The view from above.

The view from above.

Living atop a high rise is fun.  Daily I can look down at all the little people (literally…I live on the 32nd floor) and see all kinds of activity from a different point of view.

A few days ago, I glanced down at the third floor courtyard and garden and noticed a girl in the common area preparing to do something.  All of a sudden she started doing back flips and twists.  I quickly realized she was a cheerleader (or gymnast but I’m certain she was a student from HPU) and grabbed my newest toy, my Canon 1D Mark II (it beats the hell out of that tinny 5D!) and a 400mm lens.  At 10 frames a second, I rattled off a succession of images of the cheerleader jumping backwards.

Not about photography…

Not about photography...

Every so often, I have to blog about something non photo related.

Today’s subject…futbol and the world cup!

Nationalism is good.

And its even better when you follow the World Cup!  Only a global event event like this can bring dark feelings of patriotic song, memories of past wars, and historic games in which your country revenged a past debt from decades ago.  As for the US, our collective soccer history really starts in the 1990’s when the US held the ’94 World Cup but it still gives many Americans the chance to paint the flag on the face, drink loads of beer early in the afternoon, and hoot the ol’ war chant U-S-A! U-S-A!  We really can’t lay claim to a North vs South game where slavery is on the line or even a USA vs whom every we’ve gone to war with in the past.  Imagine the game strategy against Vietnam…carpet bomb the backfield, bomb the neighbors, try to win the hearts-and-minds of the opposing fans, and then have the US soccer federation tell the team to lose the game because the rating are low on ESPN.  We have played games like US vs Iran (or as I recall the Great Satan vs the Ayatollah’s rock and rollahs) but they just don’t have that historical feeling like watching England vs Argentina where memories of the Faulkland Islands ring clear.  Yet US soccer is still fun to watch regardless of their historic shortcomings and past.  No I take that back, that Iran game at the ’98 WC was pretty heavy.  I recall all the Iranians having heavy mustaches.

For the past few weeks, I’ve drank loads of coffee as the games start as early as 4 AM in HNL, and I have wrapped myself in the feel good Americanism of Team USA.  Forget about our failing financial woes, our pointless war in Afghanistan, our leaderless nation not doing enough to clean up the Gulf oil spill…ITS WORLD CUP TIME!  Its time to wave the flag!  Sing at the top of our lungs:  WE ARE PROUD TO BE AMERICANS! (where at least we know we’re free at this point from VAT taxes, a forced national health care, etc…)  We are free right NOW and we should paint our faces in red-white-and blue and sing the joys of the athletic nationalism.

I can’t say most Americans are always proud to be American.  Hell, Michelle Obama stated not too long ago…” For the first time in my adult lifetime, I’m proud of my country.”  I guess she’s not watching enough soccer.  But we should all feel proud when our national athletes take the field and do battle for our collective pride.  Billy Clinton was down at one of the USA games and when interviewed after the game, he was hoarse and teary eyed.  Bill did America proud!

Sadly, the US is out.  The mediocre Americans lost to a slightly stronger Ghana whose many players all work in the top leagues in Europe.  Only a few Americans play near the pinnacle of top flight European football but most still play for second and third tier teams or work in the MLS in the States.  By far the best and brightest (?) athletes converge at the big three sports in the US leaving soccer for moms, SUV’s and suburban white kids.  We can’t say the US is out for a lack of trying.  I mean some of the best games were played by the US. Just listen to Spanish announcer Andres Cantor call the game for the US against Algeria in the first round.  Landon Donovan scored an overtime winner that still puts chills down my spine where I see that last second golazo.  You can listen to it here in espanol from youtube.com.

But the US team just isn’t good enough to compete beyond the first round and knock out stages.  Criticism has come from all sides stating we have a average domestic coach, players are not good enough, etc.  I’m also reading the US soccer federation will now create better outreach programs to pull kids from the greater American gene pool.  What does that mean?  It means soccer will try to move into the ghetto and el barrio and pull kids who would normally go to football, basketball and baseball.  Good. Imagine if soccer were to steal an Eli Manning, a Kobe Bryant, or an Oscar Dela Hoya?  We’d, like most other sports, dominate.  My friend David has always said why not get a 6’6 center from a basketball team and train him just to stand in front of the opponent’s net and jump up and hit the ball with his head?  That’s more or less what Peter Crouch does for England?

And besides with all the immigration that floods legally and illegally into our country, we’re bound to have some Diego Milito from Argentina or a some other Latin, Eastern Europe or African star show up.

