Kilts and pee, oh my!
There aren’t many of them, to be certain, but that makes the danger all the more keen. Maybe you’ve known some of them at one time or another. This is actually pretty likely as many of them are prolific socialites. Or maybe you’ve just seen them in passing; some bare and hairy knees spotted in a shocking and distracting moment. Car crashes aren’t unknown after these distracting encounters, and indeed it is well-known that several highland clans used this as a tactic: Flash your knees and then slaughter the survivors.
They are the Scottish and they are everywhere.
In the last week I’ve seen a shocking amount of honest-to-god Scots wandering about North Las Vegas, considering where we are. Two on Saturday, three on Sunday and one hairy bastard at six o’clock this morning wearing a plaid kilt. The knees, oh god, his knees. I tasted vomit right then.
Mumbling aside, all the highlanders wandering about have put me in mind of how much of a transient city that Las Vegas is. We all come and go, but only a few stay here, and only a few people whom I’ve met, such as my sister-in-law are actually native to here.
How many degrees of separation, you say?
One fact about Ireland that I’m at pains to stress is that, within a few degrees of separation, everyone on our fair isle knows virtually everyone else, especially within given communities. Idon’t feel that it’s a stretchto saythat most of the gaming (roleplaying/war games/ccg) community knows almost everyone else, at least by sight. I vividly remember being in Dublin or London over the yearsand meetingby chances a person whom I met at Gaelcon or Gencon.
My mum cranks, as they say, all of this up a notch. We could (hypothetically…of course) drop her out of a helicopter into a pack of ravenous African lions and, lo andbehold, she realizes that why aren’tyou thatbeautiful lioness I saw all those years ago in Dublin zoo? And sure how are the cubs? Great, fantastic! Would I like to come in an havea cuppa?Absolutely! And then they’d talk until the giraffes came home.
Twice now in Las Vegas, a full seven thousand, eight hundred and thirteen kilometre from Galway as the crow flies, have I encountered people who know mum. One in McMullans Irish pub when mum was visiting here, she met some norn fellows who knew her and behold, they talked for half an hour like old friend. Yesterday, I met the O’Connell from Clifden in county Galway, who are touring the whole west coast by car. After a financial windfall through work they decided to take off to the United States for the summer. The two parents in the family both knew mum by sight as they often eat at her workplace when they’re in Galway.
’tis a small world.
Welcome to Minas Morgul Las Vegas
Going from day to day over the last, I’ve always felt that Las Vegas has lacked something, some indefinable feeling that something is just wrong about the city. It took me until last night, when we were driving past a food stand on our way to the hospital (more below) to precisely pin down what it was: The city is too planned, and this fact takes away the feeling of belonging that comes with many other places I’ve been, both big and small. The city is a straight grid dropped down over the desert; north to south and east to west. There’s a retail park here, a housing development there, public amenities over here and here. I’m not going to admit to a belief in feng shui, but I will admit that Las Vegas feels a little like Minas Morgul at times, that it’s a place which really shouldn’t be.
Back to the hospital: Mariah has had a bad ear infection for the last four days, but took until last night before she would finally go to the hospital and get it looked at. Their resident ear and throat specialist referred to it as ”all funky” and sent her home with a prescription for ear and pain medication at a cost (so far) of almost two hundred dollars. What’s wrong with America that they can’t have universal health care like oh, everywhere else? It was sickening that the first and last things we were asked were, “Have you insurance?” “How would you like to pay?” Why wasn’t it, “Where does it hurt?” It pissed me off no end that this country can be so backward at times because I come from a country where the most pressing medical question isn’t how the patient will pay!
She’s home on the couch, sick, now.
I took a few photos of Caira yesterday, to prove that can still do it. I’m not going to say what I think of where my photographic skills stand, but I will say that I find that I’m still in love with the fifty. I have this horribly afflicted love for bokeh and the lens is still perfect, if cheap, for it.
Last, but not least, I’m an uncle, as of Thursday night Friday morning. Ella Mary Grealish was born at 0200 on May 16 2008, underweight but otherwise healthy. Nice one Jen.
Day 2: Falling leaves
Mariah helped out with the water hose and positioning - putting a mist behind the leaf scattered the light in a really lovely manner.
Leaves falling…what does it symbolize beyond something falling? To me, not much. Symbolism and hidden messages I will certainly try for in my landscape and infrared work, but detail work like this I attempt for the sheer joy of shooting it.
Caira’s sick
Whiny, clingy, green poop, sleepy. All the symptoms are there. :[
Me, elsewhere
