This backyard swing may not have looked like much.
The first night in my current house, I stood in the kitchen and looked out the window at the backyard and I said, “That swing has got to go.” The wood looked old. The chain was rusted. It was an ugly old swing, left behind by the house’s former owners. It was easy to dismiss but, the first time I sat in that swing and I let the wind gently rock me back and forth, I fell in love with it.
It was my place to go if I was feeling down or if I just needed some time to myself. If the world was getting too chaotic or if I came home hating my job or cursing biology, I would sit on that swing and the gentle rocking would take all of my troubles.
That swing went from being an eyesore to being home.
A little over a year ago, our town got hit by a violent storm. Throughout the night, rain pounded on the roof, the wind shook the windows, thunder made the house tremble, and the flashes of lightning were so bright and frequent that I barely noticed that the power can gone out. In the morning, when the rain had finally become a drizzle, my sister and I stepped outside. Our backyard was flooded and littered with debris. Our neighbor’s tree had collapsed, smashing his fence and then crashing into our yard.
Underneath the tree were the crushed remains of the swing.
I was upset, even though I knew it was just something that no one could have controlled. I didn’t blame my neighbor. I certainly didn’t blame the tree. I didn’t even blame the storm. There was no one to blame. I guess we were lucky. If the tree had fallen in a different direction, it would have hit our house. If the cats had been outside, it could have fallen on them. When we cleaned up the backyard, we didn’t find any dead squirrels, birds, or possums under the tree. It could have been so much worse.
The man who lived across the street helped us to move the remains of the swing out of our backyard. We put it on the curb so that the city could pick it up. Because of the storm, the debris left by the storm were not picked up for three weeks. But the swing only lasted a day on the curb before someone — I don’t know who — picked it up. I take some comfort that someone took it, rather than it being tossed in a garbage truck. The swing is serving a purpose somewhere.
One year later, I still miss that ugly old swing. I guess I always will.
I simply can’t resist the opportunity to explore an abandoned house. Check out this backyard!
A few weeks after I took these pictures, the city sent down a landscaping crew who mowed the grass and tossed out all of the tables and the chairs that had been left in the backyard. It made me sad watching them do it. I don’t know who once lived in that house or why they left their gate open but I’ve always wondered if they ever came back looking for their plastic chairs. Watching it all get tossed in a dumpster felt like the end of an era.
I used to enjoy walking around the campus of SMU on the weekend and taking pictures. Here are a few that I’ve always liked. The first two are of SMU mustangs, which were done by an artist named Miley Frost. Below the mustangs are two pictures of the statue of SMU’s football legend, Doak Walker.
Architecturally, the SMU campus is pretty boring but I’ve always liked these two statues. The Mustangs are wild. Doak is disciplined and determined. They represent something more than just a college.
It’s kind of a strange thing to say, but watching Quentin Tarantino films has become a special family affair at my house. I shared in a previous post that my son and I drove about 4 hours to Dallas to attend the “Roadshow” version of THE HATEFUL EIGHT back in 2015.
Well, back in 2019, our family was on a vacation in Perdido Key, FL when ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD was released. Of course we planned to go see it on one of the days while we were there. None of us wanted to have to wait an extra week to see the movie. So, in between days on the beach, visiting the local golf courses and showing off our putt-putt golf skills, we made our way to a theater over in Pensacola to see Quentin’s latest. We loved it!! I didn’t get a picture at the theater, but afterwards I took the kids to a restaurant to have a dinner of fresh seafood by the ocean. I snapped the picture below after we finished up.
That was a wonderful day, and it centered around the love of a family and an excitement and appreciation for Quentin Tarantino. Happy Birthday, Mr. Tarantino!
I took these pictures of downtown Richardson, Texas on a rainy evening many years ago. I stood out in the rain and got soaked but I didn’t care because I had my camera and I was capturing the moment. The downtown might not look like much but there was a comforting familiarity to it that I loved. Sadly, many of these buildings are gone now. The downtown has been rebuilt and modernized but I’ll always think of it as being the way it was.
