View allAll Photos Tagged Refuse
Chassis: Peterbilt 320
Body: Amrep Octagonal ASL
Hauler: R & F Disposal, Inc.
Location: McFarland, CA
Date: January 2017
See Video of This Truck on YouTube!
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.
EXPLORED ON 18 JULY 2009 - # 473
On a trip to Mahabalipuram, this week, I met this woman selling juicy mangos in the early hours of the morning. I was amazed at the colors that was on display and quickly went over to her to ask if I could shoot her.
She was not very open to it and said that she had not yet done any business that day. Hence she felt that by posing for me, it would bring her bad luck.
I thought about Don Corleone of The God Father fame, and offered her a deal that she could not refuse. I offered to buy a dozen mangos from her, if she would allow me to take her portrait. Her face beamed. She did her business first, then blessed the first income of the day and inserted into her money bag. Then gave me this gentle smile, signaling that now she was ready to be photographed. Click....and a few more clicks.
Happy Weekend my friends.
Photograph © Kausthub Desikachar
Photographed with a Canon EOS 5D Mark II, and Leica R Summilux 80mm F1.4 Lens, with B+W UV + Haze Filter. Handheld.
The Leica Glass on a Canon body, combines the best of both worlds. Manual Lens with Digital body. Old school with new technology. It just rocks.
Because this is not a canon compatible lens, but has been used with an adaptor, the lens info will not reflect correctly in the EXIF data.
Please do not reproduce in any form without prior written consent from the copyright holder. Please contact the photographer through Flickrmail, to inquire about licensing arrangements.
Almost a scene from fifty years ago, but straight away the eye begins to notice the differences. Wheelie-bins and sacks of refuse instead of galvanised dustbins, modern roofing materials, no gas lighting, untamed greenery and the well-fed outlines and graceless costume of the two figures. Still, here in Merthyr Tydfil it is easy to narrow the eyes and enjoy the illusion of "stepping back in time". On the subject of refuse collection and dustbins, we always called ours "the ashbin" for, in those days, their contents were largely the ashes of domestic coal fires. All the rubbish of two adults and two children went into a single bin, which was emptied weekly. Currently our two-person household produces one large wheelie-bin and another, somewhat smaller, of "food waste" fortnightly ...relatively about the same amount I should think. The big difference is the five or six bags we produce in two weeks of plastic and cardboard, which is entirely packaging from articles bought in supermarkets. I'd still be perfectly happy to buy my fruit and veg "loose" in brown paper bags and bring it home in a shopping bag with leather handles and a nice tartan fabric. If the world is drowning under rubbish don't blame me, pal.
I have never been a ‘joiner’.
I refused categorically to join the Brownies, It was not open for discussion. I did not want to wear brown and sit in a dank wooden hut being bossed around.
In her attempts to socialise me my mother somehow got me to join a swimming club AND a ballet class in one of my weak moments. I was not happy. Dreading the afternoons where instead of going home and eating biscuits in front of cartoons I would be dragged off to yet more damp halls and have to change into more outfits.
I arrived at my first session of ballet expecting to be presented with a beautiful pearl encrusted bodice and tutu with shimmering satin point shoes. This was my biggest incentive to join. Instead I was given a pale blue, lycra-free leotard and disappointing looking, pitta bread shoes with elastic across the front. We sat in circles doing the ‘good toes naughty toes exercise’ for what felt like six months.
There was one solitary boy in our class. The poor bugger. I remember him looking like a Romanian orphan all little and frail with a number one cut and a black leotard. Nowadays I would much rather hang out with the boys than the girls but in those days girls were safe and didn’t have clammy hands. Being new and having no allies I was the one who had to dance with the boy. I think I spent the entire length of the hall that we had to prance down pulling away from him as hard as I could with thundering, angry stomps.
At the end of the lesson I pointed out to my mother that I was hugely unsatisfied; No fancy costume fit for the Nutcracker (regardless of whether I could actually even do ‘good toes’ yet), no fancy shoes. At the end of one long hour, I was not able to get my leg up as high as my head; I was not clonking around on point doing pliés, développés, grand fouetté en tournant, dégagés, grand rond de jambe, rond de jambe en l'air, coupés, battements tendus, attitudes, arabesques, and all types of pirouettes. Being subjected to the humiliation ‘clammy hands’ as my partner took the absolute biscuit (which he smelt of).
I informed my mother that I would be resigning herewith reasoning that I now wanted to concentrate my efforts on swimming.
Two weeks later I informed my mother that I would be resigning herewith from swimming because I wanted to concentrate on being alone and avoiding ‘joining in.’
It continued throughout primary school. I waged a war against ‘country dancing’. I trained a renegade band of girls not to join. We would continue to play ‘off ground touch’ and stealing the boy’s footballs and then kicking them in the shins in preference.
Little by little my gang shrunk. Each week another member slunk off to wear the apricot skirt of the ‘dancers’ until one day it was me, sat alone in the playground, not dancing and not kicking boys.
So I joined.
I hated to admit it, I loved it.
Naturally I had to bring a little of rebellion to it though and when we went ‘on tour’ to the school down the road I managed to start a country dancing riot against the girls who wore lilac skirts.
Why do some kids resist ‘joining in’ with such fervour whilst others happily accept every new membership to club and lesson?
I am still exactly as I was at 6 years old. I joined a running club last year and quit after a few months because I couldn’t see the point of waiting around all day to go running with a bunch of strangers making small talk when I could go running on my own whenever I felt like it, in silence and think hateful, angry thoughts to help me get up the tough hills and stop to stroke horses in fields and flirtatious cats if I so desired.
I cannot bear having some ‘thing’ looming at the end of my day that I must do, even if in theory I quite like what I will be doing. It ruins all the idle hours before, taints them with a countdown to the ‘activity’ and gives me time to build up dread.
So I want to know chaps, who is a joiner and who is an avoider?
#AbFav_PHOTOSTORY
#AbFav_The_COLOUR_PINK_🎆
We had the pregnant mum in the studio first, then dad came with this little angelic tearaway...
To distract this little dolly, I got out this colourful Parrot, a prop we've had for years, you say something and the parrot repeats it 3 times, imitating whatever sound you made, or whatever you said... you can make it bark, miauw, moo...
