sidewalkghosts

Hit the local shopping mall tonight. Never again! Takes me 30 minutes to walk there. And the place is filled with conservative shoppers. Not to say I’m bagging on conservatism, or that they would not be interesting to photograph. It’s just nothing is grabbing me at the gut.

But, I’m here. It’s a new experience in discomfort, and 9pm is rapidly approaching. I admit, late evening shoots are starting to wear on me a bit. There is a general rule beginning to emerge for me, “most often, work to get a shot in-the-can no later than nine.” Leaves enough time to write an entry before the bewitching hour of twelve o’clock.

Plus, with an hour and a half of mall time already committed, I am determined to meet a new 365 friend. Here! Now!

Yet even with my stubborn commitment to shopping center pain, I’ve reach my breaking point. I need to get out of here! One more lap around level two and I’m going to jump over the railing! Anything to break the monotony and plea for excitement. I’m telling you, never again to a mall for 365.

This place is a maze. Ah! Exit in site; route fixed for the freedom of the empty streets. I don’t care if I have to shoot at 11pm tonight, just let me out of this place!

Almost to the door and I come across a different type of mall goer. A group of edgy late banger looking dudes, chilling, standing in a circle. At first I question approaching them. But as I walk past I can’t ignore overhearing their conversation as they show their tats. Their words are aggressive and loud. Quite the contrast to the overall shopping center vibe of canned music. My intuition is nagging at me, telling me to find out more. And after 90 minutes of conservative shoppers, this group does stand out.

I stop and talk with them. We spend about ten minutes getting comfortable with each other. Not all of them are interested in being photographed, but all are willing to hang for the ride. We walk the mall and find an open spot to take photographs. Three of them volunteer and step up to be photographed.

Readers, shake hands with Jose, Franke and Jonathan. Needing no direction, and enjoying the curious looks of the girls passing by (who are these guys being photographed?), they independently pose for the camera.

Only 4 frames in, mall cop comes out of nowhere and shuts us down. Torques us all. We’re not a commercial shoot, just a couple of people taking a few harmless snap shots. Still, he is adamant; time to wrap. We sort of comply. It’s not worth turning into a big deal. I already feel I have a frame.

Notice I say, “sort of comply.” My gang friends can’t hold back, giving him a few choice words of wisdom as he departs. I don’t buy into the exchange, but they tell me they’ve got my back. I appreciate that.

Accepting that our interview has been cut short, we share departing hand shakes. I’m accused of having a weak one and get schooled in the proper three-part handshake, correct grips, pressure and all. I’m instructed: not too tight or loose, gentle, like you care.

No worries in regards to mall cop’s total annihilation of our shoot and breaking us up; nothing can stop us from becoming new in-the-moment friends.

My walk away? “Don’t let first impression overly affect you.” Even though these kids carry a tough facade, I find them warm, welcoming and genuine personalities.

I’m sure they have their impressions of me too.

365 Day Conclusion: “We’re all in this life together!”

“How did you get out,” I ask.
__________________________________________________

“Simply,” he says, “with a gun and not a passport.”
__________________________________________________

20 days in, I’m on a high. There is a reason greater than myself propelling me through this self-challenge. It’s taking hold of me.

I leave my house at 6:30pm, carrying the usual 30 pounds of gear: lenses, flash, iPad and all the accessories needed to be completely mobile. The bag is heavy and gets heavier with extended walks, but after tonight’s experience, it will forever be lighter than air.

My path begins on Sherman Way once again. At first I feel it is a cop out; questioning, “will this get boring with too much time in my area?” Not 5 minutes away, encouragement presents itself.  I pass a very interesting Pilipino chap. Beautiful tats on arms and body. We hit it off.

Quickly I find out he is a tattoo artist… explains the amazing artwork on his body. All looks good to go, he is the man for tonight.

Thinking I’ve found a golden interview, disappointment strikes hard when my new friend is literally swept off by his impatient ride. Total down turn, I am right in the middle of prepping the camera and off he goes.

Best thing to do is just take the hit and move on. No harm done. There is a philosophy that moves me forward tonight, “if it is meant to be, it will be.”

You’ll see how real this perspective becomes in tonight’s entry.

