Two Years: What Didn't Make the Final Cut

August 26th, 2001 - August 26th, 2003: Cyberscotts Outtakes

Shortly after 9/11 I took the picture and wrote a rather sappy poem to go with it.
I like the picture.

A little later, feeling better, but no reason to show our dirty laundry.

Recital day and very cliché.
Too cliché.

My grandmother and grandfather at their best.
He died before I was born, she evolved into a large, mean, troll-like woman who was the center of gravity on any mattress she slept on.
I remember falling asleep, clawing at the mattress and rolling towards her when I was four.
She smelled of something like butter.
I was happy to have known her - she gave me some of her meanness.

USA, USA, USA. Everywhere you look, USA.
But this might have been too personal and too political.
I did not post the page.

I am cheating here, I did post this picture.
It was the last picture I took of him, tired old dog.
As far as I know, it was the last picture anybody took of him.
He is gone.

A well-planned page, a page about Berlin timed for August 13th.
But time rolled over me like a persistent slug and I, less persistent, was left with my fancy graphics and memories and nothing else to show for it.

Hey, bring it on.
Or not.
Much too political.