DNC 2008: Day 2:: A Local’s Perspective.

Wow. What a day.

I had to get up early and go to class this morning, so avoiding the mess wasn’t an option. At least it was only my history class and I didn’t have to take a lot of stuff. So, I made my early morning trek to the school.

To start my morning off right, the first person I see was a woman that go on my elevator a few floors below me. Now, lets just say that God blessed this woman. A lot. She was very well endowed. So much so, that the shirt she was wearing with a very large picture of Obama’s face, sadly, didn’t look like Obama anymore… And her hair was probably as big as an african lion’s mane. I kid you not. I thought I had momentarily been transported back into the ’80s.

After a good chuckle, I headed to my next routine stop: the mall shuttle. I’m not sure if it was just too crowded yesterday to notice, or if they really weren’t put up until this morning, but a sign in (seriously.) every window of the trolley caught my eye. What did it say?

This bus is equipped with video/audio surveillance.

Hello, Big Brother. I guess I better watch what I say and not talk about bombs on the bus anymore…

Another thing I noticed is that newspaper stands have popped up EVERYWHERE downtown. I guess they figure that since we aren’t actually IN the Pepsi Center, we can tell who’s in town and what’s going on. Crazy.

As I got to Civic Center Station (my stop) I got off as usually, but it sounded like planes were flying over head. I looked up, and sure enough, four helicopters were hoovering over the capital (why the capital? no one was there…) I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I continued on my trek.

Once I got onto Lincoln, just passed Colfax, I was in front of the capital. The helicopters were gone by this point, so I figured that they’d finally made their way to the Pepsi Center in hopes of catching someone famous. I was looking at the sky watching the helicopters fly over, so I wasn’t really  paying attention. When I finally did start watching in front of me again, I noticed a bizarre scene. Two police cars were parked on the sidewalk in front of me. Yep. The sidewalk. I had to walk into the grass to get around them. I’m not sure that they were actually watching for traffic violators as much as being there in case of an accident, but who knows.

Once I actually got to the school, I realized I had forgotten my student ID. Great. At least one of the nice security guards was working. It was Jack. After waiting for him to finish his orientation for 3 other security guards who were to walk the perimeter of the school today, I finally got my pass to get into the school. From there, class went as usual.

After class, I ended up just heading home. I had forgotten my stuff to print for an assignment due tomorrow, so I figured I could at least get home and work on it some more.

I had a few errands to make, so I got off the trolley early, and ran into Claire’s. (I was looking for some stuff for a photo shoot.) After I was done, I headed to catch the next trolley, but it was so packed, I decided to walk up the few blocks to the Walgreen’s. Boy was I glad I did.

Here’s what happened next:

Wait, let’s back up for a minute. Remember earlier when I said that I only had my history class today, so I didn’t have to take much? It’s true. I didn’t. The saying ‘A photographer never leaves their house without their camera’ didn’t exactly apply to me today. I’m not sure why. Maybe I didn’t  think I’d see anything too interesting, but I definitely learned my lesson. I will always have my DSLR and Mr. Holga.

Ok, so back to walking. I’d walked about two blocks when I came to an intersection where absolutely no one was crossing. I looked up and saw the walk sign was a go, but then noticed everyone below the walk sign was stopped, and ready with their cameras, point and shoots, and cell phone cameras. I looked to my left.

An entire troop (thats right, TROOP) of swat team members, including some secret service agents were walking down the street. ( I do have some pictures I got from my phone, but you’ll have to excuse the quality. Like I said: Lesson learned. I will now always take my camera.)

You can’t exactly see a lot in this image, but the man just behind the man in the wheelchair ws one of the secret service agents, and behind him you can see the start of the swat team troop.

I decided to cross the street to stand with the rest of the ‘camera’ crew and watch to see what would happen. Before I knew what was going on, the swat team had surrounded the crowd on the other side of the street and a few cars pulled up.

It was the FBI. Two FBI SUV’s actually, escorting another SUV, followed by a state trooper and a few motorcycle cops. The front car had the windows rolled down and, well, lets just say they were armed and ready.

Here is a picture of the three SUV’s and the state trooper behind. The first two SUV’s were the FBI and the third was the car they were escorting.

Oh, and I did find out who it was. They drove by and I could see a glimpse, but not an actual face. Then I heard who it was: Hillary. No wonder!

They turned onto 16th St. and followed the shuttle the rest of the way down. I was walking, and kept up for a bit, but they got ahead, and I made a pit stop in Walgreen’s, so I never saw where they ended up. My guess was the Pepsi Center. Here’s a few more shots I got of them driving off behind the shuttle.

As soon as I stepped into Walgreen’s I again noticed something funny. Right up front they had one of the funniest displays I have ever seen. It was a lotion/sunscreen display, but at the top…well, I’ll just let you see for yourself:

Yeah, I’m still laughing at this one. They were everywhere.

After that, I went home and decided not to step out of my apartment until I had to be back at the school tonight for a photo shoot. Of course, I waited until D got home with the car and drove there. Fortunately, I was able to find parking not too far away.

