Mesilla, New Mexico

Mesilla is the historic section of Las Cruces, New Mexico. The centerpiece is the Basilica of San Albino. As old churches go it’s not particularly impressive, but judging by the number of people taking pictures it must have something going for it. Today was the second time I have tried and failed to get inside.

imageIn the early days of my interest in photography I tried to keep cars out of my pictures because I thought I could not create “art” if there was a Toyota parked front and center in the middle of it. But over time I realized that, first of all, I was not creating art, and second, when I looked at old pictures with cars in them it was the cars, more often than not, that were the most interesting thing in the picture. So from now on the cars will stay. I just hope that I live long enough that when I look back at these pictures the cars actually look old. All of these photos were shot with an iPhone camera.

image image


During the Civil War, Mesilla was a pro-Confederate community which served for a while as the capital of the Confederate Arizona Territory.


Billy the Kid was tried and convicted of murder in this building that is now a gift shop. He was sentenced to hang, but before that could happen he escaped from his jail cell, killing two deputies in the process. Later on he was either killed by Pat Garrett or he died an old man in Texas, whichever version of his demise you are prone to believe.image


Mesilla today is a nice mix of art galleries, restaurants and gift shops.




As I was getting in my car to leave I heard a very old man talking about what a wonderful place Mesilla is, and how it was better than Yuma and so much better than Santa Fe, because you can’t relax in Santa Fe. I’ve never been to Yuma so I’ll take his word on that, but I don’t remember Santa Fe being overly stressful, although I guess if I was almost a hundred years old I might have a different perspective.

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Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Sioux Falls is one of those towns you rarely hear about, but when you have a chance to spend a few days exploring it, you come to realize it is (cliche alert) an undiscovered jewel. It’s a friendly town in general but the residents seem like a hardy sort who wouldn’t put up with a lot of nonsense. It must be a Midwestern thing. The older neighborhoods are still livable and well kept, with cropped lawns, elaborate flower beds and restored homes being common. It’s one of the rare places that when I’m driving around I think, “Yeah, I could live here.”

Of course, you can’t go to Sioux Falls without seeing the namesake falls, so here they are.


The falls on the Big Sioux River.



I've never been a fan of Canadian Geese. they rank just slightly above pigeons in my opinion. But sometimes they will pose for a decent picture.

I’ve never been a fan of Canadian Geese. They rank just just above pigeons in my opinion. But sometimes they will pose for a decent picture.

main st.


The most prominent feature of Sioux Falls has to be the cathedral on the hill. You can see it from a long way in almost any direction.

St. Joseph's Cathedral. Built in 1916.

St. Joseph’s Cathedral. Built in 1916.

IMG_3907Houses on Cathedral Hill.

homesThere are some beautiful restored homes on Cathedral Hill but there are also some pretty sketchy characters walking around. I didn’t notice any graffiti, so maybe the taggers and the preservationists have some kind of understanding.

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Northern Colorado

The best thing about Loveland, Colorado is that it’s in northern Colorado, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. The worst thing about Loveland is that it’s in northern Colorado, on the edge of the High Plains, which is also home to large numbers of cattle feed lots, so that in the morning especially, you are likely to be knocked to your knees by the stench in the air. Otherwise Loveland is a clean and prosperous little town with a lot to offer, and if I had to live there, I think I could do it quite easily.

streetDowntown Loveland.

lake statueLike a lot of towns in this part of the country Loveland has a large number of public statues. I don’t know why this is. Here are some of them.



millAn old mill or something with a Colorado touch. If you are wondering there are no pot shops in Loveland yet. I checked.

IMG_3756Artwork on the side of a Loveland building.

stanley3The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park. Supposedly the inspiration for Stephen King’s The Shining. Redrum.

mountains closeThe view from just below the Stanley Hotel.

estes park-640The same view from higher up on the Stanley grounds taken around 1992 when I visited the area with my much younger family.

mountains4-AMountains and clouds.

mountain7Mountains and homes in Estes Park.

riverThe Pouder River canyon west of Ft. Collins is quite scenic and worth the drive if you have the time. My oldest daughter and I took a float trip on this river on our vacation in the 1990’s. It was a good day.

