View allAll Photos Tagged Refuse
Commentary.
Biddenden is a splendid village in the Kentish Weald,
five miles north of Tenterden.
Like many Wealden villages in Medieval times, it was renowned for smelting iron from the local sandstone.
A head of water would fall from a dammed lake, called a “Hammer Pond,” to produce the power to operate the machinery.
It boasts the imposing landmark of All Saints Parish Church,
mostly 13th. century, although there was almost certainly a
church in the village from Saxon times.
Flemish clothworkers specialised in weaving “broadcloth” and the wealth derived explains the generous scale of the church and the large number of fine Tudor, Georgian and Regency houses in a relatively small village.
The village is renowned for the birth of conjoined twins, Mary and Eliza Chulkhurst in 1100.
Sadly, Mary died at 34. The story goes that Doctors planned to separate Eliza.
However, she refused saying, “as we came together, we will go together.”
With that, she also died just 6 hours after her twin sister.
In their wills they left about 20 acres of land to the local church.
They wanted the money raised from the land each year to be spent on distributing bread, cheese and beer to the poor in the area, every Easter.
This wish has been carried out ever since, a happy consequence from a tragic and legendary story.
It takes 2 days driving in an all wheel drive from Nairobi to arrive in Loiyangalani on the Turkana lake shores… you have never heard about this place? And yet it’s here that they filmed « The Constant Gardener » with Ralph Fiennes.
The Lake Turkana region presents a lunar landscape, somewhat desert, covered in black volcanic rocks. It’s an extremely inhospitable environment for humans and their livestock. There is no potable water and limited pastures. The rainfall averages is less than 6 inches a year. During the day the high temperatures (up to 45°C) are come with strong winds (up to 11 meters per second), pushing dust. But it’s just a magical place on earth !
No human should be able to live in these conditions and yet 250,000 Turkana people are living here. Their territory extends to northern Kenya around Lake Turkana, and on the boundaries with south Sudan and Ethiopia. In 1975, the lake (400 km long, 60 large) was named after them.
Herders Above All Else : The importance of livestock
They are a traditionally pastoralist tribe, moving their livestock (goats, sheep, camels, cattle, and donkeys) and their homes to search water for their animals. Turkana have not been affected by western civilization yet and live in a very traditional way. The number of animals and the diversity of the herd are closely linked to a family’s status in the community. The herds are their bank account.
They depend on the rain to provide grazing for their animals, and on their animals for milk and meat. Because water is so hard to find in the area, they often fight with other tribes like Dassanech. Their main concerns are land and how to win it or to keep it!
The Turkana place such a high value on cattle that they often raid other tribes to steal animals. These razzias have become more dangerous as they now use guns. As the Turkana are one of the most courageous groups of warriors in Africa, fights are serious!
After a raid, the robbers ask some friends from neighboring villages to keep some cows. Their herd is scattered between several places to reduce the risk of being stolen the whole.
The Turkana choose their good friends as neightbors more so than people they share kinship ties with. The clans (ekitela), 28 in number, no longer have a social function. Each clan owns water wells dug in the dried river beds. Unless an explicit request is made, the community can deny water to those passing by.
Even today, the Turkana never kill their livestock to sell their meat. They only kill for celebrations. The Turkana need their animals since they use them as currency in marriage or various social transactions. If a man loses his livestock to drought, he is not only impoverished but shamed. In these cases, NGOs often help get him back on his feet but he can’t reclaim his pride until he has reestablished his herd.
The animals are given very poetic names which the owners often take on as well. It’s common to call a good friend the name of his favorite bull. The Turkana even write songs for their favorite animals. Once a young man has selected his favorite bull, he shapes its horns into bizarre forms to make it stand out. Many tribes use to do this in the area.
The Fish is Taboo for the Herdsmen
Turkana people traditionally do not fish and do not eat fish. But during the droughts, Turkana people are encouraged to fish to get some food. Fishing has been regarded as something of a taboo, a practice reserved for the very poorest in Turkana society.
Social Structure
The Turkana are organized into generational classes. All males go through three life stages (child, warrior, and elder).
To become a man, the turkana teen must go through a ceremony where he will have to kill an animal with a spear, but he must kill it in one throw! Once done, the old men will open the stomach of the animal and put the content on the body of the new adult. It is the way they bless him.
For women, the process is different. They become adult when they reach puberty. Unlike many other tribes in Kenya, the Turkana do not practice FGM and circumcision.
The Turkana live in small households. Inside live of a man, his wives !as he can marry more than one), their children and sometimes some dependent old people. The house is called « awi ». It is built with wood, animal skin, and doum palm leaves. Only the women build the houses!