How many of you remember something specific that you did on February 9th, 1994? I do! I was sitting in a movie theater in Conway, Arkansas watching the goofy Jim Carrey comedy ACE VENTURA: PET DETECTIVE. I already knew he was a funny guy based on his various appearances on the sketch comedy show IN LIVING COLOR. I also remember seeing him in that vampire comedy ONCE BITTEN (1985) with Lauren Hutton when I was in junior high. To be honest though, when I was watching ONCE BITTEN in the mid-80’s, I was much more interested in Lauren’s character than I was in Jim’s. On this particular day in February of 1994, I was more interested in being at the theater because I had a major crush on the girl that was there with me. I figured the movie would be pretty silly, but that’s okay because I don’t mind silly comedies when they’re done right. Admittedly, I was also curious to see if Jim Carrey could actually carry a film by himself, and if the film would be as funny as the trailers I had seen.
I had settled in and was enjoying this film, when the montage shared below appeared on-screen, accompanied by Aerosmith’s “Line Up.” At the very end of the montage, when Ace Ventura resorts to chloroform to slow down the Dolphin player on the track, I probably laughed harder in the theater than I ever had up to that point in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard since either. The stars had all aligned and for that moment, I thought Jim Carrey was the funniest person on earth. Enjoy!
On a sunny day last November, I stepped outside and spotted something in the upper corner of the garage door.
One spider was working hard to spin a web.
You’ll have to forgive the quality of some of the images. The spider was too busy to stop and pose while I took its picture.
I went on a walk and when I came back an hour later, both the spider and its web were gone. It was a windy day so I imagine the web only lasted a few minutes before it was blown away. I’m glad the wind took care of it for me but I hope the spider knows that I was impressed with its hard work.
I woke up and saw that a thick fog had descended over the neighborhood. I know better than to let a good mist go to waste so I grabbed my camera and I went for a walk.
I had a man pinned down with his face pressed against the asphalt at a barbecue in Georgetown, Washington D.C. – July, 2007 and I was about to spank him in front of 45 people.
EARLIER….
Georgetown in July and August is like living inside of Vick’s Vaporizer with the swamp gas rising in the morning. When you think of D.C., you might think of the Washington Monument, museums, and overly horny politicians, BUT there is another side to the city and it is swampy and forested and that is where Washingtonians live. In fact, every neighborhood in DC looks more like the forest is trying to take the neighborhood back to when the World was young. Georgetown is even more like this because it is rife with ravines, towpaths, canals, and apartment buildings where the back doors look like they open to magical forests.
My apartment building was painted brick in the front and had a backyard area for garbage, barbecues, and a 50 yard long sloped driveway that fed all the way down to the towpath canal. The area was choked with trees and life. During cicada season, you could not see the ground and only heard the satisfying crunches as you made your way to the buses to take you downtown to make your living. I grew up not far from Georgetown and the memories were fresh and remain so today. The memories of my father were with me too- they were etched forever on my forehead, chin, back, and arms.
There had been a bad storm the week before and the city had lost power. I unfortunately had bought an entire month’s worth of beef, chicken, and pork. Without refrigeration, it was all going to spoil; so, I decided to have a barbecue for my entire building and feed the multitudes. People brought beer and wine and, as always, there was a group of people who snuck off to blow weed behind the oak trees. I semi-recognized everyone, but I didn’t know their names. I was chatting with my neighbors and there was a girl about 25 feet away from our conversation. She was from a floor or two above me and she looked like the central casting version of a brown-haired sorority girl and she was beginning to scream at a man I did not recognize. It was then that another storm had come to D.C.- a hurricane – and it had my name.
I was upon them both in a moment and to this day I don’t remember the 25 feet I crossed to get to them. I found out later that as they started arguing, my face went blank as I went to them. I saw him grabbing her breasts and she yelled and hit his hands. I did not know if they were there together or not; so, I asked her: “Do you need help?” She was agitated and said, “Yes, Please.” The distress, pleading, and humiliation on her face filled me with a distilled cold rage that I hadn’t felt since I saw my mother’s helpless face after my father had lost his temper- again.