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Lubbock, Texas

Lubbock, Texas is built on the Llano Estacado, an escarpment, or mesa, that is slightly larger than the state of Indiana. The landscape, described in song by James McMurtry as being “flatter than a table top”, was once covered by prairie grasses as far as the eye could see in every direction. Those who saw it and left a written record said the absence of landmarks was strangely disorienting. Most of them compared it to being at sea. Two centuries ago the only inhabitants on the land were buffalo and the Comanche Indians, who took it away from the Apaches, thus achieving the distinction of being the baddest of the bad-ass American Indians. Today most of the land that does not rest underneath towns and cities is parceled up in sections for agriculture.

Storm clouds on the far horizon west of Lubbock.

Storm clouds on the far horizon west of Lubbock.

Lubbock does not seem to have a wealth of history, but this could be because it has only been incorporated since 1909, and also because a monster tornado hit downtown in 1970, destroying many businesses, and presumably, the older buildings that housed them. As far as I have been able to learn nothing exciting ever happened in Lubbock, in a Western historical context anyway. There were no legendary gunfights. The cattle drives went far to the east.  It was never a haven for outlaws. It was never attacked by Indians or a foreign army. No barons or titans of industry ever called it home. There was never a land rush or a gold rush.
This is the tallest building to ever sustain a direct hit from an F5 tornado.

This is the tallest building to ever sustain a direct hit from an F5 tornado.

In fact, one of the nice things about Lubbock today is that nobody seems to be in any kind of a rush at all. It’s a slow and easy place, prosperous and friendly. It’s a place that bleeds red and black for Texas Tech University. It’s blinding sunshine and unceasing wind.  It’s a place where the horizon is black with storm clouds one minute, and the next minute it’s not. It’s a place where women you have never met before will call you sweetheart.

Buddy Holly Statue Lubbock

At the Buddy Holly Memorial

Something special that Lubbock did have once was a fellow named Charles Hardin Holley. The world knew him as Buddy, and he is without equal as Lubbock’s most famous citizen. In the Depot District there is a Buddy Holly Memorial and a Wall of Fame honoring him and other famous West Texans, most of them musicians. I was only five years old when The Music died, and I have no memory of him other than what I’ve seen in old film clips. I always wondered if he would have achieved the same immortality had he never boarded that plane in 1959. His music seems a bit one-dimensional to me, but then again, what do I know. His influence on people who would follow him, including Bob Dylan and the Beatles, was, by their own testimony, enormous.


City of Lubbock Cemetery

Holly is buried in the city cemetery with other family members. His headstone bears the actual spelling of his family name.


On Wednesday I took a drive to Levelland. I don’t know if the town was the inspiration for the McMurtry song of the same name, but the lyrics fit well all the same. There truly is nothing but level land, far as you can point your hand.

The courthouse square at the appropriately named Levelland, Texas, 25 miles west of Lubbock.

The courthouse square at the appropriately named Levelland, Texas, 25 miles west of Lubbock.

Not ones to let all that wind go to waste, Lubbock is at the forefront of wind power research and usage. It is also home to the American Wind Power Center and Museum.
Wind HDR2 Lubbock has an abundance of pick-up trucks with cowboys behind their steering wheels; some of them real, and some of them pretending. The other night at Texas Roadhouse a man sat down at the bar next to me wearing a white Stetson and a plaid shirt with pearl-snaps and for a split second I could have sworn it was George Strait.

In 1980, Lubbock native Mac Davis wrote a song that contained the lyrics, “Happiness is Lubbock, Texas in the rearview mirror.” People who didn’t listen to the whole song assumed it was being critical of Lubbock, and it caused a bit of a dust-up. Eventually everybody came around and the city honored Mr. Davis with a place on the Wall of Fame, and also with a street bearing his name.

I was neither happy nor sad when I left Lubbock early on Friday morning. It was just time for me to go. Besides, there are no rearview mirrors on Southwest jets anyway.



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Birmingham, Alabama

All of the photos I took on my recent trip to Birmingham were taken with an iPhone, most using the free Pro HDR app. It’s a good tool for taking pictures in low light.


