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As Super Bowl XLVIII approaches this seems an appropriate post.

Ah, the fun of cleaning up a bunch of old boxes. You never know what treasures you might stumble upon.

People often ask me how long have I been a photographer. I can’t really remember a time that I wasn’t. I covered 3 Super Bowls when they were still in single digits.

My father was a well known camera repairman in the Dallas area. I worked with him for a short time when I was a young teenager. That was a treasure in itself. He knew most of the well known area photographers, they came to him to get his help and advice. One of my favorite customers was Jim Laughead. He was a real character. He always donned a wide brimmed fedora and a red vest. He carved out a niche for himself photographing all the major college and professional football teams across the United States.

He asked me what I wanted to do for a living and I told him I wanted his job. He asked if I was interested in football photograph and I said yes. He invited me to come to a Dallas Cowboy game with him. He gave me and my dad sideline passes to come watch the Cowboys play against the New York Giant at the old Cotton Bowl on December 1, 1963. I was fifteen years old.

I got to watch Sam Huff, Y A Tittle (in his hi-tops in 2nd pic), Frank Gifford, Don Meredith, Eddie Lebaron, Bob Lilly, Cornel Green, Jerry Tubbs and Chuck Howley and of course Tom Landry in his iconic fedora.

I had only a twin lens Rolleiflex to shoot with, but it was more the being there. That was one perfect day, even if the Cowboys lost.

It was almost as much fun coming across a few of the photos I took that day.

You can visit the past, you just can’t stay there. en theos ††† jim


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Christmas reminds us we are not alone.  We are not unrelated atoms, jouncing and ricocheting amid aliens, but are a part of something, which holds and sustains us.  As we struggle with shopping lists and invitations, compounded by December’s bad weather, it is good to be reminded that there are people in our lives who are worth this aggravation, and people to whom we are worth the same.  Christmas shows us the ties that bind us together, threads of love and caring, woven in the simplest and strongest way within the family. Donald E. Westlake

Enjoy your blessings, keep an eye out for your brightest star and follow that sucker……..en theos….jim

IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #570 – Memories that come through the nose.

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So here I am, continuing my trip down memory lane.

Just as I was wooed by my eyes with the notice of my old marbles, my nose seemed jealous and wanted to add some flavor of it’s own. As we walked a couple of evenings ago, a certain smell brought seasoning of it’s own doing.  Not a flower or a bush, the sort of smell that wafted nostalgia. Ah, the smell of fresh landry placed out in the fall air to dry. The feel of my youth, straining to reach the non-sagging end of the clothesline. The comforting smell and the clean crispness of gathering of garments made afresh from the wash of the fall air.

I think a little of my waxing nostalgic is brought on by my approaching sixty fifth birthday.  A number that seems way too big to fit into my frame of mind. It is causing me more mental conflict than any of the other candles that have been burned away. Throw in fall, my favorite season if for no other reason than of all the great smells that carry me back.

So, I followed my eyes and nose to the source in my neighbors backyard. I felt the smell as the clothes were tousled by the breeze. Such a gentle and calming moment. But like our short fall season, it will quietly fade into winter and then come freshly back alive next spring.

Follow your nose to a place of peace. ††† en theos ††† jimwork


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It is strange the stuff we keep. It occupies a small place in our house yet we lose notice of them. When my mother passed away a number of years ago, we were faced with the daunting task of cleaning her home of many positions. She was a borderline hoarder, albeit a neat and semi orderly one.

I found this jar of marbles and it came very close to going to the auctioneer along with a lot of other things of unknown origins. As I looked into the jar, a settling warmth went through me as I recognized these glass marbles as mine from a childhood long ago lost. For just a snapshot of a moment, I was in my childhood, in the neighborhood vacant lot. Drawing a circle in the harden west Texas dirt and “shooting for keeps” with Mike, Dale, and Jacky.  I could see us all on our knees taking  turns squinting in the seemingly important  hope  of knocking anothers marble out of the circle and into our bag.  Bob Segar’s words ‘Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” echoed through my heart.

That same value of times gone bye flashed through me as I walked past the dusty jar sitting in the foyer corner. I walk past this memory a baker’s dozen times a day. Never giving it the value it deserves. I carried it with me to the front porch for my morning musings and watched as the sun renewed the reflections of life off these simple glass spheres.

Take  the time to remember all the marbles of your youth that you have given away for keeps. ††† en theos ††† jimwork

Photo of Da day @ Da Pine #315

The Dragon-fly by Alfred Lord TennysonToday I saw the dragon-flyCome from the wells where he did lie.An inner impulse rent the veilOf his old husk: from head to tailCame out clear plates of sapphire mail.He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dewA living flash of light he flew.In its eyes are mirroredfar-off-mountainsDragonfly!Some days words come to me, other days someone else has better ones. Hard to compete with Alfred Lord Tennyson. I can remember my dad helping me to learn the words so I could recite by memory The Charge of the Light Brigade to my fourth grade class.“Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind themVolley’d and thunder’d;Storm’d at with shot and shell,While horse

via Photo of Da day @ Da Pine #315.

Photo of Da day @ Da Pine #315

The Dragon-fly by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Today I saw the dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;
Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew.

In its eyes are mirrored

Some days words come to me, other days someone else has better ones. Hard to compete with Alfred Lord Tennyson.  I can remember my dad helping me to learn the words so I could recite by memory  The Charge of the Light Brigade to my fourth grade class.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred

I thought it was so cool to hear the snickers of the rest of the class when I got to say “Hell” in class.

Cherish the memories and wonder of it all on your journey†††††††††nada te turbe†††††jim

Photo of Da day @ Da Pine #163

I could imagine the smell of talc and a mixture of Barbicide, shaving cream and Old Spice. There would be those tall bottles filled with colorful liquids of unknown purpose. Lined in front of a mirror that reflected another mirror and the images faded to infinity. A glass carafe of burnt coffee and and the odor of snubbed out cigarette buttes in a sand filled canister ash tray.  My heart warmed for  a hot towel and a straight razor shave.  I felt my Grandpa Jim walk by, nice.

How the times change, sometimes even for the good.

A lot from a quick glimpse of an old style, man’s barbershop in T or C, NM. How long has it been since you been in one?

Sometimes it good to visit the past on your journeynada te turbe….jim