Monday, March 27, 2017


There is an exhibit at the Missouri History Museum about old Route 66. You know the tune, sung here by our own Chuck Berry. It has been superseded by Interstates 44 and 55 in this part of the country but technically still exists. 

It is well known locally for the string of small independent motels along what is now Watson Road in the inner suburbs. A few are still there but the most famous - or infamous - the Coral Courts, is long gone. It was known for its unique art deco architecture, enclosed garages and short term rates, making it St. Louis' quintessential no-tell motel. Even the New York Times took notice.                 

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Available For Duty

I like to get out on Saturday and shoot around town if the surface of the planet isn't too oppressive. Yesterday was pretty busy, though. The Washington University physics department has a spring and fall series of lectures for the public that we like to attend. The new season started yesterday with a talk about dark energy and whether it's strong enough to eventually rip the universe to shreds. Heavy stuff to start the day. Then I had to go to work in the afternoon, zip home, link up with my daughter and go to an early evening performance at The Sheldon by Paula Poundstone,          

So what's easy and at hand? More pictures from the orchid show. They're here ard ready to go so why not?

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Everyone's A Critic

Everyone and everything that walks by an art display becomes a reviewer in one way or another. You might measure the degree of interest by the amount of time spent before each work. 

As with many similar photos, this is on the Mississippi flood wall south of downtown. The display constantly changes and evolves.                  

Friday, March 24, 2017

Could Have Been 10

When starting to plan the tenth anniversary post, I drove around looking for something with that number. (Damn, It just occurred to me. I should have gone to a bowling alley.)  Roman numerals would work but where could I find a large, isolated X? These are the iron girders of the old railroad bridge across the Mississippi just south of downtown.     

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Another decade . . . need something local

Well, ten years down and whatever to go. Seems appropriate to have something local and seasonal to restart the timer. Opening day for the beloved Cardinals is only ten days away. These variations on the mascot were on the ever-changing part of the Mississippi flood wall where graffiti is permitted.

Those facial expressions, even as cartoons, are saying very different things.          

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

STL DP's 10th Anniversary

Honestly, I had no idea.

There was the childhood Brownie camera and the 35 mm Yashica film camera that came with the woman I married (both of them happily still around). The trip to India and Nepal in 2000, when I brought along one of the first consumer digital cameras. The video producer who said, perhaps out of flattery, that I had a good eye and recommended the Maine Media Workshops, where I spent five of the happiest weeks of my life. The colleague in my legal specialty in Seattle who had a daughter going to college in Washington who had heard about this City Daily Photo thing that might be of interest.

And Virginia and Jing and Jack and Olivier and Grace and Steffe and C de Q and Jilly and Nathalie and Grace and William and Ming and David and Julie and Julie and Sharon and Hal Cyon and Bibi and Stef and Luis and Bill and Kate and Kim and all the people I've forgotten to mention and all the people who have come and gone, leaving memorable images. And, of course, Eric. And, of course, the dear, departed Birdman.

There has been an anniversary post every year.  Being a little short on time and creativity, the photo above is the entrance of 10 South Broadway downtown, with a little digital goofing. I was surprised how many of the old pix were not taken in STL. From the beginning of the series:

2008 - A Buddhist monk in Thailand. I got in some trouble for taking this without his explicit permission, a cultural taboo I was unaware of. Our guide actually got down on her knees with forehead to ground, begging forgiveness for the idiot Yank. I won't know if it did any good for at least a few incarnations.

2009 - On Bourbon Street in New Orleans. This guy and his friends have been out there for years, posing for tips. The store beside him actually sells huge ass beers to go, depending on your definition.

2010 - This started as an exercise in learning Photoshop, dropping in one head and face over another and blending it in. Cousin Russell never objected.

2011 - Things were a bit more creative years ago. Time grinds us down.

2012 - Not my photo! Mrs. C and I in Menton, France, taken by our dear friend Jilly.

2013 - Not what it seems. The tiles mark the intersection of St. Louis and Bourbon Streets in New Orleans. 

2014 - things start to get a little less creative. Not too bad a photo but time is linked to entropy, somebody said

2015 - just a couple of blocks away, but one of a only couple of the anniversary pictures that works in the local icon

2016 - if you are counting single digits it's good to live in a city with numbered streets.

 See all of you again tomorrow. Who's counting?

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Not My Job

Meaning floral photography. But, as I tell my clients when advising them, you play the hand of cards you are dealt. Thus, something else from the orchid show.

You know what, Wednesday is the tenth anniversary of this endeavor. Hooda thunk? And what to do to mark the occasion?