And for those that want to know the lyrics here they are:

“Fuck You!”

I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love
and I’m like, “Fuck you!”
I guess the change in my pocket wasn’t enough
I’m like, “Fuck you and fuck her too.”

I said, “If I was richer, I’d still be with ya.”
Ha, now ain’t that some shit?
(Ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a “Fuck you!”

I’m sorry,
I can’t afford a Ferrari,
But that don’t mean I can’t get you there.
I guess he’s an Xbox and I’m more Atari,
But the way you play your game ain’t fair.

I pity the fool
That falls in love with you
(Oh shit she’s a golddigger)
Well (Just thought you should know nigga)
I’ve got some news for you.
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend.

I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love
and I’m like, “Fuck you!”
I guess the change in my pocket wasn’t enough
I’m like, “Fuck you and fuck her too.”

I said, “If I was richer, I’d still be with ya.”
Ha, now ain’t that some shit?
(Ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a “Fuck you!”

Now I know,
That I had to borrow,
Beg and steal and lie and cheat.
Trying to keep ya,
Trying to please ya.
‘Cause being in love with your ass ain’t cheap.

Now I pity the fool
That falls in love with you
(Oh shit she’s a golddigger)
Well (Just thought you should know nigga)
I’ve got some news for you.
I really hate your ass right now.

I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love
and I’m like, “Fuck you!”
I guess the change in my pocket wasn’t enough
I’m like, “Fuck you and fuck her too.”

I said, “If I was richer, I’d still be with ya.”
Ha, now ain’t that some shit?
(Ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a “Fuck you!”

Now baby, baby, baby, why d’you wanna wanna hurt me so bad?
(So bad, so bad, so bad)
I tried to tell my mama but she told me,
“This is one for your dad.”
(Your dad, your dad, your dad, yes she did)
Why? Why? Why, lady?

I love you.
I still love you.

I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love
“Fuck you!”
I guess the change in my pocket wasn’t enough
I’m like, “Fuck you and fuck her too.”

I said, “If I was richer, I’d still be with ya”
Ha, now ain’t that some shit?
(Ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best
With a “Fuck you!”

I got up too late to go ‘out’ photographing.  So I decided to do an indoor photo project - this one is how frickin’ messy 4210 is.  VSO has 10 projects going at the same time and none have been completed.  The house is a lunatic asylum.  She says she will get it cleaned up before Xmas dinner but I’m afraid these  ‘before’ pictures will be the ‘after’ pics as well.

my contribution

Steve McQueen gauging my crap

Tate tots being disrespected

A great Music Video.  Especially if you’re into hauling a trailer which I am.

Denver Botanical Gardens Blossom of Lights 2017

Now that I’m reading all about Vivian Maier I decided it was time to clean and upgrade my Rolleiflex Automat - I purchased this years ago when I lived in Syracuse.  It’s laid dormant for several years which is never a good thing for things mechanical.  So it is off with Harry Fleenor in California.  Est. time in the shop is 4 months - not that it takes that long to do the repair but just I’m sure he has a huge backlog of cameras to fix.  The longest I ever waited for a repair was 1 year for a Leica IIIc from Sherry Krauter - her dad got sick in the middle so there was a delay

…is not for the faint of heart.  I shot a roll of Velvia 50 that was REALLY outdated.  All the colors were off , red tinged.  In short a real disaster.  You have a couple of options.  1] do the best you can to color correct and label it a heavy Instagram filtered shot.   2] take the image into black and white.  Here are some samples

Spent Friday nite and Saturday morning in Denver.  We live in Denver but sometimes it takes actually being downtown to see it.

Stayed at the Oxford Hotel which is Denver’s oldest hotel.  Just up the street for Union Station.They did a nice job of remodeling.  They had a bourbon tasting in the lobby featuring Colorado distilled bourbons.

Union Station is now a destination - no longer a grubby inner city train station but now a hub for all sorts of fun things.  They have branch of Snooze - what we refer to as the hipster doofus breakfast place - sorry no pictures of a hipster doofus but there was one there when we walked in.  See below

This is a short series of photos from the backyard - Things are closed up for the winter.  We can only guess as to what hides behind the veil of secrecy here.

Spent the Thanksgiving weekend with our friend Greg Reynolds. He’s from Lexington but probably has spent most of his life outside of Kentucky.    Recently for the last several years he’s been back home to help his parents - mostly his father who passed this year.  Anyway we have been saying for months that we were going to visit but it finally happened!