Herding is a family affair. The father assigns various tasks to his children depending on their age. It’s common to see kids walking long distances with the cattle. Later they will take care of sheep and goats. The girls carry water and collect wood.
Newborns receive their names in a unique way. They take the name of a parent who has huge prestige and add the name of the most beautiful animal in the herd.
Parents learn very early to the kids the taboos: you must not lie, be coward, steal, neglect elders…
Turkana have their own justice and the revenge system is working well: if a crime is committed, the family of the victim will try to kill the murderer or someone from its close family. They also can steal to the suspect a large amount of cattle. Usually, the elders try to make a reconciliation ceremony. It is an never ending story as the family will also want to make a vandetta of the vendetta !
If the homicide was an accident, it can be solved by giving a daughter in marriage.
Marriage
When a man wants to marry a girl, he must ask his own parents if they agree. His mother will have to check if the girl he wants is a good worker! The blood relationship between the families is forbidden, so the elders will check the family links before any agreement.
The man must pay the bride parents (30 cattle, 30 camels and 100 small stock minimum, sometimes a gun is added). It means that a man cannot marry until he has inherited livestock from his dead father. It also means that he collects livestock from relatives and friends. This strengthens social ties.
Daily life
Cattle dungs are used as fuel to cook the food, the urine is used as soap for washing when chemical soap is not available. I saw people using the urine to wash the milk containers, so I always refused to drink milk!
Camels are used for transportation of goods and are well adapted to the very arid climate of Turkana and the lack of water. They are also used in transactions for weddings, or economics deals.
Donkeys have a special status in Turkana tribe: the people do not drink its milk. They use them to carry their houses when they move or weak people with a special wood saddle. But even if donkeys are very useful, they are mocked by the turkana people. Donkey meat is eaten only in the Turkana, where it is savored as a delicacy while others tribe hate it!
They like chewing tobacco and often walk around with a chewed up ball of it on their ear. They also like snorting powdered tobacco.
Danses and songs are important in the social life. Dances allow the people to meet and to flirt. Circle dances are are performed by group of young unmarried girls. The men and young girls join hands and the circles move around. The men may then jump into the centre of the circle raising their arms to imitate the cow horns.
Spirituality, Superstitions, Beliefs
In 1960, a famine started in Turkana area, and so the « Africa Inland Mission » established a food-distribution centre in Lokori, bringing also christianity. But conversion did not meet a huge success (5 % may be converted) as Turkana are nomadics and still have strong believes in their own god. Some Turkana elders even told me :
« I wear a christian cross around my neck and go to the church to get an access to the help provided by the the missionaries for food and clothes! »
The majority of the Turkana still follow their traditional religion. There's one supreme God called Akuj, who is associated with the sky. If God is happy, he will give rain. But if he is angry with the people, he will punish them. In the old believings, giraffes were supposed to tickle the clouds with their high heads, and make the rain come !
Four million years ago, the Lake Turkana bassin may have been the cradle of mankind. You can spot some very nice engraving sites showing a mixture of giraffes and geometrics patterns made around 2000 years ago close to the lake.
Deviners, called the « emuron » are able to interpret or predict Akuj's plans through their dreams, or through sacrificed animal's intestines, tobacco, and through the tossing of …sandals ! Sandals are very important for the oracle. He blesses the sandals by spitting on them. He throws them up into the air and gives a meaning to the patterns they create when they fall on the ground.
When someone dies, the Turkana only hold funerals and burry the body. In the old times, people were were not given a burial, but were abandoned to hyenas.
As I was taking pictures of an old Turkana lady, after 3 pictures, she asked me to stop, and started to shout : « You’re sucking my blood, you make me feel weak » and she left. I was explained by a young boy that the old people believe that pictures are taking their blood away.
Medecine
Scarifications on the belly are made by traditional doctors to cure ill people: it is a way to put out the illness from the body. Scarification is practiced for aesthetic reasons too. Scars are a sign of beauty or to show how many people he has killed, if he is a man.
The skin is cut with an acacia or a sharp razor blade that may be shared by the people and bring diseases.
Turkana believe that a person who experienced illness and recovered from it can treat someone else who’s suffering from the same illness. This means that everybody can be a doctor ! If this does not work, they say that the animal slaughtered was the wrong one.
A good Turkana tip : if you suffer from a severe headache, you just have to take out the brain from a living animal, like a goat, and put it on your head !
Or, another solution : to lift a sheep over the patient, to cut the throat so that the blood strickles on the patient’s head.
The Turkana have the highest instance in the world of echinoccocus (7%) due to their proximity with dogs, who live and defecate everywhere. The dogs lick up blood and vomit and the women use the dog’s excrement as a lubricant for the necklaces that touch their neck.
