Sunlight and shadows

It takes sunlight to make shadows, but here in the Northeast we haven’t had sunlight much in the past couple of months. So instead, we have photographed using “God’s softbox.” Photographers use “softboxes” in the studio to spread light over a subject to eliminate or soften shadows. Clouds and overcast skies are often called “God’s softbox.” After all, clouds diffuse or soften light from the sun to eliminate or soften shadows. In the studio, it’s an accessory that we can control, but in the sky, we have no control.

Direct sunlight helps us see things more clearly, and when we use it as backlight, it helps us see through things to reveal details that we didn’t know existed. But it also causes objects to be defined by the shape of their shadow and doesn’t allow us to see what’s inside.

People are the same way. Some like to be lit directly for all to see. Others are like some of these backlit leaves, transparent for all to see what’s inside. Still other people like to hide in the shadows, some out of fear or insecurity, or perhaps like the leaves, they are all doing the same thing but don’t want the attention that results from being in the light.

New York's finest

New York City really does have a great police force. Its members are always visible and usually alert. However, like many of us, some have a cell phone stuck on their ear and are not always in touch with the moment. But hey, it’s only Times Square, and judging from the arms and shoulders of our wheelchair-bound friend, he could probably blast his way across the street and through the crowd like a fullback on wheels before our finest friends would even notice. And like so many bound to a wheelchair, he probably wants to be as mobile and unnoticed as everyone else.

To me, he’s one of thousands upon thousands of people who pass through Times Square everyday. God only knows who they are, where they are from, how they got there, or where they are going.

Like life, they’re just passing through.

Park Avenue Pizza?

Well, back to Manhattan and what I thought was going to be the very best mouthwatering street-cart pizza in New York by 345 Park Ave. (blog comment June 9) turned out to be an aberration of mind. In fact, as you can see by the menu, the street chef offered everything from burgers to salads and chicken souvlaki, but no pizza and no hot dogs. His multi-national cuisine included Greek, Italian, American and even Philadelphia selections, but no pizza.

To add insult to injury, the cart at St. Bart’s across the street offered everything that the non-pizza cart did not, except pizza.

Maybe it was there one day in the past, “But not in the past 27 years,” said my new best street-chef friend as he was cleaning his grill and waiting for the truck to pick up his kitchen and drive off for the night.

Was there ever a pizza cart there? I’m sure there was because daughters never mislead their dads, but it does make me wonder. Perhaps it was listed under the Philly cheese steak at one time, but not anymore.

So, I went up the street to Starbucks to suck on an ice mocha and eat the rest of my trail mix. I mean, once you begin to salivate for the Park Avenue cart pizza, a juicy chicken souvlaki just doesn’t cut it. But then again, if I ate from the cart everyday, I’d look like the guy on the menu. My new best street-chef friend said so.

Urban ripples

It only takes a gentle breeze across the surface of a glass pond to make a reflection lose its identity. We can identify the shape but not the details, the things that make it real. A small pebble or a gentle puff of wind distorts the image even more.

Our lives are just as delicate and just as vulnerable as the pond. It is so easy to lose focus when something comes along and disturbs our “surface.” Think about the pebbles that people throw into your life or winds that impact your dreams.

Where do they come from? Who is in control? Can you focus through the ripples?

Sometimes when our glassy surface is disturbed, the image we see is more interesting than we anticipated. Beauty can often be expressed in troubled waters. You just have to look for it.

Handicapped

Ah, the universal sign for “handicapped,” or physically impaired. It’s also the guarantee of a good parking place, unless of course those treasured close spaces have become shopping cart drop sites or it’s the day before Christmas at the mall.

Yes, handicap covers a multitude of issues from being limited physically to golf, horseracing, and even our time. Anyone who can’t shoot a perfect game of golf gets to apply a handicap and of course a horse is handicapped by factors that impede it from achieving its “true” speed. A “handicap” is an attempt to make every playing field level.

But what about time? There really are only 24 hours in a day. For many of us, it restricts our movement, our activities and often prevents us from doing all that we want to do. Yes, money can buy help, efficiency, and speed, but it can’t buy time. Time is a precious resource that gets refreshed each day and constantly challenges us to use every bit of it as efficiently as possible. But in the end it handicaps us and forces us to set priorities and goals to accomplish our best in the space of time that we have been given.

Guarded worship

No shoes, no pictures, ladies must wear skirts over their shorts, and don’t get too close to the Emerald Buddha under the gold roof or else you could have to deal with this guy. Actually, these ugly, intimidating stone guards in some form or other stand at the entrances to many wots and are supposed to keep the evil spirits from getting any closer.

Today is Sunday, and I can’t help but wonder what keeps people away from their places of worship. Is it an ugly intimidating and perhaps invisible guard? Is it rules regarding personal appearance, or is it just plain apathy? Will it take another 9/11 terrorism event or some other disaster to draw people closer to God?

Nightlights

Whether it’s a candle in a cave, a New England lighthouse, or a full moon, one property of light remains true, light always penetrates darkness. No matter how bright or how far away light breaks the spell of total darkness.
The lighthouse is powered by the limited energy of man and can be switched off at a moment’s notice, while the moonlight is powered by the unlimited power of God, and can never be turned off. Who powers your light?

I love New York

How could you not love New York? There are clothing deals on every corner and the hot dog cuisine is like no other place on the planet.

Yesterday you saw the finest Italian designer neckties for $6 and today it’s tee shirts for $2, but oops, wait . . . there’s a small 99 on that sign, so I guess the shirts are really closer to $3. Still a deal.

Now, how about the rolling covered restaurant. No dishes to wash, no tables to clean, no floors to scrub and no menus to update. Just keep the dogs hot, the buns warm and the drinks cold. At the end of the day, roll it all up, and go home.

Fifth Avenue necktie shop

In retailing, location is everything, and yes, this really is Fifth Avenue in New York, one of the most fashion conscious streets in the world. In fact, it is right in front New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art and across the street from multi-million dollar, upper east side apartments.
Inside both the museum and the apartments are priceless works of art from all over the world, yet outside is the finest display of priceless Italian designer neckties in New York. Well maybe not the “finest display,” and maybe not “priceless,” but at six dollars each, or four for twenty dollars, they are close to “priceless,” just like the real estate across the street is headed in today’s economy.

Never "two" young to read.

So did you ever wonder why they make birthday cards for a two year old? So they can read them, of course.
Now I’m very willing to admit that our grandkids are really bright, but even we think this is stretching the bragging rights just a little. However, she did tell us what the card said.

Sweet bliss

Chocolate cake and popcorn, it just doesn’t get any better than this on your birthday.

There’s something about the innocence of a young child. Unlike us, she doesn’t care if she wears or eats the cake as long as she enjoys it. Yes, mom could wipe off her mouth and keep her prim and proper for the party, but why bother if you can reach the frosting with your tongue. Napkins, so overrated when you’re two years old. After all, it’s summer and there’s always a hose and a big brother nearby ready to help.

A matter of perspective

Now my dentist is a cool kind of guy as long as I see him in street clothes with a cell phone. But this is how I’ll see him at 8:00 tomorrow morning. He knows me well enough to not be offended when my knees shake, my hands sweat and worst of all my teeth chatter because I’m scared out of my skin to be strapped down with my mouth wedged open as he looms over me with big ugly tools and those weird glasses.
“It’s your occupation that painfully scares me,” I keep telling him, when I can. He just tells me over and over again, “It will be over in just a minute.” But it’s always another minute.
From his perspective, perhaps it is only a minute, but from mine, it’s at least an eternity before I’m out of there for another six months.