garrison beau scott

There are things in this life that are inherently good. The last bite of s’more, refrigerator art galleries, cold pillows and heavy blankets, Krazy Fiesta’s remix of Chromeo’s “Me and My Man.”

That shit is dope.

Anyway, so it was that I went off into the 30 degree night, iPod pumping, camera and tri-pod in tow to look for some more inherently cool goodness. And this is what I found.

• Walking alone without a care as to how goofy you look grooving to Krazy Fiesta is inherently good.

• Hand-made wool skullcaps that are big enough to fit over the headphones pumping Krazy Fiesta are inherently good.

• The sight of your breath shrouding the darkened windows of the houses you goofily funk your way past while geeking out to Krazy Fiesta is inherently good.

• Standing alone, in the middle of a frozen field, looking at a massive tree, under a sky of stars, with a camera, tri-pod and Krazy Fiesta pumping in the headphones worn snug under a hand-made wool skullcap as your breath joins the atmosphere, knowing that your pillow at home is cool and the blankets are heavy is inherently good.

Has there ever been, in the history of written language, a letter with such an unfair burden to carry? And for a language that can trace its roots back to the fifth century AD, it seems a might unfair that in eight short years, a singular letter could have its reputation sullied by such an obscene force.

I say it’s time to begin repairing the damage, to return the 23rd letter of our alphabet to a place of honor instead of the ass of a joke that’s run on way too long. And please,if your country allows it, by all means vote. It used to mean something here…

A shot across the bow of the S.S. Photography is Not An Art? No, not really. Though I will rally behind the argument in favor of my chosen medium’s inclusion into the realm of the high arts.

When the day is over, no matter the medium, it’s still about light and subject and composition. I don’t think you can escape that. Substitute tone/melody for light and music can be included in that set of rules.

Anything worth building needs a foundation.

And there’s no way I want to go out into that cold day…though each time I catch a glimpse of my camera I can almost hear it begging to be taken for a spin. It’s just snowed here in Boston and the stuff is still white, but a shot of snow from last winter will have to do, as I am bound and determined to stay inside for at least a few more days. Not nearly the coverage we have now, as this was taken just as it began to fall, but you get the idea. You’ll have to, I ain’t going out there.

It’s too cold.

Today we took the offspring out for a walk along the Charles River. There’s a great path that winds its way behind Newton and Watertown, perfect for a lazy afternoon stroll. My daughter, Emmy, saw the Polaroid camera in the car, and asked if she could take some pictures.

She might as well have asked me if it was okay to breathe.

In the past, when we’ve gone out like that, I would always gently remind her that she had a camera along for the trip and ask if there was anything she wanted to take pictures of. But then I remembered my unspoken promise to my children to never push them in any direction. So today I said nothing, and was pleasantly surprised when of her own accord, she began asking if she could use it.

Not just hold it, or have it, but actually use it. So when she spotted something, she asked for it, and then magic. Here’s her favorite, which just so happens to be mine as well.

That smudge in the lower left of the white border is peanut butter. Kids… God love ‘em.