Sunday, October 29, 2006

the brooklyn bridge.

I've always had a problem with snapshots. This is because I'm a terrible snob. I'm a music snob. I'm a movie snob. I'm a food and wine snob. And I'm unrepentant because I LIKE The Clash. I LIKE "The Fog Of War." I LIKE the Venus Diner's coffee and pie.

Yeah. I'm a snob.

But think about it: YOU love the music YOU love. No one can tell you that Mr. Mister was a talented band. YOU love the movies YOU love. No one can tell you that "Titanic" is a great film. You, then, are a snob too. You just have to embrace it as I have, you freakin' snob, you.

Oh, yeah. I said it.

Anyhow, my snobbery, at times, is manifested in my approach to photography. Granted, I have no right to actually BE a snob. When it comes to photography I'm no Annie Leibowitz or Barry Goldwater. But that's what a snob does. A snob is blind. So I'm a blind photographer. (You'll soon agree.) I figure, when you're at a landmark known the world over, unless you're taking a picture of a friend or loved one, or you can calculate that you've got maybe ten good years left, at best, you probably ought to just buy the postcard. (In the case of the latter, you may want to take the snapshot AND buy the postcard. What? Don't look at me that way, you snob.)

This in mind, as I walked through Manhattan and Brooklyn today, I felt like a tourist. I wanted to tell people, "Look, I'm not like these other people. I'm from out of town and I'm taking pictures of famous New York landmarks with my camera, here. So then, you know... I'm... I'm not like these other people... See?"

In all the years I've visited New York, I've never once walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. I have no idea why. I guess it's never come up, really. So I thought today would be a good day to change that. I did, after all, have to visit Grimaldi's for lunch. (For those of you unfamiliar, Grimaldi's is arguably the best pizzeria in New York, if not the country — other than, of course, Pizzaiolo in Mt. Lebanon, PA. See? Snob.)

So below you'll find the fruits of my hunger and snobbery. And, yeah, I'm sure most who visit this blog will look at them and say, "Ew. This guy's no Barry Goldwater," but I like 'em. And it's my blog, so that's where I come down on the "ew-this-guy-isn't-Barry-Goldwater" argument.

There you have it. This is what I did yesterday.

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