Alas, most of my teams are out.  From America, to the country of my heritage (Mexico) the the country of my language (England) and now the country of my wife (Japan.)  I’ve got nothing.  I could start to dwell in the roots of my background (Portugal and Spain) but now Portugal is out leaving Spain with the only thread to really cling.  I could never really pull myself to cheer for a national team that wasn’t mine or I didn’t have some connection to but at this point, the world cup is over.  I’ll still wake up and watch the Germany Argentina game or the Brazil Netherlands game but in reality, its no fun. The nationalism is gone.  No more chanting yes we can as we did and we found out we really couldn’t.

Besides, I miffed at the poor handling of major mistakes by FIFA for not allowing goal line technology to be employed.  England had a goal taken away and Argentina was clearly off sides against Mexico causing the Mexicans to return to a game where an obvious injustice had been done.  The US had a game winning goal taken away by a ref from Mali.  Did anyone ask if the ref might have anti US bias?  The US doesn’t have the best image in the third world.  And besides, might that ref have Al Qaida sympathies?

Either way, another World Cup is just about done and I’m feeling depressed and blue.  So much emotion goes into each game and it hurts to see “my” team loose.  Eh–enough of this because soon enough, English Premier League will start in August and the drama will begin all over at the club level.  All the big stars will go back to their multi-ethnic teams and makes loads of money again.  Christano Ronaldo, who did absolutely terrible in this Cup, will go back to his millions in Spain and loads of screaming fans.

One sad note, the English, who were absolutely terrible in this world cup, were missing Beckham.  What fun he would have brought to the atmosphere of a dying English side.

A man, his dolls, and a straw on Waikiki Beach

Last week as I walked the beach in Waikiki I encountered a strange yet compelling subject(s)…  I went for a stroll down Waikiki Beach, camera in hand, and I came across a small floatie anchored in a tide pool roughly in front of the Hyatt.

The raft, which I thought belonged to a child, held several dolls and small toys.  I thought “how cute..a young girl brought her toys out to the beach.” But strangely enough, I see a older Asian male walking towards the raft. He wore a life preserver, a red swim cap with the chin strap pulled tightly under his pudgy neck, a rash guard, and tight swim trunks.

He was sitting with a normal looking older Asian lady wearing a bathing suit and had a cheap green inflatable inner tube around her waist. I overheard her referring to him as Otosan, or father in Japanese.  They sat on towels, had an ice box, and were enjoying the sunny day.  I kept looking for the kids who’s raft I found but I saw no one around.

But a few minutes later, Otosan waded into the water, went for a brief swim then walked over to the raft.  He delicately took each doll out, cupped water into his hands and gently washed the dolls off speaking to each one as he did.  He took great care placing each doll back back and arranged them in a particular seating order.  He then waded back towards the beach speaking to other beach goers as he went.

He sat back in the sand next to the woman, took several large gulps from a large Arizona tea can and then poured tea into a mug with a straw.  I quickly waded back into the water as I what was coming.  He then waded back into the water and made himself towards the raft.

He took each individual doll and gave them all a sip from his straw. He lovingly took each figurine and gave them each a moment to drink from his mug so they might also enjoy themselves on the beach. Otosan was treating each figure as if they were real. I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing as I took picture after picture but I couldn’t turn away.

So after rattling off a few frame, Otosan, who never noticed me, wandered back to his spot, grabbed a tackle box and rod and went fishing off the rocks.  I wasn’t sure what to think of what I shot as it was one of the more weird things I’ve ever encountered.  I guess you could assume anything but this was just a bizarre moment caught on film.

Oddly enough, my wife pointed out the pregnant bather wandering in the background.  I was a bit upset with her in the frame as she threw off my composure but the psychology of her in the back made the image more powerful.

I got bored waiting for him to return from his fishing spot so I wandered  but eventually returned to Otosan’s spot I saw him wading back from the rocks and over to the lady he was with and it appeared she told him to change out of his beach clothes and sent him to the bathroom. Sadly my parking meter was almost up and it was taking him forever to return so I had to leave the site leaving the mystery of the dolls to the wind.

I really have nothing more to say about Otosan and this image. I might re-write some of this at some point but I’ll leave it at that.

A note about the film…Kodak’s Ektar 100 held up nicely though I wasn’t very happy how the reds were over saturated in the scan from my Nikon 8000 but I couldn’t seem to control that either in the scanning software or Photoshop. I tried to pull down the saturation in both but all it would do would muddy up the color. I might get a drum scan of this image at some point.  I was shooting with a Leica M6 and a 50mm Leitz F1.4 lens.  The lens coating probably accounted for the over saturation.