Checking Out The New Clothes Dryer

It was the tail end of May, 1971 and Elena would be born June seventh. Here Stephanie is admiring the new clothes line in the back yard. Drying clothes in the breeze and sunshine was considered a good thing back then, no pesky homeowners associations and zoning regulations to keep you from hanging clothes on the line. Disposeable diapers had yet to take over the market. In fact there were diaper services that would pick up your dirty diapers once a week and leave you nice fluffy clean ones!

There were a lot of things different in 1971 compared to today. Now women attempt to quit smoking before getting pregnant, and wouldn't dream of subjecting their children to cigarette smoke. Not then! A week or so until delivery and Stephanie is sitting out in the yard holding a cigarette in her hand.

A few years later, with Jonathan on the way, we got an electric clothes dryer. I'm probably the only one left on any side of the family that still smokes.

This is another one of those shots on 120 roll film with the Minolta Autocord.

Can't Smoke Inside, Can't Drink Outside? Selective Enforcement!

The last Friday of the month the City of North Miami hosts an evening jazz concert outside of the art museum and tthere's a Gallery Walk where all the art galleries stay open late. You can either wander around on your own or take the guided walk. It's also the night when galleries open new exhibits.

I was in froint of Mario Flores' Gallery wher I had some photographs hanging on the wall. It's against the law to smoke inside these days. Several of us kept wandering outside to light up. That's when you discover how many people there really are who "gave up smoking, honest, but could I bum one off of you?"

We carried our wine glasses out with us. Of course it's against the law to drink alcaholic beverages outside on the sidewalk. We were directly across the street from City Hall, half a block from the Police Station. Talk about flaunting the law! If this had been a blue collar bar we all would have spent the night in jail. Somehow or another the rules are different when you're dealing with art collectors, business owners, lawyers, doctors, acountants, and the like. They just kept wandering in and out of galleries, wine glass in hand. But they made damned sure that they didn't smoke inside. At least you can smoke in a real bar!

It Wouldn't Be Complete Without A Pretty Girl (or a cigarette)

You can just look at pictures for so long without a break. For some reason it's against the law to smoke inside, but being a largely smoking crowd there was constant traffic in and out as people headed out to light up.

I'm always amazed at the large number of "non-smokers" who would better be described as "I can contol the urge as long as I'm not near anybody who is smoking" smokers. You're chatting with somebody, the two of you head outside so one of you can light up, and suddenly it's "I don't usually smoke but could you spare me one of yours?" I excused myself and headed outside to take my chances with the other addicts.

Chimpanzees Don't Smoke

When I'm sitting around by myself, smoking a cigarette with my coffee, my mind wanders off in odd directions at times. I'd recently read another one of those articles about how closely we're related to chimpanzees, and with new techniques of analyzing DNA, even individual genes and where they are on the chromosomes, makes it increasingly possible to pinpont the genetic reasons for the differences between the two species.

So what made our ancestors forsake their arboreal past? What was it that favored standing upright and running on the ground over using all four limbs to negotiate tree branches? We now know that chimps aren't the fruit eating vegetarians we once thought. They hunt, they throw stones, use branches as clubs, even shaping them to be more effective, and use twigs to entice tasty termites out of holes. They'll opportunisticaly eat dead animals they find. Yes, chimpanzees make and use tools, just like we do. And while they don't speak the way we do, they do communicate verbally and with hand signs.

At the same time we're constantly bombarded by the anti-smoking rhetoric of "Oh, it causes genetic damage!" Why not "Oh, it can cause genetic changes"? Damaging a few genes isn't always a bad thing. If it wasn't for genetic change we'd all still be one celled creatures living in damp places.

At some point back in time our ancestors learned to use fire. We could cook meat and other foods to make it easier to digest, and get that valuable protein into our systems. We could survive in colder climates. Eventually we learned to build shelters more complicated than the platforms of branches that the chimanzees make to elevate themselves above most predators. We moved into caves and tents and huts covered with hides or thatching. A fire in the center of the floor kept it warm, and smoke drifting up through the thatch or the spaces between the overlapped hides tended to preseve them. It also chased away flies and mosquitos.

At some point it was discovered that meat hung from the roof would also get preserved by being smoked, and that the dried hides could be worked back and forth over a branch, breaking down the fibers and softening the hide. Chimnies hadn't been invented yet so our ancestors got to breath plenty of smoke. All that genetic "damage!" No wonder over the past half a million years we've become so different from our chimpanzee cousins. They don't smoke!

I took my cup inside, got a refill, and came back outside to enjoy the night air. I lit another cigarette.

Finding The Light In The Darkness

It's quiet, it's late. I come over here most evenings to drink some coffee, chat with friends at times, perhaps read a bit, or just collect my thoughts, as the saying goes.

That young woman? I have no idea who she is. I probably wasn't even aware that she was there at the time. When I'm shooting these self-portraits sometimes I look back there and see whats behind me. Most times I don't. It just happens, or it's intuiton, or the camera itself has a great sense of lighting and compostion.

She has her coffee and her cigarette, as do I. She's reading a book, or maybe studying. I'm taking pictures. I never seem to succeed at collecting my thoughts. We both needed the light.