I pack my gear, lift the 30 pounds onto my back and it’s happy trails again. 30 minutes pass and the cyber cafe strikes my attention. I even pass it, but a bit of self-nagging reverses my stride, challenging me to re-examine the joint.

I stroll through the cafe. The second I enter a feeling of isolation sets in. All around were people intensely focused on displays of vibrant color, action and sound (I have to assume sound, for everyone is wearing headsets). The whole vibe turns me off, and no one can peel they’re eyes off the screens. I move on.

With a rapid exit I continue my journey. 45 minutes down, Canoga High School to the right of me, I remember a good friend of mine is coaching his son’s football team there.

Feels like a good place to prospect. Photograph a parent or something? 10 more minute and I’m standing on the field next to my good friend coach Troy.

I rest my shoulder of my camera load and scan the field for faces of interest. No, not the dude with the goofy hat. Pass on the high-shorted cheer coach. No way to the businessman buried in the cell phone. Wow! I thought this place would be full of people.

My decision; “settle in, don’t wander and let whoever you will be meeting come into focus.” 20 minutes… gone, nothing; 30 minutes… still dry waters, and hope not gone, I keep lookout.

40 yards down field I see John, 79 years of Croatian wisdom.

He comes right out of the gates telling me he is a Pancreatic Cancer survivor. My knees buckle. This is now very personal, the reason I’m supposed to be hear with John, you see, is my father died in just 6 weeks after being diagnosed with the disease. And every since then, I view the sickness as hopeless.

That’s a whole topic in itself. One that I am still dealing with in my lack of respect for many of the health care options available to our senior citizens: Another blog, another story.

John heals part of me, the faith that others can survive Pancreatic Cancer. And, due to family history, I’m in the high percentile at risk.

John, Croatian name, Ivica Vukovic, credits a miraculous healing to a special tea, not to modern medicine (taheeboteaclub.com). After a very aggressive 6½-hour procedure to remove the affected tissue around his Pancreas, the doctors gave him 2 months max. He lifts his shirt to show me his 12inch scar to prove it.

All options off the table, except one, this special tea, known for its healing properties is recommended by his son. Ignoring the doctor’s predictions, John promptly began drinking it. 13 years later, he is still here to watch his grandson practice football.

This heavy accented glowing human being has pulled at my heartstrings. His positive energy is duly noted by the line of passer by’s who harass him and share friendly gestures while we are taking photos. “Hey John, have him photograph me, I’m much more handsome,” “So now your famous?”  “Looking good John!” Seems everyone on the field knows him.

We talk of his escape from Croatia during the Yugoslavian occupation. “What a blemish in human history.” He does not even break a sweat, and I know he has seen things too dark for many to discuss. John just keeps smiling and gives me advise on making my wife happy.

I can’t let go of wanting to know more about his exit of Croatia. “How did you get out,” I ask. “Simply,” he says, “with a gun and not a passport.” I pause to reflect on that one.

He describes his path: Trains to a few stops within the boarders of Austria and Germany, then footpaths over the boarders (what he doesn’t share is how heavily they are patrolled). Credit to our German friends; they accepted John, his wife and 6-year-old son into the country.

Once in Germany, he is screened for one year and finally gets his papers to exit the country. It takes that much time to confirm that he has no criminal background or other unsavory past. I’m sure he’s lost his gun by this time.

With papers in hand, he moves his family to Toronto Canada, 13 years later to California. Here’s his claim, “best place on earth to live, anywhere between Santa Barbara and San Diego, I’m a California Boy!”

He returns to his suggestions for good husbandry. Catches me by surprise when he shares little bedroom council. Hey, he has been successfully married for 58 years, survived a terrible war, and is still in love with his sweetheart. Got to listen to everything he has to say. John, much appreciated.

In closing, I ask him our two standing questions.

One:
Where do you see yourself in 10 years (he look great, he’ll be here)?

Response:
The tone shifts to humble concern for his grandson, “I fear we are in store for another World War.” Very dark, I know. But it would be unfair of me not to share his concern.

Two:
What words would you like to share with those who read this blog?