After today, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow has in store! (Again, don’t worry. I’ll have better pictures…and TWO cameras!)

DNC 2008: Day 1:: A Local’s Perspective.

I made a vow to myself this morning. Since the DNC officially started today, I vowed that I would only leave the apartment if I had to (i.e. class) or if I was leaving the downtown area.

That lasted about 6 hours.

I found myself wandering down to the 16th St. mall this afternoon to get some film developed. Silly Barbara. What the heck was I thinking?! It was a nightmare! So, in a nutshell, here are today’s experiences:

1. Buses. 16th St Mall usually has free shuttles that run up and down the mall throughout the course of the day. During busy hours (i.e. 7:15-8:30am and 3:30-6:00pm) they usually have at least one every block. Often, this changes between and after these hours, slowing down to maybe one every 3-4 blocks and often times even less frequent. I was wandering around at a time of 2:30pm and, I kid you not, there were at least 3 shuttles per block!!! It was insane.

2. People. I don’t know if I have honestly seen so many people downtown before. I don’t remember the crowds being this thick on the fourth of July. The crowds were so large, the shuttles even had a hard time driving down the blocks. I don’t think there was one that I didn’t hear honk at someone.

3. Vendors. The vendors seem to appear from nowhere. They’ve even started showing up on my block. And they aren’t just selling DNC stuff. No, they are selling everything from hot dogs, to beaded key chains, to light up Obama Frisbees. Oh yes, it’s true. I’ve seem them. And of course they hound you as you walk away…

4. Police. Oh, where to begin. This started last Friday night. Or maybe it was the scary balloon regurgitater that got me to start noticing the police… Anyway, I just remember that even last Saturday when I was walking to the library, I saw at least 15 groups of 5 or more police. They all had their riot gear on. Keep in mind this was Saturday…two days before the start of the DNC. Needless to say, today was worse. Yes, their were hords of police on every corner. I saw about 10 mixed in with a large protesting group in the middle of the intersection at California and 16th. The police were trying to contain them so they didn’t get run over by the light rail that was passing by. What were they protesting, you ask? The war? Obama? The answer is simple: neither. I believe most signs went something like this: “Repent now or forever burn in Hell!” and “Jesus can save you from the fiery pits of Hell!” Yeah. Not exactly my friends. On top of that, I now believe I have seen it all. We’ve all seen police vehicles such as cars, vans, pickups, and cameros even. There are even bicycle cops. But today, I saw a police vehicle to end all police vehicles. A police golf cart. Complete with lights and a siren. I think I’m still in shock. Or maybe I’m just slow? At least I’ve never seen one. Maybe you have though… Whichever the case may be, it was still rediculous.

Needless to say, I’m not home and I refuse to leave for the rest of the evening.

Stay tuned for tomorrow. It’s another day where I have no choice but to venture out…twice. Oh, the joys of being in Denver living through one of the most annoying ‘once in a lifetime opportunities!’

wake boarding and the DNC

I tried my hand (or should I say body) at wake boarding today. Although I didn’t get very far (I stood up once out of about 1/2 a million pulls before quickly face planting myself directly into the water) I had a blast. It started raining soon after, and the clouds looked ugly and gorgeous all at once.

We got home and D passed out (although he didn’t even attempt wake boarding today…way too cold!). The wind and being outside really got to him.

My friend Nicki agreed to pose for me for a photo shoot today. It was so much fun. I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about finding people to pose for me. I don’t want to get into portraiture, so it makes me feel better that I don’t have to find people that I don’t know. I hate looking stupid in front of people I don’t know, and I feel that is exactly what I would do if I found a model I didn’t know. I’m so clumsy at posing, and I know it shows. I do really well at head shots, so I’d prefer to stick with though. My portraiture teacher, however, has different ideas.

This week is going to be full of studio times, and retouches. We’re starting to get to the end of the quarter, or at least starting to work on final projects, so it’s getting busy. I already have studio time booked for both Tuesday and Wednesday, and I’ll be back in for a few more days next week. I’m excited about those. I feel so at home in the studio, and they are definitely my favorite times.

I’ve decided to take up swimming again. Lap swimming, that is. I’ve still been running off and on, but I need something else to routinely trade off to. The rec center I go to (conveniently only a block from my house) has a pool that I’ve never taken advantage of. I used to be such an avid swimmer, but haven’t done much of it since my knee surgeries almost 8 years ago! I think it’s about time…

The DNC is being held in Denver this week. I do have to say, it is quite CRAZY here! I love living downtown, but I was already getting annoyed with the crowds on Friday night…and it won’t be over until the end of next weekend! If I could, I think I’d spend the entire week in my tiny little apartment avoiding the crowds at all costs. Unfortunately, I still have school, and my sanity to deal with. Although, my sanity may go with either choice.

I’ll let you know next week if my sanity is still there…

Two Songs.

Two songs.

If she heard nothing else for the rest of her life, she would have the music of those two songs with her forever. it didn’t matter that the world couldn’t hear them like she could, that no one else understood them in quite the same way. It didn’t matter because as long as she had them inside of her, she knew everything was going to be okay, that her reason was out there.

