“It’s never a good idea to go through your husband’s phone.”
I don’t recall who Leigh was talking with, or the situation that prompted this bold proclamation, but it seemed pretty liberal and a virtual free-pass coming from the keeper of all my passwords.
A quick look-see through my iPhone’s pics reveals a random collection of 7,797 photos and 628 videos. Visual documentation of family, art, nature, travel, improv scenes, Jeep stuff, sexy warehouse construction sites and miscellaneous sprinkler systems. While most are easily explained, some may require a little more finesse in describing content and context. Sometimes the line between visual documentation and material evidence can be a gray and faded smudge.
So you’ve been warned: This piece is about the pictures residing on my phone.
Having amassed such a throng of potential evidence you’d think that’s I had already embarked on a mass-delete effort; but I haven’t. My inner-hoarder is simply afraid I’ll get rid of the perfect photo that I will absolutely need to save a life, or prove a point.
Having said that I’d thought I go ahead and do some Spring cleaning, or at least a review, of photos on my phone. Here are a few highlights.
This is your final warning.
Back in the day when it was in vogue to question Obama’s birthplace and background, I liked to whip out this snapshot of a page from the Punahou School 1979 yearbook.
Why? Six degrees of P. McB! I accompanied Anita Oba to the 1977 Punahou Senior Prom. Saichi, Anita’s brother, a former foe on the gridiron and current Facebook friend, was Punahou class of 1979. This is always a fun exhibit to produce for those important ‘birther’ discussions. Barry also dated my next door neighbor, Betsy Esser. I don’t have pics, but you’ll note I dropped that line in anyway.
It’s tough to go wrong with pics of your bride…or is it?
Some pictures are iconic in their own right and require no backstory.
Speaking of backstories, when traveling we like to experience the local culture, sampling food, art, history and customs. It’s fascinating how much more we actually have in common with one another than we don’t. Art imitates life, and vice versa, in every language. Some pieces of art are certainly more inspirational than others.
Whether in Paris, Florence or Westerly, R.I., it’s always important to take in the arts; after all, earth, without art, is just… ‘eh‘!
We don’t always join formal tours, but there was one particularly noteworthy tour-guide that stood out while visiting Rome. While she has all the visual qualities of a “love at first site” kind of beauty, it was her sing-song voice and cadence over two days in the Historic Centre that cemented my shameless obsession. Her voice, so pure and angelic, has rendered me incapable of even recalling her name; I just like it when words fall out of her mouth. (Video to follow).
We call this “The Third Wheel Series”.
Okay! Sometimes there are photos that may make it appear it’s all about me.
But I usually have accomplices.
An occasional home improvement pic, compliments of our favorite contractor, Adam Kiess (Anything Adam).
Adam says, “Sure, we can work shoes into the proposal.”
Some shoe shots should not be published, perhaps.
And then there are the loving, non-syllabic gestures of friendship that cannot be forgotten. These are my people.
And honestly, the pic below – That’s Not Me! Photo contribution by Kevin Coughlin, whose internet search expertise is disturbingly legendary. Tinder material?
And finally, Whatsername. If you sound like this, there is a good chance I won’t remember your name.
Some bonus shots….