Response:
He has quite a few, I’ll list them.
• He Quotes Mark [12:31] – “Love thy neighbor as thyself.”
• “Everybody can run, only one can be first, but the last across the finish really is the one who wins the greatest prize.”
• “Canadians are a lot like Americans”
• “Pray often for yourself, your family and your country.”
• “I love Sports.” He shares a couple things on this topic (Sub-listed below).
• “Go to events to have fun, not to go crazy for your team to win.”
• “Enjoy the people and the excitement of the big stadiums and places.”
• “My Favorite Teams: Football – Manchester, Hockey – Philadelphia Fliers, American Football – New England Patriots.”

Detective Update:
Tonight I had dinner at Lemon Grass. Looks like Otto may be the delivery driver. I’ll keep you posted. Hey it’s LA, everyone is an actor?! (365 Day 11 / I’ll Take the Lab – Otto Style).

FORGIVE ME. I BROKE MY UNDER 1000 WORD RULE TONIGHT – I HOPE YOU SEE WHY.

Jiu-Jutsu Black Belt / Head Instructor and Business Partner Juan Pablo Garcia (under professor Alberto Crane)

Started my 365 quest at around 7pm tonight. As usual, with camera bag on shoulder. If there has been any night so far that I thought would leave me empty-handed, it’s this one. I lost count of how many people I approached, all of whom I found on the streets, all very friendly and inquisitive, but none willing to step in front of the camera.

No clue of where to go, time burning and migraine setting in, I wander the Valley, eyes beginning to sag, motivation in question.

Two hours in when I pass martial arts studio Gracie Barra. The lights are on, half a dozen or so serious looking martial artists working out. As I rip past at 45 miles per hour (really 55, but who’s speeding), the vision of what just blurred through my passenger window forces me to rubber neck. Knowing that this is my spot: Quick speed brake, an illegal U-turn and I’m parked right in front of the place.

I grab my stuff, walk in and learn my first lesson. “No shoes on the mat.” Great! haven’t even opened my mouth and I’m surely about to be bumped out to continue my hunt. How wrong I am!

Turns out my presence is welcome. I first meet Sammy, you’ll meet him shortly. Second lesson, “this place is all about respect.” Sammy introduces me to head instructor Juan Pablo Garcia who is intrigued to be part of 365.

Third Lesson, “humility and perseverance are key.” We’ll get to other lessons soon, but these are foundational to what I learn.

I wish I had the time to write a novel entry about Juan. The man has paid some serious dues. But in respect of my under 1000 word commitment, I’ll do my best to be succinct. Hard for me to do at times. Especially with interviews like Juan’s.

Juan is to the point. Ecuador born, world traveled, has competed in MMA events everywhere. I really mean everywhere; globally, two in the good old United States. We talk of his path, but first and foremost he says, “I am living the dream.” Then he tells me of how he got it, now a nationally respected instructor and champion competitor.

Too much to write, I’ll let you know the short answer, “This guy is self-made.” No sponsors, family money or hand outs. He’s worked hard and you can see the self-respect in his eyes. He shares stories of living in martial arts studios, sleeping on mats by night and cleaning by day, all in trade for room, board and training. Money is not his focus, perfecting his sport is. More lessons; perseverance and passion

I just sit in his office and listen to his history, doing my best to take notes. There is just too much to write. One thing is evident, he is careful to not take all the credit for his success, making it known that I must acknowledge his professor, Alberto Crane. I add this to my list of lessons; respect, honor, diligence.

I haven’t even stepped onto the mat and I’m getting grounded.

Juan invites me behind his desk to look at a YouTube video he opens. It’s him winning countless tournaments. His specialty? Grappling. It was hard to see his face in many of the clips. Annoying how the referee constantly covered it with the raising of the victory arm.

Had to dig these facts out of him: Florida State Champion, Vegas Open Champion, NAGA Champion for 3 years. I’m pretty sure there are more, but he is pretty closed lip about it. Another lesson; humility.

All in all he is a fairly focused and serious guy.

A couple of things did bring a smile to his face.
• Where he now is in life
• Thoughts of his son
• His love for teaching
• An invitation to bring myself and my family to train with him

What about Sammy?

I promise Juan a DVD of the photos we shoot. Sammy steps up in volunteering to come to my house to pick up the disk.

I thought I learned enough for the evening. School’s not over yet.

