While visiting my daughter during her term abroad in Ireland, we got to meet some of her new friends. These people, from Germany and Finland (and a couple from Australia), are helping her out so much, we decided to pay them back with silly American gifts.
Every 18 months I have the ultimate pleasure of volunteering at a blood and marrow transplant conference. I’ve written about these conferences in the past, saying “These are my people.” This year, in particular, I felt that way even more acutely.
First, there were all those people checking out my book, which was just a thrill.
There was golfing on our “mancation,” our vacation designed specifically to do guy things. There was also batting practice in random fields we found along the way. Sure, there was a little gambling and an impossibly large basket of bacon that we left half-finished on the table. But the whole stated reason for our trip was to visit Minor League baseball fields around the state and in Ohio.
Mary Magdalene tweeted the disciple’s secret location, tipping off the Romans. It’s okay, Jesus made her do it.
Pontius Pilate was a John Wayne impersonator.
The shepherds in their field at night were gang members.
But the most shocking thing maybe — apart from all the male and female body parts — was the Angel Gabriel being a lesbian who explained to Mary about virgin birth, “Honey, sometimes you just don’t need a man.”
There’s nothing better than strolling around town, any town, and taking pictures. It’s called Street Photography and those of us whose hearts pump developer, stop bath and fixer love wandering with a camera. Pros like Scott Strazzante take it well past documentary photography and well into high art with blogs like Shooting from the Hip.
You’ve heard of Humans of New York? Well today I offer up a few humans of London.