This parasite has three hosts : sheep, dogs, and humans. In Turkana, these three species live very close, surrounded by little else in the vast desert, ideal conditions for the proliferation of the parasite. The diease causes huge cysts that can be removed by surgery. The locals believe that this "disease of the large belly" is due to a spell cast by the neighboring enemy tribe: the Toposa.
Beauty
Turkana girls and women love to adorn themselves with a lot of necklaces. Beads can be made of glass, seeds, cowry shells, or iron. They never remove them! This can only happen when they are ill or during a mourning time. It means they sleep with those huge necklaces… A married Turkana woman will also wear a plain metal ring around the neck. This is a kind of wedding ring (alagama). A Turkana man will do all he can to make sure that his women folk are dressed in beads of class. Even if some are not able to take their girls to school, they will still ensure that they have beads. By the quantity and style of jewelry a woman wears, you can guess her social status.
Beads colors have specific meaning. Yellow and red beads are given to girl by a man when they are fiancé. If a woman wears only white beads, it means she is a widow. Little girls wear few beads, usually given to them by their mothers, but the older ladies and women wear many, which are in sets rows.
A woman who cannot move her neck is envied! The big necklaces are heavy, like 5 kilos.
A woman without beads is bad, men will ignore her. « You look like an animal without beads! »
Young children only wear a simple strand of pearls. Adolescents wear small articles of clothing to cover their sex. These articles are often decorated with mulitcolored pearls or ostrich egg shells. They wear more and longer clothing as they approach puberty.
NakaparaparaI are the famous ear ornaments. They are made by the men of the tribe in aluminium most of the time and look like a leaf.
Men love to make an elaborate mudpack coiffures called emedot. It is a kind of chignon: the hairstyle takes the shape of a large bun of hair at the back of the head. They decorate it with ostrich feathers to show they are elders or warriors. 2 ostrich feathers costs 1 goat.
Men use a wood pillow (ekicolong) to sleep on it and protect the bun. It can last 2 months and must be rebuild after.
Tattooing is also common and usually has special meaning. Men are tattooed on the shoulders and upper arm each time they kill an enemy — the right shoulder for killing a man, the left for a women.
Lower incisors are removed in childhood, with a tool called « corogat », a finger hook. The origin of this practice was against tetanus, as people are lock-jawed, so they can feed them with milk through the hole. It is also a way to force the teeth at the top to stand out and not interfere with the labret many put on the lower lip. The is useful to spit through the gap of the teeth, without even opening the mouth. The Turkana enjoyed to have labrets, but nowadays, only the elders can be seen with on. They used to put an ivory lip plug, then a wood one, and for some years, they use a lip plug made of copper or even with plaited electric wires.The hole between the lower lip and chin is pierced using a thorn.
The finger hook is also used as a weapon, for gouging out an ennemy’s eye !
Hygiene
Since water is so rare, it’s used only for drinking, never for washing. The Turkana clean themselves by rubbing fat all over their skin.
Turkana women put grease paint on their bodies which is made from mixing animal fat with red ochre and the leaves of a tree to have nice perfume. They say it is good for the skin and it protects from the insects.
Women also put animal fat all around their neck and also on their huge necklaces to prevent from skin irritation.
They also use dog shit as a medicine and lubrificant for their neck.
Both men and women use the branch of a tree called esekon to clean their teeth. You can see them using it all day long…The Turkana people have the cleanest bill of dental health in the country.
For long, Turkana people did not use latrines because it is a taboo for men and women to share same facilities like a latrine. Campaigns have now been initiated to sensitize people on the importance of using latrines for hygiene.
Animal fat is considered to have medicinal qualities, and the fat-tailed sheep is often referred to as "the pharmacy for the Turkana. »... when they do not grill it to eat it!
Futur
Recently, oil has been found on their territory… many fear Turkanas people may loose their traditions, but the Turkana succeeded in maintaining their way of life for centuries. Against all odds they manage to raise livestock in the confines of the desert. Their knowledge allows them to live where most humans could not.
The recent discovery of massive groundwater reserves in the ground (3 billion cubic meters, nearly three times the water use in New York City) could allow them to keep their traditions for a long time.
© Eric Lafforgue
Cedar City, UT
12/27/16
After finding John in the M&C Sanitation Pendpac (www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwGwRkkIpIM&t=1251s), I headed to Cedar City’s residential route in search for the Peterbilt Wayne Curbtender G4. In July I was informed Cedar City recently bought a Peterbilt Curbtender that was not in service that day. I later found the Peterbilt Curbtender at the Peterbilt dealership in St. George (pictures posted on Flickr). I found the Curbtender on route 2 days after Christmas so there were many carts out and most were full. I was curious how the grippers would work with the ice cold carts. The grippers were successful at grabbing the cold carts, it’s hard to see but some carts even had icicles on the cart handles but none of the carts ever fell in the hopper. There were many Reuters on this specific route which was great to see, along with the mountain scenery covered in snow.