We've had a lot of fun and laughter out of the silly thing...
However the girl was fascinated, it kept her busy for a while, while the parents were getting ready for the portrait session.
The studio was set before they came, she was totally spellbound by the parrot...so, bang, I got her!
I had to sphotograph her as she came, as not long ago she discovered the joy of running... she loved the studio, tripped over cables, got entangled in the bg, refused to sit, hihi, let alone pose?
She had a lot of fun, at the end of the session... I WAS KNACKERED,
But, I had the shots!
AAhh the joys of being a photographer... lol, thanks, M, (*_*)
For more: www.indigo2photography.com
Please do not use any of my images on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
portrait, girl, pink, toddler, blond, curls, big-eyes, doll, parrot, toy, studio, white-background, colour, horizontal, "Magda indigo"
Pomona, CA
4/23/26
Before I went to Truck Adventures in Arcadia, I went to US Auctions to see some Refuse trucks before being auctioned off. There were 3 Ex Riverside trucks consisting of 2 Volvos and a Peterbilt Rapid Rail. There was also a single axle Ex Claremont Volvo Rapid Rail and a Ex Patton State Hospital Pak-Mor Rear Loader. I also found an old Jacks Disposal storage bin and commercial trashcans.
Thank you US Auctions!
Youtube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RifQDrEywA
East-German postcard VEB Progress Film-Vertrieb, Berlin, no. 55/71, 1971. Sophia Loren in The Fall of the Roman Empire (Anthony Mann, 1964).
Sophia Loren (1934) rose to fame in post-war Italy as a voluptuous sex goddess. Soon after, she became one of the most successful stars of the 20th Century, who won an Oscar for her mother role in La ciociara (Vittorio De Sica, 1960).
Sophia Loren was born Sofia Villani Scicolone in the charity ward of a Roman hospital in 1934. She was the illegitimate daughter of construction engineer Riccardo Scicolone and piano teacher and aspiring actress Romilda Villani. Riccardo was married to another woman and refused to marry Romilda, leaving her without support. Romilda, Sofia, and sister Maria returned to Pozzuoli to live with Sofia's grandmother. Pozzuoli was a small town outside Naples and one of the hardest hit during World War II. The family shared a two-room apartment with the grandmother and several aunts and uncles. The shy, stick-thin girl regularly went hungry and had to flee from bombings. At 14, Sofia had a voluptuous figure and entered a beauty contest. She was selected as one of the finalists but did not win. In 1950, she was one of the contestants in the Miss Italia competition. She earned 2nd place and was awarded ‘Miss Eleganza’. While attending the Miss Rome beauty contest, earlier in 1950, she had met judge Carlo Ponti, an up-and-coming film producer, 22 years her senior. Ponti had helped launch Gina Lollobrigida's career and now began grooming Sofia for stardom. He hired an acting coach to tutor her. At 16 she was in her first film, the Totó comedy Le Sei Mogli di Barbablù/Bluebeard’s Six Wives (Carlo Ludovico Bragaglia, 1950) under the name Sofia Lazzaro. She also appeared as an extra in Luci del varietà/Lights of the Variety (Federico Fellini, 1950), the smash hit Anna (Alberto Lattuada, 1951), and Quo Vadis (Mervyn Leroy, 1951). During the early 1950s, she secured work modelling for fumetti magazines. These comic-like magazines used actual photographs. The dialogue bubbles were called 'fumetti' - hence the popular name. At 17, she was cast by Ponti in her first larger role as the commoner who caught the prince's eye in the filmed opera La Favorita/The Favorite (Cesare Barlacchi, 1952). The next year she earned third billing after Silvana Pampanini and Eleanora Rossi-Drago in La Tratta Delle Bianche/The White Slave Trade (Luigi Comencini, 1953) and she played, complete with blackface and an Afro, the lead in another filmed opera, Aida (Clemente Fracassi, 1953) by Giuseppe Verdi. Her singing was dubbed by Renata Tebaldi. Ponti eventually changed her name to Sophia Loren.
Sophia Loren appeared for the first time with Marcello Mastroianni in the romantic comedy Peccato che sia una canaglia/Too Bad She's Bad (Alessandro Blasetti, 1954). They would make 13 films together, including Tempi nostri/A Slice of Life (Alessandro Blasetti, Paul Paviot, 1954), La bella mugnaia/The Miller's Wife (Mario Camerini, 1955), and La fortuna di essere donna/What A Woman (Alessandro Blasetti, 1956). L'Oro di Napoli/Gold of Naples (Vittorio de Sica, 1954), an anthology of tales depicting various aspects of Neapolitan life, was distributed internationally. At AllMovie, Jason Ankeny writes that in reviews "Loren was singled out for the strength of her performance as a Neapolitan shopkeeper, surprising many critics who had dismissed her as merely another bombshell". The film established her persona as a sensuous working-class earth mother. It also began a fruitful, career-long collaboration with De Sica. Sophia’s first film to find international success was La Donna del Fiume/The River Girl (Mario Soldati, 1955), in which she danced sensually the Mambo Bacan. Hal Erickson at AllMovie: "Through it all, Sophia Loren looks like a million lire - and she even gets to sing and dance!". She came to the attention of Stanley Kramer who offered her the female lead in The Pride And The Passion (Stanley Kramer, 1957) opposite Cary Grant and Frank Sinatra. Sophia played a Spanish peasant girl involved in an uprising against the French. This was the turning point in her career, and the film proved to be one of the top US box office successes of the year. Her next English-language film was Boy on a Dolphin (Jean Negulesco, 1957) with Alan Ladd, where she was memorable mostly for emerging from the water in a wet, skin-tight, transparent dress. With her va-va-va-voom image, she became an international film star and got a five-picture contract with Paramount Pictures. Among her Paramount films were Desire Under the Elms (Delbert Mann, 1958) with Anthony Perkins and based upon the Eugene O'Neill play, Houseboat (Melville Shavelson, 1958), a romantic comedy co-starring Cary Grant, and the Western Heller in Pink Tights (George Cukor, 1960) in which she appeared for the first time with blonde hair (a wig). Most of these films were received lukewarmly at best.
