Was it really FIFTY YEARS AGO?

This is a repost of one I did on July 20, 2009. Hard to believe this was so very long ago.

This is for Robert at Live from the Surface of the Moon. I generally don't share personal family photos or anything that I've shot, but this is different. This is part of the human experience 40 years ago. This was a global experience and I haven't seen anything since then that has stopped the rotation of the earth in the same way. 

I was one of those people sitting glued to my tv for days awaiting the arrival of the astronauts on the moon and none of it was a hyped let down. It was all magnificent. I snapped pictures with my 35 mm Mamiya Sekor. I had my little reel to reel tape recorder going. All I have left are vague memories buried deep inside that can really only be conjured by closing my eyes or going outside on an especially beautiful full moon night. The reel to reel recording? In a box. I long ago lost the ability to play it. I'm sure there are thousands of photos like this all over the world in long forgotten boxes.

For those who weren't alive to experience this, I'm sorry. You missed a humdinger!

July 20_1969_step to the moon_tatteredandlost

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July 20_1969_live from the moon_tatteredandlost

Years later friends dragged me nearly kicking and screaming to the MGM Grand for a show. First off I don't like casinos, secondly I hate casino shows. This was billed as an extravaganza with the high point...a real plane on the stage with half naked woman standing on the wings waving and truly lousy dancers cavorting across the stage as the curtain was pulled back. I gritted my teeth while the people in the audience sat mesmerized and applauding. It was all nonsense and I wondered how they could be excited by this when less than 10 years before we'd seen two men walk on the moon. People forget and they move onto the next shiny object. Not me.


The Party's OVER

In keeping with this Saturday's Sepia Saturday prompt I give you my take on the revelers.

The party is over and the women have excused themselves to the kitchen where they make in depth small talk (they do it, seriously, it's in depth) over the cold cuts...

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while the men...well, the men haven't quite stopped partying. They can tell it to the judge in the morning.



Ahhh, SWEET WILDERNESS...Sour Stomach, but Sweet Wilderness

Nothing like having breakfast outside on a camping trip...unless you get food poisoning. You're a long way from medical attention out in the woods. You better make sure to NOT put mayo on anything before you leave home.

As to what's going on here? I'd say these folks are not paying attention to the family member writhing next to the tent. Did he eat something gone bad? Is the woman in the foreground smelling the bread thinking, "Oh geez, this is gone bad. Wonder if anyone has noticed."
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 This is my submission this week for Sepia Saturday. Just hang the sign on my door "Gone Camping!"

And no idea why the second photo is green. The original isn't. The one uploaded isn't. But then this page has been a nightmare to create. 



Looking at this week's Sepia Saturday prompt I'm wondering if this might be where the man in the straw boater was heading.

In this case, this dapper Dan, is my great-grandfather with his second wife. His name really was Dan. This was in the backyard of their row house in Pennsylvania, probably around 1914.

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Meteor Bob was part of the early space program. It was very low budget. Bob would wander around in his backyard with a badminton racket perusing the sky for any incoming meteorites. For each meteorite he hit back into orbit he would be paid $50,000.

Bob died a very poor man.

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Always available for Sunday afternoon games, Mrs. Stickey Wicket was always the first person invited to croquet parties. She never understood why.

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A MAN and His Car

Living in California we are pretty much raised to think a car is an extension of our body. We also seem to think it's a constitutional right to have a car. No place is this more obvious than Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area during commute time. Pure hell. Car after car going by with a single occupant.

It used to be, I believe, that cars were a statement about a man's manhood. For woman it wasn't the engine—or so the dealers thought—but the color of the outside and interior of the car and whether it had a mirror the ladies could look at to do their makeup. Seriously, they were idiots. Though I find nearly all ads for cars pretty stupid and repetitive (don't get me started on the luxury models that we're supposed to put under the Christmas tree each year), at least there is an attempt to go beyond the clich├ęs of the past with the male/female stereotypes. Now we're supposed to be reckless, off-road, and extremely hot looking. I'm just glad I ended up in publishing and not advertising. I would have been shown the door in no time at all.

This week's Sepia Saturday photo is of a fellow standing in front of a car. I immediately went to the big BIG box of photos I was given for Christmas. Surely in the hundreds of shots in that glorious box there must be at least one of a guy with a car. I stopped after finding the following three.

I do know who this fellow was. His name was Ben and he was a Naval officer.

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On the back of this one it says "Taken June 18, 8th grade graduation." Diggin' the car and the flattop.

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NO idea who this fun fellow is.

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I love my car. I love driving my car. I have always loved driving. I do like to drive fast, but I don't anymore. The fastest I've ever driven was on the Autobahn. I thought I was doing pretty good until I saw the flashing headlights way way way behind me approaching at a tremendous speed. No sooner had I seen them and pulled into the slower lane than a Porsche blur shot by. I pretty much stayed in the slow lane the rest of the time which was still moving very fast.

As I recall I have only one photo of myself standing next to a car. It was a bright red Audi in Germany. I loved that car too. It's long gone, but like with most cars, the memory remains.