From an old LIFE Magazine, this picture of the Colts' Steve Myrha kicking off in a game at the old, beloved Baltimore Memorial Stadium. What I paid for a ticket to a game there ($6) wouldn't get you a hotdog at the new football palace downtown.
Not too far from us is this deli, called Ravage Deli, because you are supposed to get your sandwich there and just crazy go nuts eating it. Their cheesesteak was voted Baltimore's Best, and I need to investigate it fully. I'll report here later.
That marvelous moment when fall meets winter in Vermont.
I don't know where this happened, but someone crashed their Toyota Camry into a tree and left it there for a while, so local art lovers showed up with gold spray paint and turned a wreck into a show piece.
I've known a lot of people who worked as X-ray technicians, and all of them could see right through all of us.
The people at Hibbing High School in Minnesota are justly proud of their 1959 graduate Robt. Zimmerman, who, apparently, went off like a rolling stone and wrote some stuff and earned the Nobel Prize. How does it feel?
These are people of the Baggio ethnic group. They live in Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines. Although some of them have moved to the land, a significant portion of their population still lives on the water full time, coming ashore only to sell the fish and lobsters they catch (that's their primary source of income), get potable water, and bury relatives. They have no internet or television, but they do have all the seafood they want to eat and they don't know nothin' from nothin' about elections, turmoil, and worldwide crises. I hear you nodding.
Softly, as we leave each other...