240312

Late 1990's or maybe the kusp before 9/11.

When all the key commands to Photoshop 4.0 and concurrent Illustrator changed he felt betrayed.

Enlightenment had become less of an upgrade path, something else altogether.

Lab rats where trained on what to click on. It became a gauge of intelligence.

The people who new what to click on.

***

200312 SFO: Man wearing a Turban or Pagri, elderly Chinese speaking loudly, and the Filipinos waiting in the line to check in with JAL agents for JAL057 to Narita, a wonderful soup is an International Terminal. A breath of fresh air in the midst of so much genocide, tragedy, kaos, and division. From a photographers lens, all are equal. No-one escapes the equanimity of the lens.

It was Winogrand who's images from airports during photography's heydays, that might make an interesting baseline comparison. Apparently his own fear of flying motivated him. His images are dated as photographs as time intends, less International by today's if-there-are-any standards. Perhaps his focus was more the domestic flights in the USA. Just random thoughts before boarding.

The leg from Narita to Manila was delayed due to weather conditions, we sat mostly on the plane before take off, and were warned to use the bathroom before boarding. Turbulence and bad weather, don't  know if here or there. It wasn't bad at all though, our approach to Manila was smooth, but I'm sure they planned it that way. Quite smart.

There was a moment 20 minutes before landing in Naia, JA745 dropped from cruising altitude where the pressure changed abruptly seemingly more than usual. Remarkably the Boeing 777 floated weightlessly, silently, with no feeling of motion at all. Obviously we had entered the interdemensional gateway or drifted into the alien abduction beam of the mothership. No one else seemed to notice. Ears plugged more than usual from the pressure as though underwater, but Alien tractor beams and interdimensional time warps, Einstein-Rosen bridges (natural or artificially created) will do that to you. Happens all the time, goes without saying.

Ben razon

240216_P1010296

Ben Razon 

A veteran journalist of the Marcos Era and Edsa Revolution and proprietor of the well known Oarhouse bar which was quite the gathering place for journalist during that time. 

An unassuming and gentle man, as in this photograph, always staring deep and silently within his compassion, and perplexed. 

He spoke about  how Filipinos just want others to be happy, feel welcome and help, as he points out how the bar survived during Covid.

However once triggered, his wealth is exposed, the depth of those turbulent days and actions of Martial Law, Vietnam, and the Edsa Revolution. The scars, wrinkles, and broken hearts that so many here indured are reborn with a tragically comic and foreboding malaise...

...as at the time of this writing we approach 30,000 dead Palistinians. Ben cynically laughs regarding everything being said now is the same as from years before.

Oarhouse, Malate

240301

San Francisco 240301 Time Warp Grasslands Bar on Kearny & Jackson. The two songs that brought me back, Johnny Cash "I Walk the Line" and "Tiny Bubbles" sounded like the version by Dean Martin. Two guys sitting at opposite ends of the bar are a self portrait, sipping beer watching the Warriors. More "Johnny Cash" playin', guy at the far end laughing it up with the Chinese American bartender. I'll head to the ATM and check out the Pork Chop House for old time sake and catch Caroline's rehearsal. I'm always remembering Oscar saying "you don't know anybody here." Especially here.