He tried to get out a whole sentence: “So what are you gonna do Faaaggo…..”
Too late, I had him already off his feet and arching through the air in a controlled body slam crash! He was no weakling; he was at least 5 feet 9 inches and worked out, but I’m a 200 pound Dago and bench press 250 Lbs. with ease. Important side note: If you’re gonna fight, fight. If you’re gonna shoot, shoot. AND if you’re gonna bodyslam a man into Georgetown’s finest asphalt – YOU JUST DO IT – NO TALKING. The air left his lungs. He was lucky his mouth didn’t make contact with the ground or the dental bills would’ve been immense. The 45 people at the barbecue went silent and stared agape at me and this subjugated man.
He tried to speak….”Fuck you…Faaaago….” “Shhhhh….” I said as I chicken-winged his right arm with my right and used my left hand to push down on the side of his face slowly turning it so the sharp pebbles began to dig into the left side of his face. “UGGHHHHHH…” He moaned. “Shhhhh…” I said shaking my head like a didactic parent.
His right eye strained to its corner to look up at me. “I’m going to let you go, but you are going to apologize to her (I turned my head to his victim), everyone here, leave and you will never return.” I said. The girl stood up, took a breath, crossed her arms, and waited for his apology. I turned his head so I could speak clearly. “Fuck you….Whore!” He said. The crowd made a collective wincing – “Ooooooh” The Hurricane arrived.
In a split second, I decided his punishment with this logic: Blood for blood, pain for pain, and in his case: humiliation for humiliation. “I’m gonna do what your Daddy shoulda done. I’m gonna take your pants down and spank your bare ass purple!” I said. He began to studder. “Y-y-y-y-y-y-you… w-w-w-w-w-w wouldn’t.” he said. “Yes, I will.” I replied. Everything was silent. There was no breathing, no crickets, no cicadas, no wind – just the rapt silence of the crowd and the forest herself. I moved my knee to his back and brought my left hand to the waistband of his khaki shorts as I continued to use my right hand to keep pressing his face into the asphalt. I grabbed his waistband firmly and gave it a shake before doing my windup. Everyone inhaled with a collective gasp. The eye of the Hurricane was directly overhead. I began my wind up….. “W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-wait….” He begged. I paused. “Ok.” He tried to bring air into his lungs. His right eye looked at his victim- “I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry I grabbed your titties.” “And?” I asked firmly. “A-a-and I’m s-s-s-sorry to all of you and I’ll never come back.” He said. His eye looked at me and everyone else’s eyes looked at me, but they were all looking at the wrong person for the judgement. If they had looked at the right person, it would’ve never happened in the first place. My head turned and I looked directly at Her. Soon, everyone turned to look at her too. My face was passive and I looked at her with my Italian inquisitive eyebrows and then I looked down briefly at him. His eye had welled with tears as his eye met with hers. My eyes returned to her. She held his fate with the power of the Ancient Queens. She was biting her bottom lip and moving her eyes around with what I was sure was the same expression she had when she took the SATs. The Queen gave a brief nod. I returned it. In one fluid motion, I had him on his feet and gave him a shove to his back. He stumbled then broke out to a full-on sprint. He got 30 yards away and turned back and shouted: “Fuck you, faaago..” I started to move towards him to finish my work and he bolted. The Hurricane had passed. I made a brief sigh, went over to the picnic table, and pointed to the 2-liter Coke and a man met my gaze with his hand gesture saying – Sure– ALL YOURS! I nodded at him, poured, took a swig, got up and went to the door. It was heavy and slammed behind me. I waited a moment and then, I heard – “Did that just fucking happen?!” I shrugged, went back to my apartment, and went to bed.
Living near a creek, we occasionally do get visitors. These fine ducks decided to take a break in our front yard on their way back home. They were enjoying the warm weather.
Through the Shattered Lens 