Like a lot of  cities, downtown Birmingham seems to be going through a slow renaissance. There is still some blight, but there is also new residential construction and several vintage buildings are being rehabilitated.


From the bridge over the railroad yard.


City Federal has been converted to condominiums.


The 16th St. Baptist Church was the site of one of the most despicable acts of domestic terrorism in American history. Four members of the Ku Klux Klan set off a bomb on a Sunday morning in January, 1963, killing four young girls. Bombings were so common in those days the city was derisively known as “Bombingham.”


Walkway under the train tracks.


A clock on a bank.


A fountain at another bank.  Downtown Birmingham has a lot of banks, and hospitals.


An Art Deco door on the vacant Liberty National Life building on 20th St. Very Atlas Shrugged.


Birmingham has a history of being a steel manufacturing center, and this statue of Vulcan has something to do with that history, but I’m not sure what because I didn’t think it was worth paying $6 to find out, and plus I was short on time.

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Marco Island, Florida

The best part of Florida that I have seen personally starts at the shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico and goes inland for no more than a half-mile. Call it the Gold Coast or whatever you like, it is the only thing that makes visiting Florida worthwhile. The rest the state features terrain so flat that Illinois farm country looks hilly by comparison. The undeveloped wild is primarily pine trees growing out of hard-packed soil or a low, scrubby brush that burns with amazing frequency. Despite nine feet of annual rainfall, the Florida boondocks seem to be on fire all the time. My other impressions of the state are, in no particular order: it’s a land of hairstyles that went out of fashion in the nineties, it has bugs the size of small birds and some of the most idiotic politicians anywhere. It is also home to the largest number of people, per capita, who should have their drivers licenses immediately revoked. I wouldn’t give you two cents for any of it, except for a spot in the aforementioned and highly coveted half-mile strip. In other words, to be near the ocean is the only reason a sane person would go to Florida. And that is the reason Cheryl and I went there last week.

Cheryl at sunset on Marco Island.

Cheryl at sunset on Marco Island.

One of the perks of having a traveling job is getting reward points from airlines, hotels and so forth. All totaled, our share of the cost for airfare, rental car and five nights at the Marriott Resort on Marco Island was $17. Now that’s my kind of vacation. Still, we somehow managed to spend $1554.37. (Yes, I am one of those people who keeps track of such things.) Apparently those $12 drinks from the tiki bar add up in a hurry.

the view from the ninth floor balcony.

The view from the ninth floor balcony on an overcast morning.

Bordered by Collier Blvd. on the east and the blue-green Gulf of Mexico on the west, the Marriott is a well run, semi-luxurious hotel and resort complex. The grounds have a tropical theme (surprise) and they are immaculate, tended by a small army of gardeners who keep the lawns and plants and flowers manicured to standards surpassed only by Disney World.


Florida sunshine.


What are you looking at, bird?

Walking seems to be the predominant leisure activity on Marco Island. Beach walkers can be seen day and night, strolling just out of reach of the tepid surf that laps at the shoreline. The side-walkers stroll up and down Collier Blvd., presumably because they don’t like the idea of sand in their shoes.


No idea why I included this one. For some reason I just liked it.

On Marco Island it is relatively easy to distinguish the full-time residents from the tourists. The locals are generally older, past retirement age, and they have sagging breasts, enlarged bellies and leathery skin the color of a tarnished penny. I’m speaking of the men here as well as the women. The only real difference between the two is the wiry gray hairs that sprout from the backs and shoulders of the gentlemen. Some of these people are so tanned it makes me question the conventional wisdom that too much sun is bad for us, because these dark brown white folks seemed to be getting on rather nicely.

A sea shell hunters paradise.

Marco Island is a sea shell hunters paradise.


The view from my beach lounger


Sundown on the island.