Sammy Stat’s teach me of focus, mature patience and listening to the heart.
• 26 years old
• Carnegie Mellon Graduate
• Multiple Degrees, Behavioral Economics, Policy Management, Engineering Studies
• Did I say he is 26 years old
• Credits martial arts to his happiness and balance
• Blue Belt, almost a Purple Belt (I’m sure he’ll be Black soon)
• Plans to go to Wall Street later (He’s seen to many of his peer’s burn out too early)
• Can survive Juan pinning him in a cradle (It’s a serious pin, I watched him gasp for air as Juan tightened his hold)

Juan / Sammy, Thanks for the schooling. I may take you up on those mat lessons. Although, I’ll pass on the cradle, thank you.

Nicke, Hawaii Regular and 8 year Henri’s Veteran

I’m needing to make tonight’s entry rather short and sweet.

Quite a day today. I won’t go into details, but one note to share. I’ve been telling everyone about 365. A few ask me, “why are you doing this?”

There are two general answers: First, “loving meeting people and am learning a tremendous amount about others and myself,” and secondly, “because I’m just a little bit crazy.”

Either way. The more people I tell about 365, the more committed I am to seeing it to the end. And I’ve already handed out a hundred cards or so.

That said, Let’s move on and meet today’s new friend.

There is a place, not too far from my house, that brings nostalgic dining back to life: Henri’s diner, home to Nicke the friendliest waitress in the area.

My meeting with her is quite by chance. This is one of those off camber evenings for me. You know the kind; call home, friend or whoever, to coordinate the day’s end. For me, it’s my wife. 7sh and I’m in the final miles of my commute home. I call the house with that general questions all husbands, spouses or significant others place high of the list of priorities, “what’s for dinner?”

Brave call on this particular evening. Proves to be the wrong conversation opener. Probably would have been much better to ask, “how was your day?” What can I say, other than, “I’m from Mars.”

Now please do not jump to the wrong conclusion. I have a lovely companion: Very talented, loving, patient and  kind. A delight in most instances, but the mix of today’s stresses and distractions, blended with my unthoughtful question, “What for dinner?” left me feeling like Jim Carey in Liar Liar. You may know the elevator scene that I’m talking about.

Bottom line, I’m on my own for this evenings meal, my fallback, to meet my daughter at one of our local eateries where she was having dinner with a friend.

“Hey Radstone! You told me this was going to be a short entry. Quit the run-on already! OK, OK, I’ll summarize. Keep you’re shoes on.

Back to Henri’s.

I walk in, and it’s like walking into room full of friendly conversation. Here is the bullet play-by-play of the scene.

• Daughter sitting with friend and her father (by the way, he manages Henri’s).
• A little slow, yet all the tables are chatting with each other.
• Nicke knows everyone.
• Order my Tri-Tip
• Sit back and observe Nicke at work. It’s a magical thing watching her interact with the room. All smiles and first names. Where in life do you go to eat these days where the waitress knows you by name, and asks about your family. I love this girl.
• Cannot pass up inviting her to 365.
• Without a flinch, she says OK.
• Ask her to sit with me for a moment so we can have an informal interview.
• She says, “I’d rather stand.”
• I decide it’s not personal that she does not want to sit across from me. I don’t think I’m scary. Although I’m sure there are still a few from Lanark Park who may beg to differ (Read 365 Day 4 / Fish Out Of Water Saved By Francis the Key Guy).
• Take photo and chat at counter for a bit.

My take away.

Nicke, you’re a sweetheart!

10:33pm. Still have not caught up with my lovely wife. Time to ask her, “How was your day?

Until tomorrow!

I’m growing to love my 365 Sunday neighborhood strolls. Yep, Lived in my house for 9 years, though I knew the area. And in only two weeks of 365 outings, am beginning to realize I really know nothing about the people who live so near to me, and how amazing they are. Everyone has a story, my local community is a testament to culture. Not talking about hyped culture. What I am focusing on is the kind that has roots: Individuals, families, and diverse origins. The streets around me are a real melting pot of humanity. And how cool is that!