In 1960 Sophia Loren returned to Italy to star in the biggest success of her career, La Ciociara/Two Women (Vittorio De Sica, 1960). She played a widow desperately trying to protect her daughter from danger during WW II, only to end up in a destructive love triangle with a young radical (Jean-Paul Belmondo). Hal Erickson at AllMovie: "A last-minute replacement for Anna Magnani, Sophia Loren brought hitherto untapped depths of emotion to her performance in Two Women; she later stated that she was utilizing 'sensory recall,' dredging up memories of her own wartime experiences." Loren won the Best Actress Oscar for her performance, and also the Cannes, Venice ánd Berlin Film Festivals' best performance prizes. Next, she played in Spain Samuel Bronston's epic production of El Cid (Anthony Mann, 1961) with Charlton Heston, followed by the De Sica episode of the anthology Boccaccio '70 (Vittorio De Sica, Federico Fellini, Luchino Visconti, 1962). On the strength of her Oscar win, she also returned to English-language fare with Five Miles to Midnight (Anatole Litvak, 1963), followed a year later by The Fall of the Roman Empire (Anthony Mann, 1964), for which she received $1 million. Among Loren's other films of this period are The Millionairess (Anthony Asquith, 1960) with Peter Sellers, It Started in Naples (Melville Shavelson, 1960) with Clark Gable, Lady L (Peter Ustinov, 1965) with Paul Newman, Arabesque (Stanley Donen, 1966) with Gregory Peck, and Charlie Chaplin's final film, A Countess from Hong Kong (1967) with Marlon Brando. Despite the failure of many of her films to generate sales at the box office, she invariably turned in a charming performance and she wore some of the most lavish costumes ever created for the cinema. Her best Italian films include the triptych Ieri, oggi, domani/Yesterday, Today And Tomorrow (Vittorio De Sica, 1963), a comedy that poked fun at a Catholic priest and gently mocked the Italian law on birth control, and Matrimonio all' Italiana/Marriage Italian Style (Vittorio De Sica, 1964) with Loren as the hooker who lures Mastroianni into marriage.
After several miscarriages and a highly-publicized struggle to become pregnant, Sophia Loren gave birth to her son Hubert Leoni Carlo Ponti in 1968. She started to work less and moved into her 40s and 50s with roles in films like De Sica's war drama I Girasoli/The Sunflowers (Vittorio De Sica, 1972), Il Viaggio/The Voyage (Vittorio De Sica, 1974) opposite Richard Burton, and reuniting with Marcello Mastroianni in the mob comedy La Pupa del Gangster/Get Rita (Giorgio Capitani, 1975). An artistic highlight was Una giornata particolare/A Special Day (Ettore Scola, 1977) which earned a Golden Globe for Best Foreign Film. Loren played a bored housewife on the day of the first meeting between Mussolini and Hitler. Left alone in her tenement home when her fascist husband runs off to attend the historic event, Loren strikes up a friendship with her homosexual neighbour (Marcello Mastroianni). As the day segues into night, Loren and Mastroianni develop a very special relationship that will radically alter both of their outlooks on life. When a dubbed version of Una giornata particolare/A Special Day found favour with American audiences, Hollywood again came calling, resulting in a pair of thrillers, The Brass Target (John Hough, 1978) and Firepower (Michael Winner, 1979) which offered her a central role as a widow seeking answers in the murder of her chemist husband. In 1980, Loren portrayed herself, as well as her mother, in Sophia Loren: Her Own Story (Mel Stuart, 1980), a made-for-television biopic adaptation of her autobiography. Actresses Ritza Brown and Chiara Ferrari played Loren at younger ages. She made headlines in 1982 when she served an 18-day prison sentence in Italy on tax evasion charges, a fact that didn't damage her career or popularity. In her 60s, Loren ventured into various areas of business, including cookbooks, eyewear, jewellery, and perfume. In honour of her lengthy career, Loren was the recipient of a special Oscar in 1991. She also made well-received appearances in her final film with Mastroianni, Prêt-à-Porter/Ready to Wear (1994), Robert Altman's take on the French fashion scene, and in the comedy hit Grumpier Old Men (Howard Deutch, 1995) playing a femme fatale opposite Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon. In 1995 she received the Golden Globe Cecil B. DeMille Award. At the age of 72, she appeared scantily clad in the 2007 edition of the famous calendar of Italian racing tire giant Pirelli. It made her the oldest model in the calendar's history. The photos by Dutch photographers Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin proved that she was still a major international sex symbol. In 2007 Carlo Ponti died. It had been controversial in her native Italy when Sophia Loren had married her mentor Ponti in 1957. Not only was he 45 to her 23, but he had been married previously, and neither the Catholic Church nor the Italian government recognised his Mexican divorce. Ponti was charged with bigamy, but the charges were dropped when they had their marriage annulled. They continued living together - scandalous at the time - and remarried after his legal problems had been cleared. Ponti and Loren made three dozen films together. They had two children, symphony conductor Carlo Ponti Jr. and film director Edoardo Ponti. After four years off the big screen, Sophia Loren co-starred in a film version of the Broadway musical Nine (Rob Marshall, 2009). She played the mother of famous film director Guido Contini, portrayed by Daniel Day-Lewis. According to Jason Ankeny at AllMovie, "Loren proved she still had movie star charisma with a role in Chicago director Rob Marshall's Nine - a lavish tribute to all things Italian." Loren made a two-part television biopic of her early life titled La Mia Casa È Piena di Specchi/My House Is Full of Mirrors (Vittorio Sindoni, 2010), based on of the memoir written by her sister Maria Scicolone. At 80, Sophia Loren returned to the screen in Human Voice (2014) directed by her son Edoardo Ponti. At the presentation at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York, 'the timeless beauty' stunned the press once again when she walked on the red carpet in a chic red pantsuit hand-in-hand with her 41-year-old son to promote the short film. Human Voice is based on the play by iconic French playwright Jean Cocteau and sees La Loren play a woman in her twilight years facing revelations from her past. In late 2014, she also presented her first memoir, Ieri, oggi, domani. La mia vita/Today and Tomorrow: My Life as a Fairy Tale. It includes old pictures, letters, and notes detailing encounters with Cary Grant and other film partners.