If you are a fan of Condor Wayne Curbtenders then I highly recommend the Cedar City area. Cedar City has 2, Iron County has at least 1, City of Enoch has 1 and even the landfill has a Condor Curbtender. Mosdell Sanitation also has a Peterbilt and CCC Curbtender.
Thank you to the Cedar City drivers, it cannot be easy driving in snow but you guys made it look easy.
Surveyors
returned repeatedly,
certain
that their calculations
contained an error.
The path
never altered
its length.
Yet no two people
required
the same amount
of themselves
to cross it.
Some reached
the other end
still carrying
the morning
they had brought.
Others arrived
having misplaced
entire versions
of their lives,
though nothing
had been taken.
The gravel
remembered
every footstep,
but never
who had made it.
Trees
leaned over the silence
without offering
direction.
Even the wind
avoided
giving advice.
The place
had developed
an unusual courtesy.
It refused
to decide
who anyone
should become.
It merely delayed
the certainty
long enough
for unnecessary identities
to grow tired
of accompanying them.
Years later,
maps still recorded
the same distance.
Only those
who had walked there
insisted
that the true journey
had never been
between two points.
It had always been
between
the person
who began walking
and the one
who quietly stopped
trying to arrive.
You know it's hot if the rabbit refuses to go in the garden! He prefers to keep cool under the kitchen island
I want to be free
from desolation and despair
and I feel like everything I saw
is being swept away
when I refuse to let you go
for Kaleigh,
for being the best person in the world,
for her mind-boggling testimonial,
and for tagging me.
I am sure of a lot less than I prefer to let on.
I need to read more books. I always find myself lost back in the same old stories.
I believe I am sometimes too obsessive.
I become bored with the wrong things.
I should be less vague.
I never want to believe I am talented. I fear I would stop learning.
There are too many things I would like to do with my life.
The film industry continually baffles and floors me. In the best way.
I enjoy giving gifts more than receiving them.
I am quiet.
====The Hall of Doom====
Lex- Crane still refuses to answer me. Still, the world can not stop simply because the Scarecrow is ignoring me. There's always a Plan B.
Kuttler- Plan B! You mean to say you're still going through with this?
Lex- Noah, after all these years you still think that 'I' would change my mind? The Scarecrow may have thrown another obstacle my way, he may have through means unknown turned my men against me, but I refuse, point blank, to allow that to stop my from completing my plans.
Kuttler- That's it then? Nothing I can do would stop you?
Lex- Well... I suppose you could shoot me in the head with that gun you're holding but I doubt you really have the courage to kill me.
Kuttler- You'd be surprised, I sent Burnrate after Sionis and the Green Arrow-
Lex- Last month, yes, but that was a machine, wasn't it. You could never really get your hands dirty, could you?
Kuttler- I- damn you
*He throws the gun away in defeat*
Lex- Good. Now, as I was going to say before your little interruption, I want you to contact Emil Hamilton at Project CADMUS, he knows the item I'm after, so therefore it should be easy enough to procure...
*Thawne comes speeding down the hall towards him and throwing him to the ground, his hand around Luthor's throat*
Lex- This is your mutiny is it, Thawne? That makes sense, I thought I recognised your signature sloppiness. Now, if you could loosen your grip-
Thawne- I told him, you know. Kuttler, I mean. I said he couldn't do it.
Lex- Of course not, why would I walk, outside, unprotected, with a man who disagreed with me, without first confirming he would not be a threat? Really Eobard, your constant ressurections must be having a negative effect on your inferior intellect.
Thawne- Don't aggravate me further Lex, I could kill you-
Bane- Thawne! What is this treachery?
Thawne- Ask Luthor. You recognise this Bane?
Bane- Yes. One of our "Brain-Bombs". Explain.
Thawne- Well, I happened to dig that one out of my throat. I imagine- Yes, you have one too
Lex- A precaution, really. After our vote, I couldn't be sure you would go through with our plan
Bane- Remember this Luthor, we aren't like the rest of your lackeys, we are on the council and consequently you shall treat us as equals. If you don't... rest assured I will break you, and anyone who continues to follow you. Are we clear?
Thawne- That's not adequate, you can't trust his word, we're just puppets to him! You know the only way to ensure our survival would be to-
Bane- Killing him would do us no good and I doubt those bombs are the only leverage on us... Now, Luthor, are we clear?
Lex- ... Crystal. Now. If you'll excuse me... *exits*
Thawne- Great, Bane. We had a chance to stop him and you didn't take it!
