Good morning and greetings, Gin Blossom lovers. I always like to jump start the new month with some spectacular color, usually from the skies above our central coast. But instead, today we are drawing our May cornucopia of oranges, reds and deep purples from Father Earth, who is not to be confused with Father Time, Father Flanagan or Father Knows Best. As trombone player Jimmy Pankow of Chicago Transit Authority wrote, “Color my world with hope of loving you.” But more importantly, sorry about that game seven loss to the Celtics, Bulls fans.
So what is it, my fascination with color? What’s the deal or no deal, what’s so special about this Jesse Jackson rainbow coalition of rhythm and blues, collard greens and mellow yellows? I remember growing up in the early 60′s during the days of JFK and Camelot, watching “The Honeymooners” and “Sargeant Bilko” on black and white TV, and thinking, yeah, this is great. Then color TV strolled into my life and I thought, this is even greater. And then I got my braces off and I thought, in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, “Free at last. Thank God Almightly, my teeth are free at last.”
But I think the seminal moment for the color infusion harmonically incurred at a friend’s house. My old New Jersey pal, Steve Margolin, had a live-in maid named Minnie. In her room was a black and white TV, on which someone had cleverly placed a striped color screen and voila, before you could say, “This is Walter Cronkite,” she had herself a color TV. This was truly a Kodak moment. The setup, in the words of Guiness Beer, was “Brilliant!” Or to paraphrase the words Mr. Phil “In The Air Tonight” Collins, “I saw true colors.”
I’ve never had any real interest in shooting with black and white film. I’ve always felt that since life, at least for us lucky ones, is lived in color, why go ebony and ivory? Although according to Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder, “They do live together in perfect harmony.” Ansel Adams was never one of my boyhood idols. I was more of a Mickey Mantle, Seymour Hersh and Raquel Welch fan. I think I may have been ahead of my time as my credo has always been, if you shoot in the black and white, the terrorists win.
So here’s a collection of floral finery that I spotted as I made my rounds along the westside of Santa Cruz. I took a good shot of a hummingbird feeding on those purple cones (pride of madeiras) that will be coming down the pike. Unfortunately, none of today’s beauties are from my front yard, although I’ve got more variety of weeds than a San Francisco cannibas dispensary. Neil Young says rust never sleeps. Well, weeds keep the rust company at night.
No late night humor this week as I didn’t see much that tickled my fancy. “You know who really needs to worry about the swine flu? Kevin Bacon.” So we’ll go with a joke from my English literature loving son, Jason. Police are investigating an accident in which two trucks loaded with Roget’s Thesaurus collided as they left a London publishing house. Witnesses were stunned, startled, aghast, taken aback, shocked, stupefied…
So enjoy the color and the tower of flower power that Misty May brings to the table. And of course, the second round of the NBA playoffs that hopefully draws us closer to the LeBron /Kobe slugfest of basketball greatness. And try not to sweat the small stuff, they’ll be time for that later. Seize the day and the rebound. We’ll catch you on the screen and roll. Aloha, mahalo and later, Rick Barry fans.