Sources: Jason Ankeny (AllMovie), Hal Erickson (AllMovie), Shyam Dodge (Daily Mail), Jenny (IMDb), Wikipedia, NNDB, TCM, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Yep, this is my (left) eye. It really wasn't easy taking this since my new camera (Nikon D5100) refused to AF with my Tamron 90mm macro lens in live view for some reason, so MF it was...doh! Other lenses, including my Sigma 18-200mm work just fine in live view and in normal use i.e. composing using the viewfinder.
NEW: Here's a short HD video clip of the same eye, with the pupil showing slight movement in real time.
My first impressions of the camera are very positive. The resolution is astounding and the performance in low light is quite exceptional. Images taken at ISO 800 with my previous D60 were just about useable but this image was taken at ISO 2000 and the detail remains. The noise level is still 'acceptably' low at ISO 4000 (and slightly above) enabling more 'keepers', which is what this game is all about to me. I was going to upgrade to the D7000 but with the ongoing backfocusing and lens compatibility issues I decided to save £300 and get the D5100 which has the same sensor and low-light performance; exactly what I wanted. It's missing a few tricks but the raw image quality (excuse the pun) at this price point more than makes up for it.
Images on the D5100 LCD screen look fabulous but seem to lack vibrancy on my Vaio X-black laptop LCD, relative to the D60/laptop LCD combination and appear significantly desaturated. I may need to calibrate my screen or investigate colour profile issues. Maybe the screen can't reproduce the colour information the sensor is capable of capturing??? Anyway, a superior (temporary) monitor yielded superior image quality, closer to the original image on the camera; it's just harder to judge the actual colours most people will see now! Does this image seem desaturated or flat?
Apologies for the essay and now I've left it too late to get to your streams tonight but I will do over the weekend!
Online sources describe this little gazebo as the Monastery Chapel of St Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery in the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv. It sits in the monastery's grounds, just north of the main monastery church. I can find no further information about it.
St. Michael’s Golden-Domed Monastery (Ukrainian: Михайлівський золотоверхий монастир, Mykhaylivs’kyi zolotoverkhyi monastyr) is a functioning monastery in the city centre of Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. The monastery is located on the right bank of the Dnieper River on the edge of a bluff northeast of the Saint Sophia Cathedral. The site is located in the historic administrative Uppertown and overlooks the city’s historical commercial and merchant quarter, the Podil neighbourhood.
Originally built in the Middle Ages by Sviatopolk II Iziaslavych (regnat 1050-1113), the monastery comprises the Cathedral itself, the Refectory of St. John the Divine, built in 1713, the Economic Gates, constructed in 1760 and the monastery’s bell tower, which was added c. 1716–1719. The exterior of the structure was rebuilt in the Ukrainian Baroque style in the 18th century while the interior remained in its original Byzantine style. The original cathedral was demolished by the Soviet authorities in the 1930s, but was reconstructed and opened in 1999 following Ukrainian independence in 1991.
During the Mongol invasion in 1240, the monastery is believed to have been seriously damaged. The Mongols damaged the cathedral and removed its gold-plated domes. The cloister subsequently fell into disrepair and there is no documentation of it for the following two and a half centuries. By 1496, the monastery had been revived and its name was changed from St. Demetrius’ Monastery to St. Michael’s. In 1620, Iov Boretsky made it the residence of the renewed Orthodox metropolitan of Kiev, and in 1633, Isaya Kopynsky was named a supervisor of the monastery.
During the first half of the 1930s, various Soviet publications questioned the known historical facts regarding the age of the Cathedral. The publications stressed that the medieval building had undergone major reconstructions and that little of the original Byzantine-style cathedral was preserved. This wave of questioning led to the demolition of the monastery and its replacement with a new administrative centre for the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic (previously located in the city of Kharkiv). Before its demolition (8 June – 9 July 1934), the structure was carefully studied by T.M. Movchanivskyi and K. Honcharev from the recently purged and re-organized Institute of Material Culture of the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences. On the basis of their survey, the cathedral was declared to belong primarily to the Ukrainian Baroque style, rather than to the twelfth century as was previously thought, and thus did not merit preservation due to its lack of historical and artistic value. This conclusion backed up the Soviet authorities' plans to demolish the entire monastery. Local historians, archaeologists, and architects agreed to the monastery's demolition, although reluctantly. Only one professor, Mykola Makarenko, refused to sign the demolition act; he later died in a Soviet prison.
In August 1963, the preserved refectory of the demolished monastery without its Baroque cupola was designated a monument of architecture of the Ukrainian SSR. In 1973, the Kiev City Council established several "archaeological preservation zones" within the city; these included the territory surrounding the monastery.
After Ukraine regained independence in 1991, the demolition of the monastery was deemed a crime and voices started to be heard calling for the monastery's full-scale reconstruction as an important part of the cultural heritage of the Ukrainian people. These plans were approved and carried out in 1997–1998, whereupon the cathedral and belltower were transferred to the Ukrainian Orthodox Church - Kiev Patriarchate. Yuriy Ivakin, the chief archaeologist for the site, said that more than 260 valuable ancient artifacts were recovered during excavations of the site before reconstruction. In addition, a portion of the ancient cathedral, still intact, was uncovered; this today makes up a part of the current cathedral's crypt.
The newly rebuilt St. Michael's Golden-Domed Cathedral was officially opened on 30 May 1999. However, interior decorations, mosaics, and frescoes were not completed until 28 May 2000. The side chapels were consecrated to SS. Barbara and Catherine in 2001. During the following four years, 18 out of 29 mosaics and other objets d'art from the original cathedral were returned from Moscow after years of tedious discussion between Ukrainian and Russian authorities. The remaining frescoes were finally transferred from St Petersburg’s Hermitage in 2009 but placed in a separate preserve.
The St. Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery became the headquarters of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine after the church's creation on 15 December 2018. St. Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery is used as the headquarters of the Metropolitan of Kiev and all Ukraine. The rector of the monastery has the rank of diocesan bishop.
This description incorporates text from the English Wikipedia.
Model Bambi Borg
Hair Ari Koponen
Clothing design Sara Larsson and Kims Vintage
Make up Bambi Flula Borg
Styling Sara Larsson and AOE
©Anna Ósk Erlingsdóttir All rights
Menschen im Ruhrpott, früher war Vokuhila angesagt ;-) heute geht man einfach nicht mehr zum Friseur!
