Seattle Photo-The King Of Pulp Fiction & She’s A Good Girl, Apple Pie, 4th Of July…

If you were a kid at the right time, you caught snatches of detective shows on T.V; maybe without having ever watched a full episode.

Columbo seemed rumpled but classy, deceptively ensnaring his prey. Magnum P.I. drove a Ferrari and had a friend with a helicopter. Matlock was clearly for the Olds.

One night, we caught an episode of Stacy Keach as Mike Hammer. The intro screen advertised ‘Mickey Spillane’s’ Mike Hammer.

Intrigued by a rumor filtered down from the adults, my brother grabbed a phone book. Mickey Spillane’s listed. He lives nearby.

‘It’s ringing.‘ He says.

‘Mr Spillane? I just wanted to say we’re here watching Mike Hammer and we’re nearby and we really like it.’

Yes.‘ my brother says. ‘Sure.’

Thank you Mr. Spillane.

The photo below reminds me of a poster for a knock-off T.V. detective.

I’m strolling by and see a single shaft of weak light falling though a Pioneer square bar. It’s falling right on this gentleman on the corner seat. He sees me seeing him.

Should I take the shot?

I raise my camera and start snapping away as I walk towards the entrance (me and God/the Gods are working this behavior out).

There’s absolutely nothing funny about Telly Savalas playing Kojak as reported by Norm MacDonald to Jerry Seinfeld, shattering naive fictions in solving a T.V. crime-drama:

Seattle Photos-Safe & Sound

Wishing you and yours the best.

It was once a place to collect and eat shellfish. It used to be a staging area for Alaska.

Despite the winter chill, sometimes you can feel hundreds of miles of cool, clean air coming in off the Pacific.

Seattle Photos-Wall & City

All photos are in-camera. Nikon Z6 with a 24-200 mm lens.

No AI, as some people have asked. New AI tools to create and manipulate images are coming fast, however.

For me, photography is mostly about experience; noticing people and engaging with the world through the lens.

Thanks for looking.

Seattle Photo & A Poem By Edmund Waller-

Old Age

The seas are quiet when the winds give o’er; 
So calm are we when passions are no more. 
For then we know how vain it was to boast 
Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. 
Clouds of affection from our younger eyes
Conceal that emptiness which age descries. 


The soul’s dark cottage, batter’d and decay’d, 
Lets in new light through chinks that Time hath made: 
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
As they draw near to their eternal home.
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view 
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

Edmund Waller