CITY DAILY PHOTO MAY THEME DAY - PURPLE

Well, I don't have any pictures handy of something purple - it's not my color -  and I'll be damned if I'm going to post a pretty purple flower. I came up with this idea when I saw a coaster in a local restaurant called Big Sky Cafe.

It occurs to me that I must relate to Jimi Hendrix about the way my parents related to, say, Tommy Dorsey. All things must pass.   

IT'S THE SAME THE WHOLE WORLD OVER

No explanation needed. Seen at a folkloric dance performance at the botanical garden's Chinese Festival.          

FLYING DRAGONS

There is a show of Chinese acrobats every year at the festival. Usually they are spectacular (see about the first third of the pictures at http://bit.ly/2ZLhTa7). This year I think they sent the AA or AAA league team. (American baseball reference. Let me know if you are unfamiliar with this.)  The show didn't raise anyone's blood pressure.

Still. there were some cool visuals. This young man was playing with a couple of those large Chinese yo yos. (I've seen way better displays.) But then he attached a long paper dragon to one end of the string. Not complex but tasty eye candy.        

KUNG PAO CHICKEN

If you have ever attended a cooking demonstration you have probably seen one of these angled mirrors over the food prep area. This way the audience can see everything that is going on. 

The annual Chinese Festival was at the Missouri Botanical Garden this weekend. It had rained much of the morning and the grounds were sloppy so Mrs. C and I decided to do something indoors. There was a cooking show in which a Chinese chef prepared a popular dish, kung pao chicken. I had no idea how complex the original, properly prepared fare was compared to the take away you might get at the local Happy Buddha Chinese Buffet. You could line up for a taste at the end but I didn't want to stand that long.          

Spring at the Public Garden

EVERYONE SHOULD BE GOOD AT SOMETHING

Never thought of that but if I want a hole dug I want it done right. I've dug myself into enough holes over the years and made a complete mess of it. Call a professional.

Seen at the City Museum.         

EVER SINCE I WAS A YOUNG BOY I PLAYED THE SILVER BALL

I played a lot of pinball when I was in law school. After all, the only reason I was there was to get credentials that might lead to a paycheck. The tables were so much more seductive than my class on the Uniform Commercial Code. My best friend and I were almost late to our last final exam because we had 23 free games racked up on our favorite machine.

The City Museum has a good collection of old ones. Just out of the frame to the left there is a table called World Series, maybe from the 60s. American fans will instantly recognize the setting as Wrigley Field. How inappropriate for the name.

Meanwhile, Ellie found a small table with 38 year old versions of Pac Man and Space Invaders. They were just demos, not full versions, but she was fascinated. Maybe there is something in the genes.

The reference in the title of this post is, of course, to this.       

I'D SMILE, TOO

More from the Circus Flora mini-performance at the City Museum. This young man hurled himself backward through what is the middle ring in this shot, hard enough. Then he added the top ring, making the stack taller than he was. He never touched the edge of the ring and deserved an ovation.

Sorry for no post yesterday.Too much work.          

Under The Little Top

 

The City Museum contains rehearsal space for Circus Harmony, an organization that trains young people in the skills of that performing tradition. Kids who might otherwise be on the street work vary hard and learn to do amazing things. Some of the members show there stuff at the museum on weekends.

I don't understand how anybody can do this stuff since, for starters,I am not well coordinated and have zero athletic talent. But he sure has it. Four balls in the air (and another in his right hand)? Amazing.           

MADELEINE MONDAY

 

The kid had a busy weekend. On Friday night the Ellie and mom went to the Cardinals baseball game. It was a chilly evening but she didn't care. Close game but the Cards lost to the New York Mets. Although it was late Ellie insisted on staying to the very end.

On Saturday her mom and I took her to the City Museum. That boy on the right has a "it's my turn" scowl. The visit ended with the ever-popular ball pit. They have a separate area for children six and under. Good thing. Some of the big kids get pretty rough.            

Aerial Adventure

We took Ellie to the the incomparable City Museum yesterday. There is nothing like it in the world and it's not possible to describe here. There are in and outdoor attractions. The outside slides and climbing tubes are among the most popular. I wouldn't dare go into these tubes because I'm too tall and stiff. The man on the right of the first picture may be having the same problem.           