Pentax DA*55/1.4
We won't sleep our lives away,
And today,
We'll make waves in this lake of shit we've made; I refuse to sink.
The revenge upon her would be sweet, even though it was purely theoretical.
She was the very epitome of every stuck up girl who ever passed judgment on those she refused to view as an equal. And I? I possessed the subtle skill to knock her smirking ego down a few pegs.
**********************************************************************
In late spring of the year 1952, a, bank rented safety deposit lockbox, dusty from many years gone by, was opened. The box had laid unclaimed, the banks records having been destroyed during the Nazi blitzes of World War Two. When its existence became known, an attempt was made to contact the owner, whose family surname was well known in the county. The name turned out to be an alias, no such person ever existed.
Please read the account below to learn more about the person who was believed to have rented the strongbox, as well as what he had placed inside……….
**********
Case Study 84 :
Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual facts as originally recorded. Some names, times, places and some facts have been altered for obvious reasons.
Exerted from the private letters of Mr. Harley Q. circa early 1900’s.
Name: Harly Q. circa 19 …
Subject: Seemingly a rather dexterous scoundrel
Place: A large coastal metropolis
Time: A period of time in late autumn
**************
Harly’s story as related:
The following affair occurred during my younger days when my youth and its’ raw passions were still a strong pull on my reactions! Now, how do I start?
The Blonde dancing in front of me was was dressed up like a movie star on a red carpet. Only about nineteen, her slinky gown created the impression of having been poured along her curvy, voluptuous figure, like shimmering liquid satin, fluidly swishing as she swirled about the massive chamber! It all made her appear far older and mature than she obviously thought she was. For some, her looks and personality may have been seen as charming and fun. “But for me personally, the only thing charming about her was the way her abundant sparkling jewellery played with the lights from the large chandeliers which held my upmost command!
But wait, I may be placing the carriage before the steed…….
Allow me to restart:
I had taken a long train into town with the intention of spending a few days relaxing from my previous month of hectic “professional” affairs. Rewarding myself, I located my lodging in a fancy upscale hotel situated across the street from a cavernous Ballroom, checking in for a fortnight. Since my social calendar was unusually light, with only the one high society event, a wedding that I was planning to attend the following Sabbath, at a “chapel” located in one of the cities sprawling suburbs. I spent the first day perusing the cultural calendar of the local papers, and ended up circling one or two events of interest that would be taking place later that month. I than took care of my remaining personal business, locating a reputable bank and renting out one of their lockboxes, before allowing myself some time off from my endeavors.
I than spent the first portion of my week taking in moving picture shows, visiting stores and hanging out at the local museums and antique shoppes. It felt great not worrying about work, although I will did admit that my mind scoped out a few prospects as I was out and about, walking amongst the great masses..
It was mid-week during my stay, while making my way back to the hotel suite, that I decided on a whim to pop into the Ballroom to see what it was all about. I walked into the massive lobby full of activity and wandered about, looking into the massive main ballroom, meeting rooms and various party rooms. As I was leaving I discovered a wall containing posters for all the upcoming events. One poster caught my eye. It advertised the occurrence of a Halloween Ball to take place that very weekend, Tickets still available. The Ball seemed to be the very type of party I was partial to, combining all of my favorite types of affairs, a large gathering frequented by the rich, and everyone attending would be in costume.
Purchasing a pair of tickets (less questions asked) I went out the very next morning scouting various shops in search of my own costume. I finally settled on a highwayman’s attire. It seemed appropriate, and the ribbon style “ masque” over my eyes set off the vacation beard that had been growing quite nicely since my last outing. On my way out to pay for the costume I spied a half off bin. On top of the pile was a phantom of the opera mask. On impulse I added it to my bundle and went to the checkout.
Although I really didn’t have the feeling that this concern would lead to anything, I mean, who wears good jewellery with a costume ? But a little bored by the inactivity, I was none the less growing excited about the venture. I still decided to play it cautious by setting up my usual safe guards, just in case.
A few blocks away from the Ballroom and my hotel suite I found a small chain style motel. Going to the desk I purchased rent for a room for the night, paying in advance. Going into the small room I laid down my purchases and headed back out to the street via a back stairwell, bypassing the registrars chambers. I headed back to my hotel suite to prepare for the evening.
After showering, I changed into a suit, shirt and tie. I then headed out onto the street a couple of hours before the ball was set to begin. Regaining my small quarters in the chain motel I changed into my new persona for the evening’s festivities and left via the same back door I had used earlier. I walked back to the Ballroom, getting my share of looks until I reached my destination, where I blended right in with the other arriving costumed guests.
I followed the stream to the ballroom proper. The main doors leading inside were large, made of a fancy scrolled oak, held open, and guarded by a pair of burly security types.
Apparently which, I soon gathered, was appearing to be the only security present for the evening’s festivities. Capital, I thought, smirking to myself as I joined my fellow guests.
I walk onto a landing, immediately in front of a long bannister guarding a set of wide stairs ascended downwards. I went off to one side, and paused at the railing, starting to survey with eager anticipation, the crowded room below.
All was quite glittering, as large chandeliers set off a spectrum of colors with any crystal or glass it touched. It especially created shimmers as it played off the colorful jewelry the lavishly costumed ladies present were wearing. Several dozen couples were dancing in front of a 17 piece orchestra, a slow dance, and many were dancing almost too close. Many more people were mingling around tables of appetizers. A large, chattering crowd was also gathered at the long oak bar that took up one whole side of the huge room. It was to the bar that I headed, to observe the merry proceedings.
But the Ball, as it turned out, was a bust, so to speak. Although several attempts were made to ask a number of charming (to me) ladies to add me to their dance cards, they all were, unfortunately, full. I should have suspected it would turn out this way, but I still harbored an all too familiar nagging feeling in the back of my head that something was still going to happen, call it intuition if you need to label it. So I nursed my drink, reminiscing about how I had reached this point in my then still young life…..
Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite poets, once said” Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
Long before the the time I discovered this quote I found that my life’s path had already been heading that way.
Without boring anyone with far too many details of my rather complicated youth, I discovered while quite young that I had a certain knack for adeptness at being able to nimbly pick pockets. When I was eighteen ( having graduated high school at seventeen) and out on my own in the world, I found this skill quite useful. But it was at a wedding reception in my early twenties where I became of age, so to speak.