Bane- I said it would do us no good. It is that simple. We would need to know what we're up against before attempting an attack against him.
Thawne- I still think we ought to have killed him. He was vunerable and-
Bane- That would be cowardly. I abhor cowardice.
Kuttler- You know, there are other ways to stop him...
GEMMA IS VERY ILL AS YOU ALL KNOW AND BACK IN SEPTEMBER SHE LOOKED LOST AND VERY FRAIL AND SAID TO ME HER DRESSING WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN. WELL THANK GOD SHE CHANGED HER MEDS AND STARTED TO PUT ON WEIGHT SHE ISNT SUPPOSE TO BE WITH US CLAIMS HER DOCTOR. BUT GEMMA IS FEELING BETTER AND LOOKING AMAZING. I KNOW CANCER IS'NT EASY FOR ANYONE BUT HAVING HOPE AND REFUSE TO LAY DOWN CAN HELP . LETS HOPE SHE HAS MANY MORE YEARS AHEAD ,
Beach leaves that seem to refuse to shed even after two snowfalls. Taken in North Hampton Park. Montore County in upstate NY.
The mountain Suilven in the North West Highlands of Scotland has a dry stone wall running across its middle. The wall was built about 160 years ago. Some of the stones weigh over a ton. The climb up Suilven is incredibly steep: just imagine the sheer effort to also carry such stones.
Many people wonder why there is a wall on top of a mountain in the far north of Scotland. The strange and sad answer is starvation. In the 1840s and 1850s, during the Highland clearances, when the people were forced from their lands by rich landowners to make way for sheep farming, with many leaving for America, Canada, Australia, etc. a potato famine struck leaving those that were left behind starving. Too proud to beg for charity, which the rich landowners had refused anyway, they were forced to work with little or no purpose, building roads and walls in the middle of nowhere in exchange for food. These were the 'destitution' roads and walls. They still exist across the Highlands to this day, a sad reminder of a blighted history.
I found a tree full of leaves that refuse to drop-- in February!
Dried but beautiful, I liked their color and texture...
Ford / Leach
Many thanks to the office of the San Diego City Clerk and to Andy Patriquin for these photos.
Peterbilt / Amrep
Many thanks to the office of the San Diego City Clerk and to Andy Patriquin for these photos.
This young starling? landed on my lawnmower and refused to budge. That's my son trying to entice him with a little treat. The bird eventually made it's way back to the hedge.
(Taken with my phone (Samsung S4 mini).
An former Gilbertsville truck that was sent over to Allentown. Camp Hill had a sister truck that I filmed but was transferred elsewhere shortly after.
A possible story of the Light of the World.
Centuries have passed since Yahweh inhabited Solomon’s temple around 1000 Before Common Era. Centuries have passed since the last king in David’s linage ignominiously fell around 586 BCE. Tributary king of Judah – Zedekiah – sealed his death sentence, after jilting the Babylonians masters, through a doomed alliance with Egypt, and by refusing to pay tribute to Nebuchadnezzar II. After a year’s siege, Nebuchandnezzar’s army breached Jerusalem defenses then destroyed the temple. Zedekiah saw his son killed, was blinded then carried off to Babylon captivity along with many Jewish people. Centuries have passed since the end of the Jewish diaspora, the return to Jerusalem and phoenix rise of a second temple by 516 BCE. Only a century has passed since Greek Seleucids invaded Israel, warping the Temple into an edifice for worshiping Zeus. Foreigners attempted to quash Yahweh, His direction, the Light within the tribes of Israel. Foreigner enforced Zeus worship. In the village of Modi’in, west of Jerusalem, a faltering Jew turned toward the foreign god, making motions to bow down in worship. A kohen, a Jewish priest of the lineage of Aaron, smite the apostate before completing the act of compliance. The God of angel armies empowered a small force of Maccabeans, led by Mattathias’s son Judah. Executing guerrilla tactics, the combatants defeated the lumbering, slow Seleucid army. With the power of Greek gods decimated, eradicated, the Jewish people were again free to worship in their restored temple.
Herein lies the origins of Hanukkah. The miracle of light, the light that illuminates people and nations, would come back to the Temple.
Four kohanim sprung over stone steps leading to the Temple. Just inside the gate, they slowed to a standstill. Within the courtyard, like tumbleweeds rolling across Judean hills, aimless souls randomly wandered. Gone was the structure, the familiar movement of Jewish religious ceremony. The four stood. Two reached out, holding hands. One placed a hand on the other’s shoulder. Their faces had a common slight downturn of eyebrow, slight upturn of lip. They shared ambivalent thoughts – apprehensive and expectant. What remanence of foreign gods remain, lurking within the shadows of Temple corridors? Yet, Seleucid gods are merely inanimate stone, posing no threat. The Temple seems empty without the presence of Yahweh. Ah, the return of Yahweh to the Temple will restore a radiance to these halls.