IMAGINE YOURSELF

This leaves room for a lot of interpretation. There are so many kinds of animals and the definition can be loose. How about a mini-you in a wasp nest or, if you can imagine such a thing, your consciousness packed into the body of a dog? Maybe, if it means anything, your sudden adoption of a dog's consciousness? But then the brains are so different. This shirt gives you a pretty difficult assignment. 

Whoever applied the lettering could use some coaching.

              

¡AQUI ESTAMOS!

An assertive gesture by our Hispanic population and I'm glad to see it. Many of you know Spanish but just in case, aqui estamos means we are here (so get used to the idea). No nos vamos is literally we are not going. Here, I think it would be better translated as we are not leaving.

Part of the genius of this country is that our residents are from, well, everywhere. I grew up in the most ethnically and linguistically diverse county in the nation, Queens. (So okay, Trump's from there, too.) Sometimes the blending process was full of conflict but I, for one, welcome everybody.          

BARTENDER

One of my faults as a photographer (there are many) is that I am always looking for images, just a moment in the flow of time, and can miss the overall experience. The Counter Public tour stopped in many places, including this bar.  No recollection of the name at all or what was on exhibit but the bartender's profile grabbed my attention.    

NOT SUITABLE FOR THE CATTLE PEN

Another Mexican store on Cherokee Street featuring what we call Western wear. No idea who wears these in St. Louis - we don't have much range to ride. But then these boots are for show-off, not work.

It's a cultural thing I don't pretend to understand. I have a colleague in my specialty I'll call C, an initial. He's from Dallas and his family owns a high-end boot store. C is a lawyer, a bit short of stature and very trim from years of long distance running. I see him at conferences wearing impeccably tailored suits with hand-tooled and doubtless very expensive cowboy boots. I guess it's a Texas - New Mexico - Arizona thing. They look heavy enough to build up your leg muscles.

The store also has them for women, of course, so you and your sweetie can go out line dancing in the highest of style.

 

BLOW IN MY EAR AND I'LL FOLLOW YOU ANYWHERE

Um, the caption is just a loose association that popped into my head when I was massaging this picture in Photoshop. It was an often-repeated line on Rowan and Martin's Laugh In years ago, hinting at, let's say, a bit of a dirty meaning. The meaning, like beauty, was in the eye (or ear) of the beholder. 

Google told me that there was also a punk song by the same name released in 1967. You have to hear it to believe it. Don't let the waltz time in the first few bars fool you. 

Anyway, the reason I was down on Cherokee Street was the opening day of Counter Public, a three month on and off, here and there visual and performing arts festival. It kicked off with a walking tour with our docent (whose name I didn't get) and the owner/art director of El Chico Bakery (whose name I didn't get). We saw a lot of stuff. More to follow.       

GREEN ACRES

Eddie Albert wanted to get out of his law practice in Manhattan so he bought a farm way out in the country. "Honey, I love you but give me Park Avenue," said his wife, Eva Gabor. You can get some of each in St. Louis but you have to do it on Cherokee Street. We have a Park Avenue but it's a couple of miles away. 

No one eats what is grown here unless they have a taste for dyed cotton or plucked chickens. There are several good taquerias down the street.               

LA RAÍZ DE TODO MAL

Wall painting on a Mexican general store on Cherokee Street. There is a cash machine in the wall just to the right. STL doesn't have the Hispanic population most US cities do but what there we got is centered in this area. You will find Latino restaurants, clothing stores, groceries (there is even an all-Latino candy store, or dulceria), bakeries and places to wire money to Mexico and Central America.

Now, my question is how many passers-by think this painting is really cool and how many are horrified by it. I'm in the second camp, looking at the scream of short-lived, materialistic joy, that mouth and that dress. Now at least she can afford more fabric. There is a Buddhist temple just down the street. Too bad they weren't consulted. 

Oh, and by the way, today is Mrs. C's and my 45th anniversary. We still like each other and I consider myself very, very fortunate. I think we should do something about the occasion.      

Quite Rightly

Okay, who  is old enough to remember that song? It had quite an influence and not just as a proto-hippy earwig but also on the behavior of wannabe cool high school kids.

Back in the unreconstructed 60s, my all-boys high school had a senior lounge where smoking was permitted. We were pretty much left alone. A combination of the song and street rumors led us to scrape off the fiber on the inside of banana peels. We dried it (or not), then attempted to smoke it in our lounge in regular tobacco pipes. (The pipes were an affectation some of the senior boys were trying out.)  Anyway, the stuff just made us sick. Yellow isn't always cheerful.