As the days went by, she found herself singing the songs, hoping with all of herself that they could come true, that someone would help her find a reason. She didn’t want to be forgotten. She wanted someone to remember her when she left. For what, she wasn’t sure. But there had to be something. Something that only she could do; something that someone would notice, if only for the few around her.

A dog barked in the background, breaking her from her thoughts. She noticed the crowds on the street growing thicker by the minute. How could it be that in a world full of people, she could be so alone? Why had it never occurred to her before that she was alone? It had never mattered. Why now?

She saw an old man crossing the street, back bent, cane wobbling, and a bag swinging from side to side hanging from the old mans free hand. What’s his story, she wondered. Was he alone? Did he have family. He looked up an noticed her. He smiled.

She smiled back, feeling more alive than she had in months. She didn’t even know him. Why would his smile make her feel good? It didn’t make sense.

Then again, these days, nothing made sense. It didn’t have to.

The old man dropped the bag, spilling the contents into the street. Cars honked at him as he gathered his items at a snails pace. She quickly ran to help him. She gathered up the shaving cream, the notebook, the small box of pens, and a box of peanuts. She put them into the bag and walked the remaining steps across the street with him.

He thanked her when they were safely on the curb. He asked if she would like to get a cup of coffee. Not a date, he said. Just a way to say thank you.

She smiled and agreed. As they walked arm in arm down the block to the coffee shop, she noticed the ring he was wearing. Because of the fact they were complete strangers, she didn’t question. He must have noticed her gaze.

As soon as they were seated with two large mugs of steaming coffee, he peered into her eyes. You were looking at my hands, he said simply.

She blushed and looked away, not knowing what to say. It’s okay, he said. They may be old and a bit wrinkled, but they are mine. I like them.

She wondered what those hands used to do. Was he a doctor? A laborer? Maybe he was a salesman, or an accountant. She asked as much.

A writer, he stated. She remember the notebook she picked up from the street, along with the box of pens. She asked about them. He told her of the times he used to write, but that his hands were too old and shaky now. The only writing I do now, he said, is letters to my grandson.

She was quiet. She didn’t want to pry, and the gaze on his face said he wanted to share. She didn’t want to interrupt him.

His mother – my daughter, he started, left home at an early age. Sixteen, I believe. She was pregnant, and her mother wanted to send her to a home. I refused, but my wife, well, what she said was good as done. I missed her terribly. We kept in contact by phone once in a while, and she sent me pictures of the boy. He’s a handsome one, that boy.

He paused, frowning, as though he had just thought of a part of the story that had been missing. He closed his eyes. She lifted her mug and took another sip, making certain to stay quiet in order not to interrupt the old man’s thoughts.

Finally, he continued his story, sharing about how his wife had died of cancer a few years back.  After the funeral, he and his daughter reunited, meeting for the first time in almost 25 years. He finally met his grandson, who promised to write.

I’d never actually met the boy until that moment, he said quietly. And I know I’ll never do anything great for him, but I’d like to leave a legacy when I go. I guess it just makes sense that I want it to be with him. He ought to know who his family was, and where he comes from. My daughter died last year, and I’m not certain my grandson and I will stay in touch for much longer, given my state of health. I write him once a week. Every couple of months, he sends a letter back to me, but he is busy. What can he do with a useless old man?

He looked down towards his mug and closed his eyes. This was nothing but a sad old man who had no one.

After a few moments of silence, she felt the need to say something. She asked him what kind of writing he used to do. He listed off the number of books that were published, small books that, rarely, anyone read. Most were a compilation of poems about to his wife, or the things he saw around him in the world. The look on his face told her exactly how much he missed it, his way of expressing his view to the world.

She reached over and grabed the shopping bag of the man’s belongings. She took out the notebook and one of the pens from the box and placed them in front of him. His eyes opened.

Write something for me, she said quietly, smiling.

His head bobbed up almost immediately. What? he asked. Had he heard her right?

She repeated herself. Momentarily taken aback, a smile finally broke free on his face and he picked up the pen. He opened the notebook to a clean sheet of paper, looked thoughtfully at her for a moment and began to write.

When he handed her the page, full of bright vivid words, she read it quietly with a grin on her face. It was perfect. They talked for an hour more before departing their separate ways with promises of letters. She hadn’t felt so happy in a long time.

It was four weeks later when she ready the paper and found his obituary. She dressed in her best black dress and her best heels before heading to the cemetery for his funeral. With only three others in attendance, it was a lonely, grim day. But she couldn’t help but think that this lonely old man wasn’t leaving behind nothing. He was leaving behind a legacy. It just wasn’t the one he thought, or to the person he thought. He left it with me, she thought.

As soon as she got home, she took out the paper he had given her that day in the coffee shop. She read it, and re-read it, each time it brought more happiness and hope into her. Her smile began to widen. She was so caught up in finding her own reason to be missed in this cold thoughtless world that she didn’t even stop to think she could help someone else find what she’d been looking for. This was his reason, she thought.  She had helped him find his reason to be missed.

And he was missed, everyday for the rest of her life. And it was all because of those two songs.