August : thirty
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
August : twenty eight
I don’t fancy myself a gossip. In fact, part of my job involves asking probing questions. This is a.) partly due to regulations involving money laundering prevention, and b.) the know your client rule. This in general doesn’t constitute gossiping as I’m not sharing the information with outside parties. It is however, difficult for me in general, as I feel like it is not my business where you get your money or how you spend it... (I would be offended if someone asked me where my money is coming from or what I planed on doing with the $15K I just withdrew from my account. My answer would be that’s really not your business.) Or why you lost your job and what you plan on doing now…. although if you did lose your job or need a second income I can definitely share an opportunity with you. I ask what I have to ask to follow the rules. In my mind less is more. My partner on the other hand, has a little different view. For example, when I find out that a client is getting a divorce. I can easily ask about changing their beneficiaries, setting up an appointment to divide assets etc. My partner on the other hand wants to know the details, the why, and I think is disappointed when I don’t ask the “why” question. In general, she has the more personal relationship with them and I feel like if she wants to know the why, she should ask it herself. I on the other hand am more of a need to know kinda girl, and for me to do my job, I don’t need to know the why, just the when, where, who and how.
That being said, I do wonder the story behind some things. Why is that building empty? And what is it’s history? Or what happened to make that house family-less. This gas station, or filling station as my grandmother called them, this was once someone’s dream. What happened? Did the owner retire? Was he run out by the corporate stations, the Wal-marts and Shells, the Chevrons and BP’s? Or did he die? Does his family now own it? Did he even have a family? Or perhaps, the city or county now owns it due to a tax sell. These are the stories that I wonder about.
I guess in some ways if I was my partner, I may know the answer to some of those questions.
Coincidentally, Ray LaMontange's Gossip in the Grain came on Pandora as I posted this.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
US Air Force Rescue Craft
I'm on my way to the R3Global Family Reunion in Orlando. I decided to take an extra day
to cruse the Gulf shores. As I was setting in traffic I spotted Battleship Memorial Park. The park was closing in an hour so there wasn't enough time to tour the ship, but grounds had some nice memorials. I'm sure I'll get to spend more time there in the future.
Monday, August 16, 2010
August : sixteen
On hot summer days, Alice would grab a cooler and round up all of us kids, "get in the bus!" she'd say. We'd all sit on the wooden floor (the bus had no rear seats). I remember being so excited and asking where we were going. She always said the same thing... "we're going crazy"! It made me laugh because even at 5yrs old I knew it was because we were driving her crazy! Sometimes it was the park. Sometimes it was the beach. Every time it was a great treat. Thanks for that Alice.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Captured: America in Color from 1939-1943 – Plog Photo Blog
An evocative look at our history captured on color slides. These images are extremely powerful. I'd love to seem them in person.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Nat King Cole /where did everyone go?
cover shot by Ken Veeder, 1963
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
August : five
There are people that cross my mind from time to time. People that at one time I was close to until, for what ever reason, either me or them, or a combination of both, let life get in the way. Some forgettable fragment of time that changed the course of our relationship forever. I wonder if those people ever think of me.