(1994)
Young lovers, New York
Blithe spirit Sea rescue, Atlantic Ocean*
Low tide, full moon The skipper heard the call coming over marine radio and knew from his current position that he was probably the closest vessel to render aid. He radioed the USCG that he was en route, then did the mental checklist. He knew he’d been prepared for this event, should it occur, for years now. He had extra PFDs, foil thermal blankets for shock symptoms, an overfull first-aid kit, a floating light beacon, water and other provisions. There was just one thing he forgot. (1991)
*A backyard in Delaware County, Pa.Tenderness, New York
(1997)
Window shopping, Philadelphia
(1991)
Back alley, Philadelphia
(1992)
Sunbeam, New York
(1997)
Tiniest redwood, near Eureka, Calif.
(1997)
Restaurant staff, Hong Kong
(2014)
Parole officers, Philadelphia
Might have a problem. One of their fellow officers, somewhat incongruously, was a member of a squash and tennis club on the Main Line where I tended bar. The Fox show COPS was just in development, and this outfit was featured in the pilot (something like that). The club member invited me to tag along with the guys for a while, with a story in mind for some publication. But there was competition for my time and what would pay for it, and the story was never written, to my lasting regret. Because dear God it was an insane story. Like the predawn raid (for which I was given a Kevlar vest) when they all went bursting into a crackhouse rowhome, leaving the entrance uncovered. Who’s got the front door? I shouted, because I had learned a couple things by then. “You do.” (1989)
Haircut, New York
So helpless It was an Upper East Side barber shop, where little boys rolled up jeans cuffs and sat in Jeep chairs instead of on the plank that spanned a man’s barber chair when I was a little boy. If today I had the choice of looking back at a photo of myself in the old man’s plank seat or this one, I would go plank. I’m visible to them on the sidewalk outside the barber shop. I think the woman far right gets it. The woman to her right: not sure. The barber/stylist is either discussing the cut or is flagging my presence. But the boy, the boy is taking dead aim. Perhaps he knew. (1995 or 1996)
