Graveyards, gimp and the decline into senility!

As we move towards the joys of spring, you know all those lovely, brave, flowers poking their head above the trench tops, birds noisily arguing and sorting territories out whilst chirping incessantly 'location, location, location, the mind naturally welcomes the thought of longer days.  If nothing else, this past winter, now finally buggering off into a receding memory, matching the ever hastening receding hairline, it's been a very long one and never ending.  But we can look back on it with some affection and a careless smile, which lasts all of 2 minutes on my ugly mug, knowing that it'll be back before Jack Frost can say 'I saw Santa Claus coming down the central heating flue, chimneys being a distant memory.

It's a happy time for there's the good weather ahead, the rain, the blue grey hues of fluffy clouds, prancing about in the azure sky.  Then there's the stroll along the river to one of my more favoured spots, the graveyard where I can hang about with a lot of people who don't mind listening to you moaning about the state of the economy, and patiently let you prattle on about this or that.  As a passing thought at this moment in time, perhaps if I was to become an actor I'd love to perform Hamlet there, at least the audience would have some real appreciation of the 'Alas poor Yorick, I knew him well' speech, as I hold his skull in my hand.  Graveyards and renditions of Shakespeare are vastly underrated as natural bedfellows in my opinion.

Be that as it may, I'm slowly plodding through the 4,000 odd photos I took in the US, both trying to put them into categories for a slideshow and do the necessary improvements using GIMP, a wonderful photo editing programme that can be found at www.gimp.org for those so inclined.  There are versions for mac, windows etc and best of all it's free.  As with everything concerned with new software and my mental faculties, or lack of them as I head towards a doddering autumnal season in life, it's a steep learning curve only slightly softened by its immensely forgiving nature and the ability to let me do numerous 'undo' actions due to my lack of technical knowledge being far greater than my boyish enthusiasm for playing silly buggers. But then if it keeps me off the streets and out of trouble, who cares?

Thankfully my life remains absolutely boring, apart from the occasional delight thrown in to keep me on my toes and ones causing enough of a bodily movement to remind me that I'm still breathing, although remembering most things seems to be more troublesome than forgetting them.  That I guess is due to the same problems that King Canute had, more often than not the things we want to hold back we are powerless to do so.

The suit and Wall Street!

Over the past days I've been thinking greatly about the state of the world, and I came to the unsurprising conclusion that every major disaster that has happened throughout history has been due to someone wearing a particular item of clothing of one description or another.  And rather than give an endless list of fashionable warmongering, empire building, people oppressing clothing, I thought it would be an idea to simply lump all of them into one form of clothing that largely symbolises the modern world, the suit.
    On a particularly personal note, I will admit to having a few 'off the peg' suits because that's what my previous job required.  However, I've never been comfortable in one and when reluctantly worn I always felt like a trussed up turkey dreading the Christmas meal.  In real life I don't wear them and will almost certainly refuse to attend anything that requires me to wear one.  I hate them with a passion, not because they are a suit, they are, after all, nothing more than a matching and coordinated pair of trousers and jacket.  It's what they represent that I find particularly annoying and offensive.
    At a shallow level of inspection, the suit is neither fashionable, looks particularly good when worn, or a means of inspiration.  I can't think of anything less motivational or inspiring than a suit, and whenever I see suits being paraded around the only image that comes to mind is a mindless crowd of lemmings heading towards the edge of a cliff.  Yes, I'm being contentious, rightly so, and yes, I'm being very biased in my comments, the more so because it seems to get anywhere in the world a suit is a requirement.
    'Get where?' is a good question.  Well if we break it down, that means if you want to appear 'professional', aspire and belong to the Masonic Brotherhood of Suiting Apparel, then you wear a suit.  The suit then defines you, allows you to fit in with the modern day versions of the KKK.  When wearing one you have identity and a licence to perfom any number of acts, which may be contrary to basic human decency.  In other words, a suit enrobes you, empowers you, gives you a sense of superiority; but more than that it gives any old excuse to be excused any form of misbehaviour.
    I'm not saying that every individual who wears a suit becomes a megalomaniac, or rabidly salivates with bared teeth, or wants to become a raving lunatic of dictatorial proportions, but I should imagine that 95% lean in that direction.  Those 95% are the cause of my discontent today, because it is those who manage to screw up the world we live in.  Think about it, it's always a 'suit' that causes financial markets to collapse, that sells things, that takes political decisions, that holds power, that makes laws, that does things hardly conducive to decency and uncorrupted.  And for the life on me I've never been able to understand why anyone wants to buy a suit made by Armani, Boss et al, and put even more wealth into the pockets of the already wealthy, when there are people starving in the world.  I just find it particularly difficult to find any justifiable reason for the vast difference and disparity between the money paid to those who produce the raw materials for a suit and its eventual grossly inflated and obscene price in the shops.
    This particular tirade today stems from having seen Wall Street in 'the flesh' when I was in New York.  I never took a photograph, largely due to my opposition to all it stands for, but also because this miniscule parody of enormous corruption has done more to blight the dreams and aspirations of decent people, who don't need to wear a suit, than any other organisation I can think of at the moment.  And wherever you look in the history of the last two centuries, the connection between strife, war, poverty, inequality, cruelty, and pure injustice, it always seems to come back to Wall Street and the suits who inhabit it.
 