It’s a funny thing how easy it is to get caught in the comfort of our own personal islands. Home is our sanctuary, but I’m also starting to accept the fact that it can be an isolation as well. Only 17 days into 365 and I’m blown away at what I am learning. Keeping my chins up and eyes open is showing me that the world really is a small place.

I challenge you to join me in reaching out. Get to know your neighbors. Not just the ones to the left and right of you. Dig a little deeper, walk a longer stride and say hello to faces you’ve never seen. I promise you’ll be better for doing so.

One of my philosophical soap boxes statement, “water does seek its own level.” I experience this point in flying colors tonight.

I’m out for only a few minutes, literally a 2 minute walk from my front door when I come across Artist, Janet, and her co-blogging daughter, Marie. It’s Marie’s birthday (HAPPY B-DAY). She, her Mother and baby Bichon Frise are on a neighborly walk. They are about 100 yards in front of me. The little voice in my heart is telling me I need to introduce myself to them. But, with the distance, I feel it would be a little creepy to speed up the pace to catch up to where they are. I tell myself if it is meant to be, it will be.

I divert my focus to enjoy the beautiful light passing through the trees, when Marie, Janet and Bichon baby stop to chat with a neighbor who is busily watering her lawn. Feeling a bit like an intruder, I step up into the conversation and introduce myself and my project.

Back to “water does seek its own level.” I find out that Marie is a very established stylist and fashion consultant, who prior to working on her own, was with Barneys New York. Quite an accomplishment for a woman in her early twenties. It’s always great to meet people in supporting fields. Check out her blog, themavenpost.com. This girl is really talented, so any of you reading this entry who are in need of a stylist, get her while you can, or at least put her in your contact list.

However, credit where credit is due. Marie comes from a line of artists. Here mother Janet is an accomplished pastel artist. We talk about art for a minute and they invite me into their home to see some of her drawings. We even figure out an on the fly way to photograph one of them. I would be remise by not showing you her artwork. It goes further though, Janet also has a son following in her artistic footsteps, a very successfully working celebrity photographer. Both she and Marie tell me about him with great pride. I always love it when I hear of other people keeping alive as photographers and artists. Thanks ladies for the affirmation.

Here is the greatest thing about the experience. As I am invited into the house, I am greeted into a living room full of some of the warmest people I have come upon. The home is busy with activity; family members are watching TV, playing with children or simply relaxing. Even though it’s family Sunday, they are all thoroughly welcoming to what is now, their experience in meeting a stranger, who? me!

I’m humbled by the time spent with this sweet family and walk away with another witness of family love and unity.

Thanks for the invite neighbors. I look forward to bumping into you again!

“We Need to Help Our Kids”

Nelson: Father, Businessman, Next Silver Screen Gangsta

Tonight my wife and I go out for a date night, thanks to the neighbors dinner invite of our daughter. It’s been a month since we’ve had some “us time,” and we decide to hit one of our favorite haunts, King’s Fish House.

Arriving with an hour and a half to spare, the timing is perfect, right before the dinner rush. Without a line, we easily slip in and are seated in a cool little two top, perfect for the three of us.

Three? “You said you and your wife?” How do you get three? My wife, myself and my camera bag. Terri sits across from me and I put my arm around lady camera. I’m lucky I don’t have a jealous wife.

16 days in, the camera bag is becoming a regular family member. Plus, it’s a great workout. I’m getting upper bodied buff from carrying the crazy 30 pound thing.

As we dine, I notice a different rapport emerging between us. We’re becoming world scanners, doing funny things like glancing over each other’s shoulders in quest for our next 365 acquaintance, or my latest favorite, the mid sentence head whip.

Our life habits are also changing. Little adjustments: Walking with chins up, looking into the faces of the people and paying more attention listening to the happenings around us. Living is slowly becoming a very fun experiment in voyeurism.

It’s a very subtle thing, no strange peaking eyes or uncomfortable stares. Just a simple acknowledgement of our fellow man’s existence. Could be a subtle nod, a relaxed hello, or a right to the point invitation to 365. Whatever the case, this street meeting of strangers is quite the journey.

We leave King’s, and outside the restaurant we come across a little cellular accessory kiosk. Operating it is our newest acquaintance to be: The passionate Peruvian businessman and father, Nelson.