Cheryl has this notion in her head that we should retire and spend two or three months of every winter on Marco Island. Personally I like the idea, but here’s the thing. There are a lot of wealthy people on the island, and that translates into expensive real estate and rents. Cheryl has always been the dreamer in our relationship, so I am left to take the role of the realist. This has made me unpopular on many occasions. What it means in this case is that Cheryl sees us in a high-rise condominium overlooking the wide panorama of the Gulf of Mexico, whereas I see us in a trailer park in Punta Gorda overlooking the koi pond. If you think for one minute I’m going to do that, I invite you to  return to paragraph one.

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Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Last week I was in Pittsburgh, compliments of the Polar Vortex, a weather phenomenon nobody had ever heard of three weeks ago, and there was general agreement among people I met that the name was coined as a joke by bored meteorologists. The PV, as I am certain we will all be calling it soon, was responsible for freezing half the plumbing pipes in the Middle Atlantic States, and that was the reason for my trip.

My hotel was in the heart of the city, just west of downtown, a short walk from the cultural district and the University of Pittsburgh. To me this was a welcome change, since I normally find myself in the suburbs; the generally convenient but consistently predictable suburbs.

The view from my hotel terrace.

The view from my hotel terrace.

This part of Pittsburgh appears to be a healthy mixture of different ethnicities and levels of status. Early twentieth century mansions, many of them still well kept, and three-story row houses, some not so well kept, seem to coexist through an unspoken understanding that both have a right to share the space. Students from the University of Pittsburgh and nearby Carnegie Mellon walk and jog and bicycle the streets in large numbers.


I found Logan’s Pub on a corner of Craig St., and they sold Yuengling, my favorite beer that I can’t get at home. Logan’s is a neighborhood bar. It’s smoky, very much working class, and the regulars were an equal mixture of black and white. They all seemed to know each other, and to the casual observer they all appeared to be friends, which I found positive and hopeful.

St. Paul's Catholic Cathedral

St. Paul’s Catholic Cathedral

I like to sit in the back pews of old cathedrals and just appreciate the detail in the architecture. My interest is not spiritual, although if something of that nature were to come upon me while I sat there, I think that would be alright. It fascinates me that just a few generations ago people routinely built these magnificent buildings. What a lost art it is. I doubt that in one hundred years anyone will ever sit in the back of a modern day mega-church and marvel at the craftsmanship in the prefabricated concrete walls.


When I was a teenager my father took the family to Pittsburgh, combining a business trip and a family vacation. One summer night we went to Forbes Field to watch the Pirates play baseball. I distinctly remember seeing Roberto Clemente play in right field. It was one of the highlights of my life, and when I tell people who are baseball fans I once saw the great Clemente they never fail to be impressed.

At Logan’s Pub there is a photograph on the wall of Forbes Field, and written on it in white ink was the address of the old ballpark. I put the location in my phone and a map came up showing it was just a few blocks away, on what is now part of the University of Pittsburgh campus. A building called Posvar Hall sits on the spot today, but the home plate from the ball field can still be seen there, encased by heavy glass in the lobby floor.

The Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh is the tallest college building in the Western Hemisphere.

The Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh is the tallest college building in the Western Hemisphere.

Parking is a headache in this part of Pittsburgh, and so are potholes and crumbling curbs, but there are many good places to eat, and Tessaro’s on Liberty Avenue is one of them. I recommend the Ruben sandwich and the hamburger, for which they are locally famous. The lobster ravioli at Lucca’s on Craig St. is also very good, though they are much to proud of their beer. Unfortunately, I cannot be so charitable about The Pittsburger at Primanti Bros. on 18th Street, which is marketed as a cheesesteak sandwich. I’ve never had a cheesesteak like it, and I don’t mean that in a good way. There are french fries in the sandwich, for god’s sake, and coleslaw, and the meat was some kind of frozen patty that wouldn’t make the cut at McDonald’s. It was an unnatural experience best forgotten. Next time I’ll try the pastrami.

Mural in Tessaro's restaurant

Mural in Tessaro’s restaurant

My co-worker Chapin and I agreed we would like to see Pittsburgh in the summer, and also in the fall, as we guessed in those months it would be quite attractive. But in January it is a cold, dreary place, and the surrounding hills are bleak and without color except for browns and grays, and I understand why the filmmaker picked this area as the setting of The Road, a story about a post-apocalyptic world. It was an appropriate choice.

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