Happy snaps and the American energy policy!

It seems that the present weather on the east coast of the USA is very bad.  Perhaps it was somewhat fortunate that whilst I was there 75% of my time was filled with sunshine, even if most of the time it was very chilly.  Being English, and with antifreeze running through my veins, it was bearable and wasn't that uncomfortable.  When the sun didn't come out to play, it snowed a little or a lot, and I recall suffering from the dreaded 'loss' of sensation in my fingers, which made taking photographs somewhat labourious and maddening.  But despite the handicap of being unable to wear gloves, they constantly got in the way and made it virtually impossible to operate the camera successfully, I 'snapped' happily away to my heart's content even though one had to suffer for one's art.

I mention this for the only reason that now slowly working through the photos I'm both happy with the end results, and amazed just how many came out successfully.  Equally, there are a number of potentially 'good', I use the word with a great deal of latitude, photos that bear all the incriminating evidence of camera shake due to frozen fingers and a shivering disposition.  Even more surprising was the photos I took, which I fully expected to be awful due to resting on the delightful stomach of a belly dancer, turned out vastly better than I expected.  I will upload some of my better efforts when sorted so you can judge for yourself.

However, looking through the pictures I've sort of noticed that I've been subconsciously more intimately involved with water and wild places, and those of cities exhibit a less than careful approach, unless I was involved in a surreal scene.  Super Mario in Times Square shows all the signs of attention to detail, as does Spiderman, but the Woolworth Building and the Rockefeller Centre much less so.  Perhaps this does no more than confirm the suspicion that the outward ostentatious nature of money and its public indecency, is of far less interest to me than watching Super Mario frivolously cavorting around Times Square at 2 in the morning.  Much the same could be said about the delight taken standing by the statue of Rocky in Philadelphia, where for the first time during the holiday I was able to wander around without the need for a jacket; it was around 2c so felt warm, much helped by the sun and clear blue sky.

Of course, there are some scenes that simply beggared disbelief, which unfortunately never get photographed for one reason or another.  As I was dragged up with a mixture of Flipper, Chips, and endless Saturday morning cinema where the lone ranger and Tonto regularly dispatched the baddie, all later replaced by the more serious flicks of the 'French Connection', 'Serpico' and their like my cinematic perception of the USA was dutifully moulded.  But then cynicism crept in for a period and I took a more enlightened view that the USA couldn't possibly be as Hollywood depicted it.  Sadly this is something of an understatement and throughout the yuletide period homes paid homage to the Griswald family Christmas home.  Yes, the inspiration for the film, 'National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation' was there in reality.  As my friend and I travelled along the interstate and freeways of Massachusetts, the citadels of luminosity revealed themselves, evermore outrageous, bedecked with Christmas lights that consumed enough electricity to power a small country for a year.  The American thirst for competitiveness was well and truly alive, and were I to award first prize it would be to the ranch we passed by one evening in the dark, gloriously adorned with hundreds upon hundreds of light bulbs for being the most outlandish attempt at wasting energy.  Second prize would go to the much more mundane effort of a six foot Santa Claus completely blocking the front door of a house.  Third place would have to be awarded to the valiant power workers, who managed to keep the electricity flowing.

We often watch the news, or read it, and America comes in for a lot of stick concerning its energy policies, or lack of them as the case may be.  And I think that the message is finally coming home to roost.  Recycling seems to be on the increase; in service stations, and other public places, the toilets have signs encouraging users to think carefully about waste paper and water; there are signs reminding employees to wash their hands, customers don't get a mention.  Of course Europe is far ahead in better environmental policies and energy saving schemes, but Americans are to be praised and encouraged for finally coming onboard the trash can revolution.  One of the most welcoming sights was the extra lane set aside for cars to use that were carrying two or more passengers, sadly nobody seem to be using it.

