I like to think of myself as technologically capable. But there is sometimes a little whisper in the back of my brain that says “it’s way beyond you.” I’m pretty sure these notes that reside on most electronics belonging to Roger have something to do with it. Useful to him, but to me they are reminders that nothing is quite as straightforward as it seems.Perhaps someone in the ecycling world will create poetry from them:
Records clean, monitors okay!
Does not Trans. No squelch.
Playback (sometimes) left chan noisy.
It has now been adopted by a new generation, who despite all that digital has to offer, still want to explore film. I knew they were out there.
*This is the first in a series, “Dad’s Basement Diaries.”
While James had flag football practice at a community park, Delaney and I took off to explore the surrounding neighborhood. What did you think this post was about?
She initially complained, but I told her we’d just go up one side of the street and down the other. For some reason, that was acceptable. There was a community garden at the park and most of the houses on the street had abundant yards of their own. Delaney took this picture of apples growing from the scrawniest tree I’ve ever seen to bear fruit. It was happy enough I guess.We then encountered a huge dahlia and nosy flamingo. Each home was unique, some were obscured by purposeful plantings, while others were accessible by bridges or other unusual entryways. Sometimes I marvel that we are in a city. And I am thankful we are.