I've again been going through the random .jpeg files on my PC's hard drive, and I have located some more which defy easy categorization or even comprehension.
Take the one below. It's a photo I snapped in Bishop, CA, of a local bar. It's clear this establishment is not some fey little fern bar or a place where twentysomethings try to pretend they're Frank or Dino at the Sands. No, this looks like an honest, workingman's drinking place. . . . . . . a joint where Bob and Earl meet after work to knock back Scotch with beer chasers while they debate the merits of various pickup trucks ("Yeah, those Dodges got Hemi engines, but I like the way my Chevy handles mud!"). John McCain would doubtlessly be welcome here; Barack Obama would be eyed suspiciously. If there is really a God, the bartender at this place had to be named "Fred":
People who visit Las Vegas think Las Vegas is weird. But those of us who have lived in Las Vegas know it is actually normal compared to the rest of Nevada. Exhibit A: the billboard below which I photographed in Pahrump, NV. Yes, it is an actual billboard for a brothel. It was when I stopped doing double-takes at such billboards------when they started to look mundane and everyday to me-----that I realized I had spent too much time in Nevada and it was time for me to leave:
This sign graces a small grocery in Graham, Virginia. I took this photo when visiting my former LLH partners, Jack and Carol Lewis, at their new home in Eagle Rock, VA. Was this sign a subtle hint to any potential customer planning to offer a check or, God forbid, seek to purchase items on credit? I suspect Donald Trump would be in agreement with Mick and/or Mack:
The sign below stood near the Furnace Creek campground and store in Death Valley National Park; the "reservation" for the Timbisha Shoshone tribe was located behind Furnace Creek. As with most recent claims of "tribal rights," this is pure horseshit-----Death Valley had no permanent human population, only transitory occupancy during the winter, with no tribal group dominant-----and appears mainly an effort to get a cut of the lucrative tourist business. This particular radio station could be heard for about 15 miles either side of this sign, which is not bad considering the station had to be below sea level if it was operating from the reservation. The programming on Timbisha Free Radio consisted of tribal chanting and endless rants about how European culture had destroyed Native American ways. It's good to see the Timbisha Shoshone tribe was following in the footsteps of its ancestral elders and using traditional Native American methods, like electricity and FM radio, to get its message out:
When you hear "Hawaii," what's the first word that pops into your mind? It's "junk," of course, as exemplified by this little business I photographed near the Hilo airport on the Big Island:
I'll have more photos like these as I locate them. . . . . .
Take the one below. It's a photo I snapped in Bishop, CA, of a local bar. It's clear this establishment is not some fey little fern bar or a place where twentysomethings try to pretend they're Frank or Dino at the Sands. No, this looks like an honest, workingman's drinking place. . . . . . . a joint where Bob and Earl meet after work to knock back Scotch with beer chasers while they debate the merits of various pickup trucks ("Yeah, those Dodges got Hemi engines, but I like the way my Chevy handles mud!"). John McCain would doubtlessly be welcome here; Barack Obama would be eyed suspiciously. If there is really a God, the bartender at this place had to be named "Fred":
People who visit Las Vegas think Las Vegas is weird. But those of us who have lived in Las Vegas know it is actually normal compared to the rest of Nevada. Exhibit A: the billboard below which I photographed in Pahrump, NV. Yes, it is an actual billboard for a brothel. It was when I stopped doing double-takes at such billboards------when they started to look mundane and everyday to me-----that I realized I had spent too much time in Nevada and it was time for me to leave:
This sign graces a small grocery in Graham, Virginia. I took this photo when visiting my former LLH partners, Jack and Carol Lewis, at their new home in Eagle Rock, VA. Was this sign a subtle hint to any potential customer planning to offer a check or, God forbid, seek to purchase items on credit? I suspect Donald Trump would be in agreement with Mick and/or Mack:
The sign below stood near the Furnace Creek campground and store in Death Valley National Park; the "reservation" for the Timbisha Shoshone tribe was located behind Furnace Creek. As with most recent claims of "tribal rights," this is pure horseshit-----Death Valley had no permanent human population, only transitory occupancy during the winter, with no tribal group dominant-----and appears mainly an effort to get a cut of the lucrative tourist business. This particular radio station could be heard for about 15 miles either side of this sign, which is not bad considering the station had to be below sea level if it was operating from the reservation. The programming on Timbisha Free Radio consisted of tribal chanting and endless rants about how European culture had destroyed Native American ways. It's good to see the Timbisha Shoshone tribe was following in the footsteps of its ancestral elders and using traditional Native American methods, like electricity and FM radio, to get its message out:
When you hear "Hawaii," what's the first word that pops into your mind? It's "junk," of course, as exemplified by this little business I photographed near the Hilo airport on the Big Island:
I'll have more photos like these as I locate them. . . . . .
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