play for such a legendary team. He covets football the same as he does his religion.
George was saddened by the news of the Holyoke Soldiers Home. As I was leaving he mentioned how awful it was. I could sense a level of pain behind that statement. I asked him if he served his country and he shared with me his reasons, both medically and familia as to why he couldn’t enlist, even after he tried in 1964.
George posed for two photographs. His mask hides his identity, but he revealed himself to me. We bridged our anonymity through the portraits I made of him. George was happy to share with me and only asked me a few questions that didn’t really reveal much of who I am. What George knows of me is that I am a photographer and he didn’t seem to eager or interested to know more. He was content revealing himself to me and sharing his work.
“I am a religious man, but I am not a saint.”
People are natural story tellers. When you ask the right questions, they will reveal more of themselves than any single portrait can. George was very happy to share with me his work. Rummaging through a box he produced several albums of his music. He offered me a copy of his albums, but understood when I declined to accept the invitation. If I met George under any other time, outside of this pandemic, he’d have greeted me and parted ways with a handshake.
“I’d give you a handshake, but we can’t. Be good kid, stay safe.”
“Thanks George. Stay safe.” Repeating to myself, “stay safe” the new adaptation for parting ways.
I wouldn’t have made a portrait of George if we weren't living in a pandemic. He wouldn’t be wearing a mask and I surely wouldn’t have be shielding my identity in a similar fashion. The face masks, the respirators, the gloves, all the safety gear we are being coerced to wear is forcing us to restructure how we interact with the people we know or people we are meeting for the first time.
Starbucks Reserve: New York City
I made these photographs back in December. They have been sitting on the sd thats has been comfortably tucked away in my Fuji X-Pro 2. I just uploaded them and processed them this evening. The Starbucks Reserve Store that opened in December is an overwhelming playground for the ultimate consumer. I looks like a lab built for an alchemist. If you can’t appreciate good food or good coffee and your like your coffee served in white foam cups by a place that just dropped the word “donuts” from their longstanding name, then don’t bother going to a Starbucks Reserve, you generally won’t appreciate it. More so, the people who will be taking your orders will not appreciate you trying to order a large hot coffee with double extra extra and a side of insulin to go with your diabetic coma infused foam cup of burnt disappointment. Do yourself the favor and save the $18.52 you’d spend on the warm fresh pastry or slice of fresh semi authentic Italian pizza and the one of many amazing coffee beverages they have, as that $18.52 will be your entire months budget for burnt coffee you so longingly desire.
Discount the fact that the Starbucks Reserve feels like an animatronic display, it is a restaurant that has more options for coffee than you could imagine. It reminded of one of those Irish bars that has 100+ beers on tap that are constantly rotating. There were 3 sections of the new build that one could order drinks from, including a full bar. We walked around and looked at both the areas you could hand pick an item of carbo goodness. I was and am still on a moderately lower carb diet, which meant I wasn’t going to eat any of the pizza and forget about the pastry. I enjoy looking at both, but wasn’t about to eat them. Ive been pizza free for 1 year and 6 months. A personal choice and proud of that. While all the food did look more flavorful and moderately more healthy and fresh than ordering a Big Mac, I still chose not to eat it.
I walked around for nearly 15 minutes looking at the decor, the well timed orchestra of hipster baristas, and the very interesting display of coffee beans arriving in a bag to be sorted or whatever they were doing. Quite the interesting process. I asked my wife, “do you think this shit is real or for show?” She said show, but who knows. I was entertained by it. Hell, it made for good photos.
If you’re a fan of bean juice, as I am, I highly recommend a visit in.
Oh, and I am pleased, rather happy to provide some good news. The photos below are made with my Fuji X-Pro 2. If you follow along and remember me saying a while back that I busted my 35mm lens when I was ejected from my bike, well I fixed it. Yes, I, by myself fixed it. I was walking through lower Manhattan and fumbling around with it. I looked closely at how it was tilted and made a bold move. I gave it a wiggle and then a push popping it right back into its sweet spot. I was so excited I pulled it up to my eye and looked through the viewfinder. Clarity. No miss focus. Nothing. All images were sharp. I saved myself almost $400 on a replacement lens. Score.