With trepidations behind them, the four priests advanced toward the Altar of Sacrifice. The altar was 30 cubits by 30 cubits, or 20 feet by 20 feet. Stylized gourds rimmed the vessel, three oxen standing on each panel, horns perched upon altar corners. The bronze structure sat cold, chilled by unusually nippy 50-degree air hanging in the Chislev (December) day.
A swelling rage within the priests warmed the area. A statute of the Greek fire god Girra sat on the altar. Girra played a role in purification rituals. Rituals, the Seleucids bastard ritual are with this alien god. The Altar of Sacrifice, before the invasion, had been a true place of purification, of sacrifice, of blood spilled in atonement for sins within the tribes of Judah. Yet this Girra, they thought, this false god of fire, ironically brought a chill upon the altar. The priests grabbed and pulled upon the foreign stone, wrestling in down into rubble.
Nothing was more important than purification, restoration of the Temple. Nothing was more important than restoring a seat for Yahweh in the Temple. The priests changed course, enter a hall dimly lit with cloudy day diffused light lumbering through windows. All saw the muddled shape of a great seven-lamp menorah, its polygonal arms set upon a triangular base. The golden lamp itself a centerpiece on a rectangular stone altar, cruse of oil and columns chiseled into the front.
The menorah’s light must again shine. The flames represent Israel as a light unto the nations. The glow of ner tamid, or eternal light, projects Yahweh’ power. The light beams out an exhortation for man to rely on rely on that power. Upon Prophet Zechariah having a vision of the menorah, a heavenly messenger explained: "not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit."
Priests searched for pure, consecrated olive oil to burn within the lamps. They found only one cruse, with oil for one night. They needed oil for eight days. They could not produce that oil for another eight days. They lit the lamps. The light continued to radiate for eight days. The light of Yahweh had returned to the Temple!
FDB 799V - Rochdale M B C (121) - Shelvoke & Drewry/Revopak refuse compactor. Photo by Geoff Bottomley on 10th April 1987
Walters Otto cart, I had it in maybe 06-07, but had to get it replaced because about midway through the cart it split horizontaly, almost following the catch bar. I kinda liked it too.
Even though it means I will be the exception among the vast majority of females when I go out-and-about, I will not give in (except on rare occasions) to the current trend to wear pants or leggings. I like dresses. I like skirts. They are very feminine. If you want to call them "girly," go ahead, but I would more accurately describe them as "ladylike." But being described as a "lady" seems to another term anathema to so many women these days.
So there you have it--to dress as a woman, in a dress, means you are special, and I can handle that :)
...the Department of Motor Vehicles on Teutonia Avenue, I suggest that afterwards you celebrate the rare sweetness of bureaucratic liberation by going two doors north to YICK'S INN. You might miss it as, from a cosmetic standpoint, it is the most unprepossessing looking of restaurants. Who could be captivated by it? If one is prone to over-thinking, the idea might occur that its complete plainness is a celebration of a paradox. The facade of the place is intentionally so lacking in ornamentation that it manages to immediately catch attention. If done on purpose, this would be a fine strategy. But I doubt that the jarring sameness of the place is planned, and I believe this for a good reason: to survive and flourish as it has since the Carter administration, YICK’S doesn’t need inventive marketing, or for that matter, any marketing at all. The place has been under chef Jimmy’s ownership for untold generations. It captivates for the simple reason that it has always seemed to exist; it is such an entrenched part of Milwauee’s north-side culinary scene that one could well-imagine it was there before the city around it put down stakes. Who needs fancy-pants?
YICK’S (take-out only!) is permanent.
Upon closer inspection, especially if you have a hankering for the hyper-Americanized Chinese restaurant food of the last century, the temptation may arise to give the place a try. Since that cuisine was part of my childhood, I did precisely that. Entering YICK’S door turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made; right up there with quitting the clarinet in middle-school, a decision I every day thank God for helping me make. Yet one more reason to be a theist.
“Go in...don’t be shy,” I heard a faint voice, more distant than the sands of old Egypt advise. When the sands of old Egypt start cracking wise, it’s best to pay attention.
I went in there.
Before getting to what YICK’S does best, it would be negligent not to mention the sign that prominently greets and informs the patron upon entering. This text defines the spirit of the eatery’s place in the cosmic scheme of things.
PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU ORDER
THIS IS NOT A FAST FOOD RESTAURANT.
EVERYTHING IS MADE TO ORDER
PEASE DON'T RING THE BELL AND LEAVE NOW.