She was older than me, resplendent in a sleek black satin gown with bright white frills, long white satin gloves upon which graced a pair of diamond bracelets. She was very tipsy and would not take no for an answer when asking for a dance partner. She cornered me and before I could catch my wits, we were in a close embrace on the dance floor. I was totally mesmerized by the feel of her warm figure emitting through the sensuous satin gown. My eyes feasted upon the dazzling show put on by her flashy twin bracelets. When the exquisitely long dance ended and she moved on: I was left with a lot of pleasantly mixed feelings, I was also left with my first trophy, the Lady’s appealing necklace of pearl that I had ever so delicately sipped off her throat, using the sleekness of her satin gown to its fullest advantage.
I found myself enthralled with my new “hobby”, and over the course of the next couple of years sought out fancy dress affairs to better learn how to master the art of attracting and dancing with any lady I chose. Along the way I managed to accumulate quite a few trophies for my efforts. I stayed under everyone’s radar by picking out only those females who had been enthusiastically imbibing and by allowing myself to acquire only one trophy per gathering, two if the function was large enough.
During this period I made two discoveries: One was that most women would rather assume their jewel had been merely lost long before ever considering that they had been robbed of it. The second was that most of my collection of pretty trophies carried an equally pretty price, and could quite acceptably be turned into ready cash.
So, by the tender age of twenty two, my life started to lead where there had ever been but few tracks. And thus we finally come to this particular branch of my rather unique, lengthily crooked trail….
So, there I was, on a bar stool, alone and growing more bored by the minute, wishing something interesting would happen. I can remember thinking, as I looked over my fellow partiers about a saying that I had always found to be amusingly true. “If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.” I don’t know who first said it, but brother, the person was right on the money. As I had witnessed for myself time and time again. So I just settled in and watched the amusing antics of the wealthy among the crowd, especially those of …“the girl!’
The girl was a stunning young blonde who was probably just fresh out of high school, with the maturity level of a grade schooler!
I kept catching my eye on her all evening, and once or twice, was sure she caught mine looking. But I was not watching her for the reasons she would think were mine. To her I was just some male face in the crowd, exhibiting his lust. But, the reason my eyes kept traveling upon her was for an entirely different one. I just found nothing to be more annoying than a sulky, immature young whelp who believes she is the apple of everyone’s eye, making an absolute nuisance of herself. She was running around, making silly remarks about people, sometimes to their face. Hanging out with her group of friends whom seemed to be of the same mold as my blonde, one girlfriend was even dressed appropriately enough, as a willowy witch.
The Blonde was dressed up like a movie star on a red carpet. Only about nineteen, her slinky gown created the impression of having been poured along her curvy voluptuous figure, like shimmering liquid satin, fluidly swishing as she bounced about the massive chamber, slipping in and out amongst the guests! It all made her appear far older and mature than she obviously thought she was. For some, her looks and personality may have been seen as charming and fun. “But for me personally, the only thing charming about her was the way her abundant sparkling jewellery played with the lights from the large chandeliers which held my command! But I had decided, as far as I could tell, that she was wearing nothing but cheap rhinestones, which like her, appeared totally fake. But, as they say, appearances can sometimes be deceiving!
This girl was the epitome of every condescending stuck up high society girl that probably everyone has had the misfortune to be the victim of. The girl, who mainly because of her looks, was popular with everyone like her, and had no use for those who, forever what reason they deemed, was ostracized by those of her type. In high school I knew girls like this one, and was a witness, sometime victim, to many a scene of arrogance displayed by girls like her. This one was young, too young to be acting the way she was. Her mannerisms were just a beacon, reaching out out to be taught a lesson.
Wallowing in my boredom, a spark began to kindle into flame deep within my brain. Determined not to let the evening be a total loss, I decided act upon it. My plan being to theoretically get revenge on all those smirking girls who tormented me during high school, by knocking this cocky little scamp down a few pegs, using the best of my abilities..
Now, I’m not one normally to act as judge, jury, and executioner in most situations, in my selected line of work it would be hypocritical. But obviously old wounds’ had been opened, this long haired girl scampering about reminded me of ones whom had ridiculed me, another lifetime, one that I had left behind A long time ago. The opportunity for bittersweet revenge had presented itself for the taking, and the pull to obtain a little solace by using my unique talents was far too great to resist. Talk about mixing pleasure with business I though wickedly to myself, smiling with the inviting thought.
Believe me, this girl would be no innocent victim, and nothing I was about to attempt would leave her with any type of lasting impression, or harm. But if I could cause her at least some considerable discomfort to ruin the rest of her evening out, it would be reward in and of itself! I again eyed her sparkling jewels with all the seriousness I would have given any I was really interested in acquiring. Although she didn’t fit my favorite pre-requisite, she certainly was not drunk on alcohol, she was merely just intoxicated in her own questionable self-esteem, which can work just as well.
I waited until her friends had all apparently deserted her for the evening and leaving her, quite vulnerably, alone. I walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She whirled facing me, her eyes going from happy expectations to a glare! “What do you want!? she snipped disdainfully”. Calmly I held her gaze, “I was hoping you would help me win a bet” I asked in what I hoped was my most wily voice. She was curious, but wary of me, “as you should be my pretty miss”, I remember thinking to myself. Her eyes sized me up and down, and I seized the moment to take in her jewels, not at all disappointed in them, but my curiosity was aroused about her necklace, I definitely needed to get a closer look to appraise them! “Why should I help you,” she practically spitted out he words like daggers.
“It’s this way miss, a couple of boys over at the bar bet me 50 quid that I could not get a dance with the prettiest girl here.” “Me?” she asked primping, no I confessed, I picked you, they had wanted me to dance with someone far less pretty, in my opinion.
I don’t think so; she said with a slight hint of hesitation, my card is full. Just for fifteen minutes I implored. That’s all I need (which was the truth), and Ill split my winnings with you on top of it. She finally bought it, hook line, sinker and pound signs in her adorable violet coloured eyes. Fifteen minutes she specified, before, be-grudgingly, allowing me to lead her to the dance floor.