Not only does Nelson have Hollywood leading man looks, he is much the gentleman. We chat of family, business and heritage.

I ask for him to explain his culture. “in Peru,” he tells me, “we are passionate, we love to love, eat, dance and enjoy life.” Qualities you can feel radiating from him. He talks of his father’s example as a businessman and how it has influenced his decisions. Nelson is a smart guy. He has several kiosks and a jewelry store (smartly placed adjacent to Victoria’s Secret). They say, “location is everything.”

Our time is rushed, having to pick our daughter up from her evening outing. We quickly discuss a few more questions and towards the end of our conversation, we stumble upon a dream of Nelson’s.

He wants to have a part in a gangsta movie. Not a street gang character, but one like Tony Montana from Scarface. We roll play for a moment. He has a look. After hearing this, I could not resist shooting an edgy photo for him. Introducing the Nelson alter ego.

One parting note about Nelson. As we get to know each other, we connect in talking about our daughters. We proudly share photos of them and spend a moment talking about the importance of children being protected, educated and raised in a safe environment. He makes suggestions as to the importance of community support for less privileged children. You’ve got to respect this man. Happy, passionate, and focused on family. It’s always encouraging to meet men like him.

Nelson, see you on the big screen!

“I’m Banished From the Wundr Studio at Helms”

Crew boot behind me (Read 365 Day 15 / 200 Strangers, A Blues Man and A Survivor: Part One), I wander the Helms Bakery complex.

Straight ahead are tons of people enjoying drinks at the local drink stop. I walk towards the crowd. An eclectic bunch, everything from dad’s holding babies to suited business people and the hip crowd. As I approach, my gut tells me not to shoot there. I’m learning to listen to that feeling.

I veer left, walk for a block or so, still nothing grabs me, and fearing the wrath of my crew if I return to the studio with nothing, I’m driven forward. Couples holding hands (it’s Friday date night), skateboarders, a large woman walking her tiny dog, still nothing pulls me in.

It’s getting dark, I know my crew is wanting me to return so that we can all go home. A touch of desperation settles in.

I look to the sky to slow my thoughts and clear my mind, hoping the pause will change my perspective.

And boy does it. I spot a silent man sitting on a bench, paper bag beside him and fruit popsicle in hand. People walk to the left and to the right of him, sadly ignoring his very presence. He is world weathered, but not dirty. There is something about him that is grounded and strangely spiritual – I’m drawn in.

It take’s me about a second to connect with him and he smiles with great laughter at the prospect of being part of 365. I sit on the ground in front of him and begin the interview. His story is heart heavy, peaceful an resolved.

This man fascinates me.

Mark is his name, he starts of with expressing that although he has had a hard life, he is thankful for living. You see, mark is a recovering drug and alcohol abuser. He tells me he has waisted most of his life, but is content with who he is now.

I ask him what he has done. he flinches slightly. I worry for a second that I have touched a sensitive nerve with my question. With a slight tear in the corner of his eye, he gives me the list.

I have not done terrible things, just stupid things. Not going into great detail, he outlines his history: construction, scab labor, 15 years in the gutter, 10 years in jails/prisons, all capped off by 4 years in a mental institution. That alone would kill most men, or at least push them to fully retreat from society. But Mark has chosen quite the opposite. To fight back to sanity and balance.

I am impressed with his courage to change. He enlightens me to the importance of community support groups and makes no attempt to hide his gratitude for the blessings of one humble Rabbi and the local Jewish Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Center. “They saved my life.” he says.

He offers me a popsicle, just having a pastry, I decline. He smiles and says, “how about a funny face.” There is no way I can pass on this photo opportunity. Mark delivers with flying colors.

It’s impossible for me to truly comprehend the full levels that this changed man has fallen to, but one thing is for certain, his heart is now pure and his mind is intact.

The sun is setting, Mark leans towards me and state’s, “it Shabbat, time for me to go to Synagogue with my girlfriend.” Repenting for past mistakes, he has devoted his life to peace and to making his girl comfortable. He tells me, “she has terminal Cancer, I’m by her side.”

I ask Mark if he would like to share anything with the world. Yes he says, “Be Good and Do Good.”

There is no way we can ignore this statement from a man like Mark.

Mark… Shabbat Shalom!