ONCE YOU HAVE PLACED AN ORDER AND WE HAVD STARTED PROCESSING YOUR FOOD, “NO REFUND”
NO CHANGE WILL BE MADE, NO EXCEPTION.
IF YOU WANT SOME FAST FOOD, WE SUGGEST YOU TRY THE FOLLOWING RESTAURANTS. THEIRS MAY BE FASTER, BETTER AND CHEAPER.
CHINA ONE 64TH AND BROWN DEER, CHINA ONE 74TH AND APPLETON CHINESE CHEF 78TH AND APPLETON, WONG’S WOK, CAPITAL AND APPLETON, HONG KONG EXPRESS 74TH AND GOOD HOPE, ROYAL WOK GREEN TREE AND GREEN BAY, WOK2GO SHERMAN AND BRADLEY, YENS CHINA 78TH AND GOOD HOPE.
And then a reassuring coda:
WE ARE NOT RELATED! GOOD LUCK!
This is a remarkable, and in some ways, inspiring passage. It brings to mind some ancient rabbinic advice that I have been conveniently trying to avoid for a good part of my inattentive life. YICK’S, I am happy to report , did me a favour. It helped me start to pay more attention. As it tuns out, the restaurant has made more contributions to my spiritual growth than attending High-Holy Day services at Congregation Shalom.
“And when you pray know who before you stand….” I can’t vouch for Jimmy’s theological stance when he is in the kitchen. But his words on that sign tell me that he knows where he is, he knows what he is doing, and he knows the glory of making the best damned fried rice in Milwaukee County.
Rebbe Jimmy.
Enough of the religious digression...this is a restaurant review.
At the risk of losing the curious reader who wants to get to “the meat and potatoes”, I must confess something: the only food I have sampled on the menu is the Fried Rice. The wisdom needed to approach the egg rolls is not yet with me. Not yet. Perhaps not in this lifetime. If I roll the cubes right, maybe in the next.
How is the fried rice? Is it “authentic.”? This last is a word I have recently begun to move away from using in any critical discussion. It tends to make critics even more insufferable than they already are, and may even inspire viola players to consider using a machete rather than horsehair bow to inflict harm.
“I am what I am” a voice adumbrates from the depths of the “take out” carton. Who could refuse to see what that “am” looks like? Not me, bubba. Here it is: a magisterial conglomeration of grains that when delved into, separates into wise counterpoints, breaks down further into pleasing intervals (mostly major sixths to those who want to know the specifics), and lastly arrives into individual pitches, seminal, golden and browned.
Maestro Jimmy.
Eugene Landry
Lithographic Print
16" x 18"
Eugene Landry: An Artist, a Time and a Tribe
May 28-29, 2022
Shoalwater Bay Heritage Museum of the Shoalwater Bay Tribe, Tokeland, Washington.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Portrait of an Artist
Eugene ''Gene'' Landry (1937-1988) was a noted Northwest Native artist, who painted from the confines of a wheelchair. His personal story is one of perseverance, of an artist who created despite setbacks, always with humor and style.
Landry's art offers a glimpse into a transitional and little-documented time in Northwest Native history. His paintings are important because they represent a Native artist's portrayal of his own people during a time when Native Americans were erased, marginalized, and misrepresented by stereotypes in media and public education.
Landry painted contemporary portraits of his people, depicting them as they were. As one of his models said, ''We're so small and isolated here. People think we're so different. At one time, we had a bunch of kids from Raymond come down, and they wanted to know where our feathers were."
Gene was born in the village of Taholah on the Quinault Indian
Reservation. His biological mother was Hoh and his father was Quileute and Swedish. As an infant, he was adopted by Myrtle (Charley) and Fred Landry and raised at Georgetown, Myrtle's reservation.
Identity
As the only child of Myrtle and Fred Landry, Gene was well provided for and deeply loved. His biological-mother, Isabelle Hudson, a full-blooded Hoh, is remembered as having dark reddish-brown hair. His father, Austin Rosander, was half Quiliuette and half Swedish. Although Gene was adopted as a baby, he maintained ties with his biological family, who lived in Grays Harbor and the surrounding area.
Gene's appearance did not conform to expectations of what an Indian was "supposed to look like." His bright red hair (sometimes referred to as "Hoh River blond") made him stand out. In high school, he styled his hair like James Dean and drove a red 1937 hot rod Ford coupe. He was a gifted athlete, known for his running and boxing prowess, but he wasn't
allowed to run track because he refused to cut his hair.
Gene's art training was not traditional to his culture. He reached advanced levels in art at Aberdeen and Ocosta High Schools, but there were no practitioners of Native arts around to mentor him. He explored and developed his talent using the means available, based on Western European art traditions. He would go on to create art with a native sensibility, using the tools available.