Greg with Lucky

Greg with Lucky

Vicki and Greg

Moi and Vicki

Just something on the street

THE hike

just sitting there was a child’s shoe

Vicki, Mrs. R and Greg

Vivian Maier is without a doubt one of the most enigmatic photographer/personalities of the 20th century.  Pamela Bannos book seems to be the most helpful in sorting out who she was and how she went about being one of the most accomplished and yet unknown street photographer.  She lived her early life in France but then came to America and lived in both Chicago and NYC.  She was a nanny by trade.  Her works were private until she forgot to pay the company storing her belongings.  Her portfolio contained pictures, negatives and many rolls of undeveloped film.  It was sold at auction and has been spread to the wind to many different individuals.  

I often wondered how her talent went unnoticed?  Did she develop her own works?  Bannos seems to answer that question at least for her work done in Chicago:

“that Vivian Maier frequented downtown’s century-old Central Camera photo supply shop. His sleuthing had brought him to the doorstep of Vivian Maier’s sanctum. The shop was celebrated as “Chicago’s Most Complete Photographic Store” and its oldest. The building’s 1930s-era green-and-yellow sign remained intact, its red neon stripes flickering underneath”

“the Wabash Street elevated train tracks. Inside, the long narrow shop presented a corridor of glass cases and counters loaded with new and old cameras of all types, along with a plethora of film, paper, and darkroom supplies. The camera store had been owned by the Flesch family for three generations and had maintained the same dedicated employees for decades. Unlike her Rogers Park neighbors who knew nothing about the nameless eccentric in their midst, Maier had from time to time in the past shared select personal information—and her passion—with these fellow camera and photography enthusiasts, who remembered her well but hadn’t known about her death until Sekula told them of it. These old-timers recalled Vivian Maier from as far back as the 1970s. They knew her name from the envelopes that they sent off for developing her film, and she had been a steady customer. She was tall, wore hats and big coats, and always carried a Rolleiflex. As Sekula told Stein, they said that “she baby sat for a living, which explains the various children in her photos. She always overdressed, which sounds like the habit of a refugee, wearing all her clothes at once. She was a tough customer, it turns out, but did indeed love going to the movies, as long as they weren’t American. Did not have a lot of money to make prints or even develop film, or perhaps preferred sitting in the dark theater to standing in the dark room over stinky trays of fixer. The countermen also remarked that Maier was very particular about the work they did for her. However, they didn’t specifically recall Maier’s photographs; everyone who came into the store was a photographer on some level, and she seldom shared her work. Vivian Maier mostly stood out because of the way she looked, her personality, and her consistent presence over the years. Still, they hadn’t seen Maier for quite some time.” 

It is still amazing that no one from the developer to the counter guys made note of the quality of work being turned out by this shy and unassuming person.

On a personal note my Father grew up in Rogers Park section of North Chicago where Vivian lived.  He too frequented Central Camera for his supplies.  I know this because he taught me the elements of photography and his supplies proudly displayed the Central Camera logo.  I do like to make a pilgrimage to CC when I am in town just to soak in all this nostalgia.

I love Instagram but for reasons that are personal. For me it’s a way to connect to a few people.  I actually avoid following folks with tens of thousands of followers unless it’s really a very interesting IG.  I DON’T aspire to have thousands of followers ( as if that was even possible).  I’ve stopped following about 20 Russian IG accounts when I read that you can go to a Kiosk in the big cities of Russia and buy followers.  I do follow 1 or 2 who’s IG is personal as it offers me a glimpse into a different world.  I just read a post about getting a free e-book on how to grow your fan base.  This is in response to that.  So you folks would be doing me a big favor by NOT following me.    @enitka

Natura 1600 by Fuji is a true ISO 1600 film with fine grain for this speed.  I did some google-ing and found that some folks shoot it at 1250 but for my first two rolls I shot it at 1600.  It is only available in Japan so to get it here makes the film a little pricey.  And of course like you’re not supposed to, I shot it first time for my nephew’s wedding - mind you I was not the principle photographer , just a guest. 

Outside shots in full sun came out amazing.  These photos were taken at the USS Grayling ( SS 209) memorial at the Sloan’s Lake Park

Porsche of Colorado Springs is like no other dealership I’ve ever seen!.  Yes they are there to sell you a car but it’s also like a museum. You can’t find a 911 R!  They had 2.  Several 911 GT3 RS just sitting there.  A Porsche tractor for God’s sake. Pictured is my friend and driving instructor, Joe Rothman who now gigs at the dealership.  

I am currently in a situation that I don’t want to be.  I have only about 10 months to go but each day is a struggle.  This song has become my anthem.  It’s from The Last Waltz, the Martin Scorsese movie about the last concert by The Band.  As a side note this is in my opinion THE best concert movie ever.