Sunsets: One for the Road

There are a lot of differences between college kids and those who graduate college and begin their lives in the real world. But none are bigger than the group paycheck scenario at the local bar or restaurant.

Scenario #1: College. You go out to dinner with a group of friends. The waiter/waitress brings the check, a single check. The collection of undergrad students bust out their wallets and leaf around for some bills. They estimate what they believe their portion of the bill is to the exact penny, often not taking into account tax, and then round down. They throw that amount of money in the pile and immediately thrust their wallets deep into the nether-regions of their pockets, to a place where it shall not be retrieved for upwards to seven days. Someone, usually the type-A personality or the business finance major, gathers the bills on the table and proceeds to count. Now again, this is the college age kids scenario, so naturally, the total money thrown out by the scholarly participants is going to be about $5 short, not including tip. The fact they are $5 short is announced to the group and the group responds with inattentive gazes around the room, quizzical looks at the receipt, random mumbling to defray the awkward silence and a collective hope that someone will just bite the bullett and throw down a crisp $5 bill to cover the shortage. Eventually a few people begrudgingly take out single doller bills and throw them onto the current stack of money. They act as though it's no big deal when really they are seething at the thought of having to pay full value for what they ordered. The money is stacked nicely, a generous 6.5% tip is left neatly on the table, and the college crowd begins the 20 minute walk back to campus.

Scenario #2: Post grad/Newly worker crowd. Same idea, single check comes. The participants pull out their wallets, flip through about 4 or 5 plastic forms of banking cards but decide to just cash this one. They wade through their stacks of greenbacks, pull out enough to pay for their share, then pull out some more for the tip, then throw a little more out there just for the heck of it. However, then they proceed to gather it all up, put it back in their wallet and pull out a single larger bill that eclipses what they had initially put in. Someone casually counts the money (more of a rough estimate), realizes it's well over the bill+tax+tip and places the money back on the table. When the waiter/waitress comes back, at least two people make direct eye contact and say "keep the change". Sometimes I'm glad the college years are behind me.

Here is one last boulevard sunset pic for the road. Same night as the previous post. Just figured it needed a little notoriety as well.

Sunset: Boulevard

Boulevard Park

February 8 . 2010

I didn't plan on going to Boulevard this night to take pictures. I planned on going to the fashionably located Woods coffee, sipping on some drank and finishing some things I needed to finish. Simple as that. Then as I was driving down South State St, the sky started to light up, as it sometimes does during the evening hour. The closer I got to the park, the more the colors told me to pull over and take out the Rebel XT fastened with a Canon EF-S 15-85mm f/3.5-5.6 lens from the backseat. So I obliged. I'm glad I did. You may or may not know it, but you're glad I did to. You're welcome.

It's Morphin Time!

When I was young I hated waking up. Waking up didn't make any sense to me. The thought of rolling out of a perfectly comfortable and warm situation wasn't appealing in the least. In my life, things didn't always go my way. So when things were going my way, for example when I was enjoying being in bed sleeping, why would I voluntarily want to end that. My parents tried to instill in me a passion for waking up. They said "the early bird gets the worm". They sang "Good morning, good morning, good morning, it's time to rise and shine" repetitively in a high pitchy note. They threw things at me from a far to try and ruin the beautiful state of hibernation my body had realized. But I resisted. My will to sleep and be happy was found to be stronger than my parents could have ever imagined. Nothing could pull me free from the loving embrace of my comforter cover and twin size plush mattress. Nothing ... except, for the Power Rangers. Oh those Power Rangers. The most gloriously gifted and talented fighting squadron this side of the A-Team. These teen-ish aged special people, with help from their gack faced, tube dwelling leader Zordon, united to form a uniquely entertaining product ripe for viewership from young kids whose minds were still maturing and developing. Yet for reasons beyond me, the people who chose to air the greatest show ever decided 7am was a desirable time slot. 7am! That was 2 and a half hours before Carl Cozier Elementary School began each day. Who engages in child friendly ninja warrior combat prior to the lunch hour? The Power Rangers, that's who. So on those frightfully dark and chilly winter mornings when new episodes of the Power Rangers were set to air on Fox Kids, somehow my brother was able to do what my parents could only dream of. He summoned the inner strength necessary to coerce me to remove myself from my cocoon of peace and happiness and stumble down to the living room couch. With crusted shut eyes, sloppy morning breath and hair that resembled the underbelly of a wet dog, I watched the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers save the town of Angel Grove day after day, week after week. The putty patrol, Lord Zed and Rita Repulsa were no match for Zordon and his squadron of colorful spandex laden teens. Spandex laden teens who to this day remain one of the few reasons I ever voluntarily woke up hours before I had too.

On an unrelated note, here is a picture I took that I've thought about taking for a while now. I finally made it up to the Alabama Hill overpass before the sun officially went down. I don't love this picture. It's alright. There is much room for improvement. Hopefully I will be able to make those improvements soon.