Man In Profile

That’s the title of the book by Thomas Kunkel.
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Eager, almost desperate, to find a respite from current news and commentary, I am now reading this 2015 book — gifted to me for Christmas — aloud as our post-lunch relaxation and entertainment.

“Man in Profile” is a biography of Joseph Mitchell, whose “Up In The Old Hotel“, I also read aloud about a year ago. If you have ever read Mitchell, you would surely find this read a worthwhile supplement, adding much backstory and detail that only enriches the former. And it amazingly seems to be written in a similar or at least sympathetic style.  Read ’em all.

(click on this post’s associated tags, below, for related material)

rDay Three-Hundred-Seventeen

Lloyd, a farmer from the Cove area, makes a weekly delivery of eggs to our doorstep.  He customarily leaves Charlie with a homemade beef jerky treat, perhaps to quell the latter’s barking and protective actions.  Today he left an oversize egg in a bag as it wouldn’t fit in the usual egg cartons he delivers.  Later on, we walked through strong winds and slushy streets with Charlie Boy.  And we got in another hour or so of reading aloud, now about 450 pages into the 750 page total of the Joseph Mitchell, “Up In The Old Hotel” book.  Stay tuned for more thrills.

Port Costa Weekend (January 1973)

Port Costa is a tiny, quaint outpost near San Francisco. Before he moved there and started raising a family, Dave was a gov’t colleague in L.A.; was one of two (not counting myself) obsessed Bob Dylan devotees in our office; owned and was restoring a rare late 20s Chrysler; liked to discuss poetry, Sartre, Camus and existentialism over a beer or two; had an unrivaled deadpan sense of humor; always flew under the radar; and, as a charter member of the fan club, received a Christmas card every year from the Texas parents of the deceased Buddy Holly.

SIDEBAR: I know that I had resolved not to conflate personal memories of humans (at least those not known in common with my readers/viewers) with my display of previously-undiscovered photographs unless their presence in an image had visual merit on its own — but a handful of individuals in the past were so eccentric or remarkable to me that their inclusion starts to cross that line. This regrettable tendency — which I will attempt to curtail in the future — probably owes something to Joseph Mitchell, whose book (now being read aloud to Kim by myself), “Up In The Old Hotel”, serves up accounts of eccentrics and oddities that he encountered in the saloons and streets and elsewhere in New York City during the 1930s, 40s and 50s.

rDay Two-Hundred-Seventy-Nine: Missed Opportunities

My old photographer friend, Lee Romero, used to remind us — often from a perch on a barstool — that people are creatures of habit. Today my normal, habitual pattern was interrupted and, as a result, I left the house on a shopping excursion without a camera. Of course, several visual oddities presented themselves as events unfolded while we were out on the economy:

1. While waiting in the car for Kim to withdraw cash at the bank, a pickup truck drove by, towing an otherwise empty flatbed trailer to which was affixed a dental chair, seeming to be ready for action.

2. Striding across the snowy G.O. parking lot came an individual (with a woman on his arm who could have been J.J.) who appeared to be a perfectly-executed human version of Zeke of Doonesbury infamy, perhaps visiting from Seattle.

3. Awaiting the change of a traffic signal, the driver side window of the car in front of us suddenly opened, whereupon an outthrust arm dangled and vigorously shook a pair of men’s pants, jerking it back inside just before the green appeared.

4. My friend Eric, proprietor of an eponymous body shop, appeared driving his Jeep in cross-intersection traffic.  This is a small town, you know.

5. We saw a SeQuential truck slowly slithering through the 4-way on Island and Washington.

SIDEBAR:  While the above underscores the futility of attempting to describe the visual with words alone, occasionally we come upon writers who can do just that in a wonderfully, almost magically, successful way.  In fact, just such an example served to provide my Pattern Interruptus of the morning.  I was gearing up for our shopping trek and was about to grab my camera from the other room, when I saw Kim resting her back on the couch.  So I stopped and sat across from her, picking up my newly-gifted “Up In The Old Hotel” by Joseph Mitchell and continued to read aloud to her, until she was ready to depart.  This is a book not to be missed.