Now, as I took her stiff body in my arms, I was able to satisfy my curiosity about the girl’s necklace, and it caused a dilemma to rear its thought provoking head. While she was busy looking around to make sure none of her friends saw her dancing with me, I allowed myself a couple of precious minutes to think. Her long rhinestone earrings were clip held, and an easy pick. I wanted to try for them both,( I knew how I would do it), and losing a pair of earrings would send a message that they had not just fallen away. Also, I would be suspected by her, which suited me just fine. However, my dilemma was caused by the vixen’s pretty necklace. While the rest of her plentiful jewels were cheap rhinestones as I had suspected the row of diamonds that rippled blazingly around her throat were in fact, the real McCoy. So, which should I go for? The necklace would be profitable and easy but she may just suspect its clasp had broken. The earrings would be just for a sporty trophy, not worth anything but for the knowledge that she would know she had been a victim. Ah, life’s precious little quandaries!
So, I continued with the dance, my partner still rigid, so very true to her character. Then, with five minutes left, I made up my mind on what she would not be leaving the ball still wearing. She was a charmer, this disdainful one. Her stiff figure was warm to the touch, underneath the scintillating slippery gown. The show her sparkling jewels produced was most pleasing to the eye. All in all quite a pretty portrait, a shame it was that I was not allowed to appreciate it. Which was fine by me! I was able to concentrate freely on the task at hand. I looked around, the coast was still clear. Then eyeing for one last time her mesmerizingly swaying long earrings and the flickering diamonds that graced her pretty little throat, I executed my move..
By the time the final five minutes were up I had the selected jewelry in my pocket without even the slightest notice from my unwilling dance partner. Then, fifteen minutes to the second (good thing I had been keeping track of the time) she broke it off. “Thank you”, I said, to which she mumbled, “my money, sir!” I told her I had to collect it, and would meet her by the ladies powder room. I left her waiting, smiling inwardly to myself at the empty space from which the missing jewelry was glaringly gone from her.
She had no doubt that I would be back with her money, was I not merely like one of her household servants, who routinely, without question or error, existed to do her bidding. It would be a major jolt to her system when she realized I was not coming obediently back to her. I had no doubt she would spend some time searching me out for her money once she realized I was not coming back forthwith, with the intention of lecturing me on how I should act around my betters. So I knew that her immediate attention would be elsewhere upon realizing I was tardy, and that it would take quite a bit of time before she recieved a second shock of an altogether different sort.
I left with my prize, walking past the two guards with such a carefree air that even they would never have suspected that I could possibly have been up to any mischief. I made good time getting back to the dingy motel room. Changed out of my costume and back into the shirt and tie I had worn. The highwayman costume, which had served me well, I rolled in a bundle under my arm, I again left by the back stairwell and retraced my earlier steps, whistling, back to the suite in the hotel. Along the way the costume was stuffed unceremoniously into a handy trash bin. My little operation had been a complete success. The evening was after all, not going to be a total loss.
Back in my suite I stowed the newly acquired jewels the girl had worn into one of my many secret hiding spots. There they would be safe until I could convey it to my banks lockbox on Monday. As I finished I, spied the phantom of the opera mask lying discarded on top of a table. A shame it would not be used….
A thought washed over me that would not be denied! Risky, but it would make my evening complete. I quickly shaved off the thin beard, and restyled my hair. I changed from my suit into my tux and tails. Scooping up the phantom mask I headed back to the costume ball. Placing the mask on before entering, I presented my second ticket( not very often did the opportunity arise to use both of the pair of tickets I customarily purchased!) I walked past the two security types without a second glance from them, they absolutely did not recognize me, which meant I had passed that test. My objective now was to try and catch the second half of the show; namely the shimmering liquid satin gowned brats squawking reaction when she first discovered her jewels were gone.
I regained a bar seat just in time.
She did not disappoint!
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Epilogue
When, in the presence of both bank and county officials, the strong box was opened, it was found to contain a fairly large collection of the Kings currency, equaling roughly £500 , and a selection unmatched jewelry, rings, single earrings, bracelets, and necklaces, worth a almost £3.000. Also inside was small a bundle of papers. The papers, old and yellowed, appeared to contain the partial handwritten journals of a certain Mr. Harly Q___ , esq. The papers were examined, but gave no clues to who Harley was, or to his current whereabouts. But the journals presented clues as to Harly’s nature, and as a consequence the money and jewels were considered stolen goods and handed over to the authorities. No one knows what became of them, as for the papers, they were handed over to a relative of one of the government officials, and also, for a period of time, lost.
The journal was rediscovered amongst the personal files of the late Professor Sedwig Dermitt phd, llc.a dex,
Recovered, restored, and now kept in the human behavioral archives of the criminology dept, Chatwick U.
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Despite a big clearout and refurbishment of the A.R.N. yard, this little corner of oldies hangs on in there!
Donald Trump opened a Pandora’s Box when he and the Republican Party politicized the coronavirus. When he called it the “Kung Flu” and the “Wuhan Virus,” racists attacked Asian-Americans. As a new virus, we have no natural immunity. But Trump refused to heed the warnings to social distance and wear masks, playing down the severity of the disease for political gain. Instead, he promoted fake cures and dismissed science experts. His acolytes followed suit. Rather than follow the science, right-wing charlatans continue to tout fake COVID cures. Only recently has Trump promoted vaccines and boosters (in part to separate himself from potential presidential rivals like Ron DeSantis). Other GOP lawmakers have privately protected themselves while publicly refusing to convey the importance of being immunized. And over 800,000 Americans have died.
People reacted with anger and pseudo-science theories when President Biden first appealed to Americans to “get the shot.” Incentives encouraged vaccinations. While these motivated some, it was much less than needed to reach herd immunity. With vaccination rates lagging, President Biden forced the issue with mandates for businesses with over 100 employees. And now conservatives on the Supreme Court have overruled those.
Adam Galinsky, a professor of leadership and ethics at Columbia Business School, recently wrote about the “psychology of regret” and its effect on vaccine hesitancy. “Alongside skepticism of institutions and experts, exposure to misinformation, and other often-cited reasons for resisting vaccines sits a clear emotional explanation: Many people are afraid that they’ll make a bad decision.” Fear can cause people to hesitate, no matter what the incentives might be. It may not seem rational, but many put more weight on the negative ramifications of their decisions than on any potential positive outcomes. They assign their actions greater importance than the consequences of not acting.
