Class Project

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While substituting an outdoor education class at an area high school, I had to give an assignment where the students went outside to take pictures of the area plant life, animals, and insects using the Seek app on their phones. I loaded it up on my phone as well, and decided to see how many samples of plants I could find. While I was only using my iPhone, and the app, which renders most of the pictures rather narrow, I did get a few shots I thought I would share with you.

As for the names of the plants below: weeds, bushes, and grasses will have to do. I’m too lazy to look in the app to see the names and type them out. I will say that on the first day I took a picture of the beetle, it was a fiery searcher beetle. The next day, it turned into a green fig beetle. Not sure how that happened. But I guess the app is a bit hit and miss.

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Retired from Service

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I’ve been an amateur photographer since 1976 when I saved up my money and bought a Canon Ftb. With the exception of being a professional for the Texas A&M yearbook staff in the late 1980s, and few sports gigs for newspapers, I’ve maintained my amateur status. I have taken easily a hundred thousand photos. Most of those were usable for the moment, many of them good, a few of them that were great and one or two that made me step back and wonder how I did that. I’m not sure why, but the two photos of the firetruck below fall into that last category. I was truly surprised at how well they turned out.

Part of the reason for that was that I was surprised when I found the firetruck. The discovery began when I grew tired of the modernism of Frisco, which I’ve mentioned before, and spotted Babe’s Chicken next to the Heritage Museum. The Heritage Museum is nothing to look at, given its newness, but Babe’s Chicken had enough character to get my attention. The building has been around for a while.

I walked around Babe’s taking shots, and then spotted a sidewalk and another building with even more character next to Babe’s. I immediately moved in that direction, taking pictures. It was an old garage and I spotted a beautiful old firetruck inside. It was spotless. I started looking for a way to take some pictures, and spotted a missing board in the side of the garage. The gap left just enough room for me to get my camera inside to snap a few pictures. I hope you like them as much as I do.

 

 

Frisco Doors

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In my earlier post Ugly Fountain, I commented that everything is new in Frisco, which means it lacks character. However, that newness worked in this case. Whereas my first post on Doors, was a post of older doors, this one is on new doors. I’m drawn to them because of their bright colors.

If you look closely, you can see I’ve included a self portrait.

 

Ugly Fountain

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I kept trying to take a picture of this fountain that I liked, but couldn’t seem to do it. I showed this latest picture to Heidi and she said she didn’t like it because the fountain itself was ugly. It dawned on me. She’s right. It’s just not that nice of a fountain. It reflects everything in Frisco: new, modern, with lots of edges. Nothing is weathered. Nothing has character. Well, it does have character, but the character that comes from being fashioned or made within the last 20 years. Newness does have its place, but when everything is new, it gets old very quickly. (Think about that for a moment).

I included a picture of a fountain from Union University in Jackson, TN, that I do like. Perhaps you can see what I’m trying to say.

 

I’m Standin’ on a Corner in Winslow, Arizona…

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(Originally published in April 2013).

If you grew up in the 1970s like I did, you can finish the above verse as the song automatically pops into your head. I have to say that it has been bouncing around inside my head since I told my brother, Gene who lives in Scottsdale, that I was coming over last week on I-40. He immediately let me know I would be passing through Winslow, and he didn’t have to tell me why that was important, the song jumped immediately into my head.

I had to stop in Winslow. I had to find the corner. I had to ask two different people where it was.

“Excuse me, where is the corner?”

“The what?”

I was really surprised at their response. Come on! This is Winslow. Winslow is only famous for one reason: the corner. The corner in which Jackson Browne was standing in which he had a fine sight to see. It was a girl, and this is the part where Jackson got religion, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford and she’s slowing down to take a look at me! Come on, baby! Don’t say maybe! I gotta know if your sweet love is going to save me!

Jackson knew he needed saving, but I’m not sure he was thinking the same type of salvation that we Christians think of. After all, his savior was that girl, in the flatbed Ford. She is probably old and grey by now, like the rest of us who were singing to song in the 1970s. Not much salvation there.

But back to the corner. I had to tell the people I was looking for THE corner in Winslow, AZ.

The second man I asked was able to tell me that I was close and needed to drive one block over, and five blocks downtown to find it. He had actually been there when he first moved to Winslow 18 months ago. The first man I asked, well, let’s just say his English wasn’t so good, and my Spanish was even worse.

Back to the corner.

I immediately headed downtown like any good tourist in search of my momentary Mecca of adventure. I was on a pilgrimage so to speak. Not a religious one. But one that if I wasn’t a pastor, just might become so. Let’s just face, I was taking a few moments out of my 12-hour drive for some goofy fun and wanted to find THE corner.

I did. I jumped out of my car with camera in hand and took it all in. There was the statue of … I think Jackson Browne. Funny thing is that no one was sure who the statue was for. We, the other goofy tourists, looked for a nameplate or something to indicate who the statue was, but couldn’t find anything. It’s like the people who made the corner into a visitors attraction were more interested in putting their names up than the name of the guys who made their corner famous. Odd. There were names every where. Names on the bricks, names on the corner, names on plagues telling us who had the idea for the corner, who gave money for the funding of the corner. There was even one sign that let us know the good people of Hampton Hotels declared the corner a “must see.” I’m sure they made that declaration for small contribution.

There was even a sign telling us the corner was dedicated on September 11, 1999. That was two years before the WTC bombings, so I’m sure it has nothing to do with that. But there was nothing about the people who wrote the song or sang it. We know it was Jackson Browne, along with Glenn Fry and Don Henley. But they apparently didn’t contribute any money to the corner. They just sang about it, so their names were left off of it. Really odd.

There was also a refurbished, red, flatbed Ford along with plenty of Route 66 signs. And the song, it could be heard everywhere! The entire corner was drenched with the sounds of The Eagles singing Take It Easy. (That’s the actual name of the song for those of you who missed out on The Eagles).

I have to confess that I was giddy with joy. What a way to break up the long, long monotonous drive to Scottsdale. It was great. I got to touch a bit of Top 40 history and see a town that I would never have stopped in had there not been a song about one of its corners. As far as the experience goes, the only way it could have been better is if there was a hamburger joint close by. I was getting hungry. But alas, the need for a hamburger leads us to my next adventure which I will write about in a couple of days.

Here is the picture of me and my buddy: Anonymous Bronze Statue Man! He is holding a bronze guitar as well. Look in the picture above and you can see it. I really do think it’s Jackson Browne, but it could be the organizer’s son for all we know.

(Originally published April 2013.)

Bishop Park

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It’s just a park. At least, one would think nothing of it looking on a map. But when you give it some thought, you realize how remarkable it is, being just a park.

Fifty years ago, it was just a pasture. It was a field with cows, and barbed wire. More than likely, the pond wasn’t there 50 years ago. The pond was probably added, like most of the ponds in this area. Yet, here it is, a park worthy of a stroll on a cool spring day. And given the amount of shade, even worthy of a stroll on a hot day.

 

Town and Country

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One of the benefits of living in Frisco, TX, is that it’s far enough north of the DFW metroplex, that it’s on the edge of country life. In the field next to the Frisco Athletic Center, some farmer is still growing hay. It really makes for a mixed culture with Cowboys, combines, country clubs and billionaires. Before you ask, I don’t know any billionaires, or Cowboys. I just know the Dallas Cowboys training facility is here in Frisco, and there seems to be a lot of billionaires living here given the cost of housing. (What I mean by that is, they have billboards for new homes, starting in the comfortable range of $2 million to $6 million. I don’t think Heidi and I will be putting our roots down here).