And so the American adventure continues!

And so the story of the 'virgin abroad' continues, and having spent a little time in Boston, Washington DC, Philadelphia and New York, each different yet each virtually the same, it's hard to imagine that I'd actually spent any time at all in any of the places.

Each of us will, individually, view such cities in our own unique way, and in doing so will likely be lumbered with the stock images of Hollywood, history and the media onslaught that's all too prevalent in a, sadly, consumerist and globally commercial world.  I, personally, am no great lover of cities anywhere in the world, and their only real compensation is the ability to offer the refuge of anonymity for those so inclined, of which I'm one.  There's something to be said for being alone in the thick of a crowd, if nothing else the madness of life becomes far more manageable and you simply extract the bits of direct interest.  Of course, a new city is one found to be exciting for it offers the opportunity to compare and contrast, and even challenge the perceptions you may have, but in the end a city is a city and all function in the same way.

I realise that I may be offering a negative view, I'm not.  Cities appeal to people because of their bustling nature, and the four mentioned above are perfectly capable of proving me wrong for those so inclined to argue with me.  All I'm saying is that I'm no great lover of cities, and the best times I had visiting anywhere were either individual places of interest, or the coastal fishing ports.  Perhaps the point I'm making is that modern cities look rarely different from each other because of the corporate need to blandly display their image in exactly the same way wherever they are; which to my mind sterilises the very unique nature of any city.

Despite those comments, each of the cities visited revealed something surprising.  There's been much play over the years that the USA is violent and that wondering around is perhaps not the best option.  I wasn't in the slightest bit concerned on my travels, even when riding the subway.  If I had any worries then it'd be on the roads where the order and lane discipline of European motorways has largely been abandoned in the States, but that's a tale of its own and best left to the likes of Hollywood's finest directors to gloss over.  One might want to watch the madness of American driving as shown in the Steve Martin film 'Bowfinger', particularly the scene where Eddie Murphy tries to cross the interstate to get an idea.  Riding the subway was an initial worry, I've no doubt due to the attention drawn to the problems of former years by the media, helped along by the stalwarts of the film industry.  It may well be different late at night, or in the twilight hours, I don't know, but riding the subway from Brooklyn to Harlem in New York, a long subway journey, nothing was more worrying than getting off at the right stop.

The New York subway was perhaps more enlightening in terms of people, nobody made any kind of eye contact, which I gather from my dear friend Stefan is perfectly normal and he did inform me that every individual is in a world of their own, listening to an iPod, reading something or other, just generally minding their own business.  Personal space was another thing I noticed, and no matter how packed the subway train was everyone managed to be surrounded by a 'force field'.  Another misconception is that everybody ignores you in New York, and if you were to drop dead they'd simply step over you, walk around you, or cross the street simply to ignore you.  During my time there people were helpful and answered any questions or queries I had, at 2am on Sunday morning in Times Square a delightful lady of Asian heritage started chatting to us without any prompting, a totally unexpected surprise given that New Yorkers have a reputation to the contrary.  The same thing happened when I spent the day alone in Philadelphia, a nice lady came up to me asking if I was lost and needed a map; she was no doubt under the illusion that I needed some kind of help, wandering around as I was with camcorder in my hand, hopelessly looking like a tourist, completely lost in a world of my own making.  For me, such a state is perfectly normal when I'm engaged with my environment, to an outsider I guess I might resemble something that might be better helped by being taken on a ride with two individuals wearing white coats.

None of the cities I visited were covered in any depth, and my visits brief.  All I can say is that none of them dispelled any thoughts I might have about not liking cities.  All were sufficiently different to engender an interest, none of them I'd like to live in.  Boston and Philadelphia were historically interesting.  Washington politically so, and New York is as garish as it is dull and grey.  Each has its own unique flavour, each is as easy to get lost in as to find something to occupy the mind for a while.  Boston has a sense of Europe about it, largely due to its history, Philadelphia a product of its own colonial history, Washington had the feeling of a working capital, closing after 6pm.  New York, the 'Big Apple' nothing like 'Sex in the city'.  For now I'll finish there, except to say that each of the four cities looked magnificent during the hours of darkness, when the skyscrapers took on their own particular identity, awash with lights, surreal and more exciting to the eye.  Perhaps, when all said and done, American cities only become American cities at night, the various vistas will remain with me a lot longer than the daylight versions.