Ironically, this sense of regret explains why mandates have been so successful. When Biden first announced these mandates, the largest police union in New York City went to court to block them. They said they would lose thousands of officers who would quit rather than get inoculated. In reality, only three dozen officers ended up refusing. United Airlines instituted its mandate, and 99% of its workforce is vaccinated. This week they reported no deaths due to COVID. Mandates take the decision-making out of the individual’s hands. With the fear of making a wrong decision eliminated, most get vaccinated.
One of the most inane and insensitive protests over these requirements comes from those who show their opposition by wearing yellow Stars of David. Nazis required Jews to wear these stars with the word “Jude” at all times. Today’s protesters liken vaccine mandates to the persecution of Jews during World War II. They equate vaccination requirements with being sent to the gas chamber. At least, they say, it’s a slippery slope. They wear these stars as badges of resistance. However, Nazis forced Jews to wear them as signs of exclusion and disdain, signifying they were less than human. This false equivalent insults all Jews and their families who suffered during the Holocaust.
In June 2021, Jim Walsh, a Republican Washington State Representative, posted a video on Facebook showing him speaking to a group of conservatives while wearing the star. Posting on the social media platform, he said, “It’s an echo from history. In the current context, we’re all Jews.” We’re all Jews? During the Charlottesville protests, neo-Nazi’s chanted, “Jews will not replace us.” Now people are using the symbols of our annihilation to protest vaccine mandates. We’re tired of being used as scapegoats by neo-Nazis and examples of persecution by anti-vaxxers.
On November 14, 2021, anti-mandate protesters displayed the swastika and the yellow star in front of the offices of New York State Assemblyman Jeffrey Dinowitz, who is Jewish. Dinowitz has been a vigorous proponent of mandates. The crowd gathered to protest Dinowitz’s bill, requiring all students be immunized against COVID in order to attend school. Republican gubernatorial candidate, Rob Astorino, organized the rally. Assemblyman Dinowitz stated, “People are free to express their opinions on vaccine policy and on any issue, but I draw the line at swastikas. [T]o stand next to swastikas and yellow Stars of David outside of a Jewish legislator’s office shows a lack of integrity at best and an embrace of right-wing extremism at worst.”
In a hearing by the Kansas Special Committee on Government Overreach and the Impact of COVID-19 Mandates, former Kansas City, Kansas mayoral candidate Daran Duffy, explained why he and his family were wearing these stars. “The reason I’m wearing the star is not to be offensive, but it’s to remember, and for everybody else to call to remembrance World War II. The Jewish people were forced to wear a yellow star to identify them as Jews. And they were ushered off to the death camps in accordance with that. There were medical tests; there were experimentations done on human people. And while this hasn’t reached that deprivation, we are definitely moving in that direction.” Despite his sincerity, he is oblivious to the insensitivity of his protest.
And, just this week, Ohio Republican Congressman Warren Davidson likened vaccine mandates to Nazi atrocities by tweeting a photo of a Nazi Gesuntheitspaß (health passport) with the text, “It’s been done before. #DoNotComply” He went on to say, “Let’s recall that the Nazis dehumanized Jewish people before segregating them, segregated them before imprisoning them, imprisoned them before enslaving them, and enslaved them before massacring them.”
People receiving COVID shots are not part of an experiment. The actions of Nazi doctor Josef Mengele, who conducted sadistic medical procedures on Auschwitz children, are a far cry from the science behind these vaccines. For over two decades, researchers have been studying mRNA, the foundation of both the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines. Scientists conducted vigorous trials involving thousands of volunteers before their release. No one forced people to enroll in these trials. It was an altruistic choice meant to help others.
Mandates do not force people to get the vaccine. They have a choice. Yes, it’s a serious one. Their lives and their livelihoods may depend on what choice they make. And there are serious consequences for refusal, like losing one’s job. Without the vaccine, they may suffer a horrible death or lifelong after-effects. Even if you survive on a ventilator in the ICU, your life may never be the same. The coronavirus is and will continue to be a public health hazard.
Our personal decisions affect the people around us. Children and the immunocompromised are at risk. Many of these “hesitants” are ardent supporters of “American Exceptionalism,” believing that God has bestowed special blessings on our country and its people. But there is nothing exceptional about this selfishness.
The exploitation of the Star of David is part of the conflict over racial identity politics. Many Whites are afraid of being marginalized. And the GOP creates false wedge issues that stoke this fear as a way of igniting voters’ outrage. They’ve been employing this tactic for decades. So why is everyone outraged? Because the GOP wants us to be outraged. Because their hold on power depends on it.
Since this pandemic began, we have lived in a world without reason. American society has devolved into a culture where many equate vaccine mandates with Nazi atrocities. Critical thinking is often missing. Jewish identity is just one tangent of racial injustice. White racists often invoke Jew’s supposed political and financial power for their hatred. We can often pass for “white-white.” But we’re really “off-white.” When White racial fears abound, Jews are targeted.
Fear of losing control fuels opposition to vaccine mandates. But anti-vaxxers are not innocent victims of a frightening mob with an irrational agenda. COVID is a dire public health issue. And resistance to vaccines, mandates, and fear of make-believe persecution does not make them martyrs.
One may object to mandates, but don’t use symbols of real suffering to do so. Signs of our persecution are not yours to appropriate whenever you see fit. It feigns solidarity with Jews. But, in reality, these protesters are using us. Until you see your family marched off to the death camps, never to see them again, stop using the Star of David to compare your fears and outrage to the extermination of European Jewry. You don’t know what real suffering is. Stop living your lives as if you do.
Feel free to pass this poster on. It's free to download here (click on the down arrow just to the lower right of the image).
See the rest of the posters from the Chamomile Tea Party! Digital high res downloads are free here (click the down arrow on the lower right side of the image). Other options are available. And join our Facebook group.
Follow the history of our country's political intransigence from 2010-2020 through a seven-part exhibit of these posters on Google Arts & Culture.
To this day, the truck still retains it's original Heil demo paint scheme and original warning decals.
Chassis: American LaFrance CTC
Body: Heil Formula 7000
Hauler: Granger Public Works
Location: Granger, WA
Date: October 2016
See Video of This Truck on YouTube!
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.