Having taken a few days of vacation time from work provided the potential opportunity to do some more serious scooter riding with the Vespa.  Sloth, weather and bad planning on my part eliminated my options revolving around the Vespa and relegated me to other forms of travel.

Weather interfered on a few mornings as the temperature dipped below freezing and transformed lingering slush and moisture into the kind of early season road ice that can give a scooter rider fits.  Standing in the driveway I could see the remains of salt still at work and with my Heidenau snow tires still sitting in the garage it would not be a great idea to go for a ride.

Even if the snow tires were mounted, the scooter headset is still dismantled as I await some additional parts for the heated grips.

Sunday morning in State College, Pennsylvania, the view down Allen Street as I make my way to Saint’s Cafe to join fellow riders and photographers Gordon Harkins and Paul Ruby.  Neither rode on this morning either though ice was not an issue with the temperature in the upper 30s.

As the morning unfolded I realized that there are more travel options than I often realize.  And many don’t involve motors or wheels.

Finding and establishing rituals is more important to me now than when I was younger and the world was something to consume and discard with each new day something to experience.  I don’t believe my experience was that robust or unique but it was easy to romanticize newness and adventure in ways I don’t now.  The younger me wanted to see every sight on a trip.  The older me wants to revisit the familiar over and over until I understand what I’m seeing.  Can’t say which is the better approach, only that they’re different and where I am now.

Saint’s Cafe has been the place I return to on most Sunday mornings for the past seven or eight years.  I wonder if I’m considered a regular and if I’ve become a character like those on Cheers.  I don’t think many people know my name but they do recognize the yellow riding jacket.

Earl Grey tea and a Moleskine journal — part of another long standing ritual.  The tea has remained consistent though my writing has fluctuated in the past couple years as I’m drawn more and more into the digital bog.  Digital is so alluring and easy that I’ve considered abandoning the pen and paper, film, darkroom and more.  Some lingering voice whispers for me to resist.  Part of the ritual of being at the cafe is to ponder the meaning of those whispers.

Gordon returned some of the Kodak Tri-X film I lent him to shoot the Penn State football game.  I bet there were no other photographers along the sidelines shooting film, especially black and white film.  I’m not sure if he’s an enigma or an anachronism.  Either way, seeing that film sitting on the table triggered some powerful desires to pick up my Leica M6 again and make the photographs that so faithfully fulfilled the creative hole that lives in me.  Everything stands ready to do it save for the personal hesitation I shroud in excuses.

Film is not dead.  Merely tired.

Paul and Gordon routinely show up with new work while I sink into my chair as a distant observer who remembers what it was like to be a photographer.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.  Or maybe just over scheduled.

Gordon brought a lovely set of images he made of our friends and colleagues Stephen Dirado and Frank Armstrong at the opening of their exhibition in Massachusetts titled Regarding Landscape.

I can barely comprehend the work involved to produce another exhibition myself.  It’s been too long.

Paul also had a lovely set of images made over Thanksgiving at a friends place in the Catskills.  This print of his girlfriend’s daughter emerged from his backpack along with some others of the location. Paul is persistent in his image making and works hard to stay engaged with the camera, a critical component in being a good photographer.  He was working with an 8×10 Deardorff camera when I first met him and while today he’s fully digital his work sometimes echoes that large format approach.

Paul put together this lovely composite image that for me creates a powerful feeling of that snow filled landscape.  I can’t wait to see a large incarnation in print.

Thinking about photographs and photography I realized that there are other ways to travel besides the physical act of moving through space.  Like Rod Serling often said, “You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!”

Perhaps that’s where I’m headed.

The signs juxtaposed against Gordon was too much for me to resist.  He would be the first one to say he’s always going the wrong way.  While I don’t agree with the assessment it was a funny scene.

For an hour or so each week the three of us exist in close proximity, sharing ideas, problems, stories and lies, all part of a ritual that provides me with a great deal of satisfaction.  Seeing our feet on the floor reminded me of the closeness that’s developed because of our shared interests.

I still don’t have the scooter put together.  I’ve not shot any film.  I haven’t accomplished much of anything lately.  I did buy some craft beer.

Alcohol is no longer part of my life.  Not even a little due to the medication I take for my ankylosing spondylitis.  My doctor at Johns Hopkins grilled me about perils of even sips of beer or wine and how they can fry my liver.

Right now.  Fast.  Badly.

My luck it would come at a time when the craft brews exploded.  So while I can’t sample any of them I do enjoy looking at the labels and names and putting together little collections for friends and family that can still partake.  This Christmas Ale was one of the graphical items that caught my eye.

So that’s the news from Happy Valley.  Hopefully by the end of the week the scooter will be back on the road and life will be grand…