She who watches - 1

A spectral watcher at the window. Who is it? She does nothing, just watches and waits. But for what does she wait?

Watcher - 2

I had so much fun with this. I love doing this kind of messing around. It turns photography into a different art … not quite photography anymore, but something else. Artographs I call them and these are properly eerie, a watcher outside the window. Silent, waiting. Who is it and what does she want?


If I knew I was about to eat my last meal, that after this would come nothingness — maybe the void or perhaps that place wherein our souls finally rest. It would not matter to me what (if anything) was on my plate. No favorite dessert would have any importance, nor the finest confections of the greatest chefs.


What matters is who I’d dine with. The faces I see around me, the love I feel towards and from the people with whom I’m sharing what would have to be the ultimate special moment.

A banquet? Or a trip to some fast food joint? Why would it matter?

Gather to me the friends and family of a lifetime. Fit us tightly together, body-to-body so we can feel each others’ warmth. I want to share the breath of my friends, feel their touch, the beating of each and every heart. If the world and I are going to end, let me be with people I love.


Customer Service waiting

Why does the translator always pop up and offer to translate my Spam? Isn’t there some way to make that go away and never come back?

When I get put on hold, they always tell me how important I am to them, often just before they disconnect me or start playing the most annoying music ever to assault the ears of humankind:

  1. If I’m that important, hire a person to answer the phone.
  2. Is there a special place everyone goes to buy really annoying music so you can not only be on hold for hours, but listen to the same orchestral rendition of Something From the 70s over and over and over?

You call customer service. They ask for your account number, phone number, social security number, date of birth, home address. When — if — someone comes on the line, they will ask for the same information again. All of it.


You will be required to listen to a menu from which you must select your “problem” because “our menu items have recently changed” even though you’ve been working with this company for years and the menu has never changed. You cannot skip ahead to the menu selection you know you need.

The menu goes on forever. All the choices are apparently irrelevant. By number 7, you have no idea what the first six choices were and anyhow, you need to talk to someone. If — in desperation — you are fool enough to select from the list, you will get a robot that will send you back to the same menu.

If you press none of the selections and just wait, you may get a live person. Or disconnected. It’s a crap shoot.

Whoever you get will tell you it’s not their department. The department to which they direct you will tell you to go to the place that just sent you to them. If you point that out, they will disconnect you by “accident.”

Every company records every conversation “for quality assurance purposes” (and if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you), but the call during which they promised to fix your problem/refund your money was (oddly enough) not recorded. Nor did the person with whom you spent an hour on the phone add that all important note to your file.

Death cust serv

If you remember to get the name and some kind of ID of the person you are talking to, he or she will not exist when you call back.

No one has a number you can call back. Ever.

Is it just me? Or is there an international conspiracy to make us simply give up and live with whatever crap they throw at us?