Art Student
Gene trained himself to use his non-dominant left hand to paint. In 1961, he enrolled at the Leon F. Derbyshire School of Fine Arts in Seattle. There was no wheelchair access, so Gene had to be carried up the stairs to the second floor classroom.
In 1962 Gene studied with noted Northwest sculptor Philip Levine at his Phoenix Gallery in Seattle. By 1964, Gene was showing his work and winning acclaim in the Pacific Northwest. Over the next four years, he exhibited at the Frye Museum, the West Coast Annual at the Seattle Civic Center, The Edmonds and Anacortes Art Festivals, and the La Grande All Indian Arts Festivals.
Gene met Sharon Billingsley, a model and painter who attended classes at Derbyshire, and they struck up a friendship that led to romance. The couple could often be found sketching street scenes side by side, Gene in his wheelchair, Sharon next to him on a folding stool.
Gene and Sharon married in California on May 28, 1965. They went to Paris to study art, then returned to the Northwest, living in Seattle, Tacoma, and Georgetown until their marriage ended in 1972.
Back to Georgetown, Washington
In the late l960s, Landry moved back to the Shoalwater Bay Reservation. He set up a studio inside a small cabin that had been moved to the reservation from North Cove's at Washaway Beach. A wheel chair ramp and wrap-around deck made it accessible for plein air painting. Situated on the shore of Shoalwater Bay, Gene painted still-lives utilizing objects that washed in on the tides: glass fishing floats, discolored rope, old bones, shells and feathers.
He also painted still lifes and portraits in oil, using his family and friends as models. These works span a pivotal time in the tribe's history, from near termination to federal recognition.
Fifty years have passed since Gene painted Winona Weber's portrait. When asked why Landry's art matters today, she replied:
“I am a historian at heart. Gene's art is part of our history. Also, a talent like his really deserves to be acknowledged. When I was working with the women's history project, I said I was happy to be breaking some stereotypes of native women. A woman said it should just be commonplace. But first you have to be visible to be usual. I would like to see Gene visible."
Later Years
Gene traveled throughout the Southwest, spending time in New Mexico and Arizona. He traveled to Mexico and the Philippines seeking native healers to help with his deteriorating health. He eventually lost function in his left arm but continued to make art, holding the brush in his teeth to reach higher places on the canvas.
In 1980 Gene moved to Santa Barbara. His house, perched on a bluff overlooking the sea, was filled with art, his own and others. He opened a gallery downtown and championed the work of local artists. In the mid 80s his business partner-who was also his care giver unexpectedly died. His own health declining, Gene returned to his parent's home on the reservation.
Gene Landry died April 7, 1988 at age 51. He is buried next to Myrtle Landry and his relations in the Indian section at Sunset Memorial in Hoquiam, Washington. The Shoalwater Bay Tribe’s Na ‘m ‘sc ‘ac Heritage Museum is located on the former site of the cabin and dome.
Illness, November 1955
The illness came without warning. When 17-year-old Gene suddenly lost consciousness, his parents wrapped him in blankets and drove two hours to Cushman Indian Hospital in Tacoma. There were closer facilities for emergency care, but they did not provide Indian Health services. Gene remained a patient at Cushman for two and a half years, undergoing treatment for tubercular meningitis. The disease paralyzed his legs, and he endured grueling physical therapy, but he continued to work on paintings from a hospital bed.
Gene's parents moved to Tacoma to be closer to the hospital. When Myrtle Landry raised concerns about his condition and the poor care, Gene was abruptly discharged. Myrtle Landry (Washington Women's Heritage Project 1980):
"One doctor said, 'Why don't you just go and leave him and forget about him?' I said, 'Just who do you think you're talking to anyway?' I said, 'I got feelings, even though I'm a full blood Indian, I got feelings.' He said, 'Well, he'll never amount to anything.' I said, 'Well, I'm sure as heck not gonna let him die here.' And boy I raised Cain with 'em. So they told us one day, 'You get out.'
And then the State decided they could do more for him than I could." The decision proved tragic. At a rehabilitation facility on Bainbridge Island, Gene fell while being moved by attendants and suffered a spinal injury. He lost the use of his right arm and the possibility of ever walking again. He was 21 years old.
20-yard Roll-Off Dumpster
Royal Refuse Service
Eugene, OR
June 2017
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.
This truck is currently being borrowed from the Wenatchee shop while several of Kennewick's trucks are down for major repairs.
Chassis: Freightliner Condor
Body: Wittke Starlight w/ The Curotto-Can II
Hauler: Waste Management
Location: Kennewick, WA
Date: September 2018
See More Trashy Photos & Videos At: www.thrash-n-trash.com/
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.