Blog Archives
everybody dance now
Look! I found the Sign-Faced Dancer that we’ve all heard about. And here I thinking it was just another mythical creature like a chupacabra or a mermaid.
Route 66
Chandler, Oklahoma
photographed 7.26.2026
I remain unconvinced
This place seems friendly enough, I guess, with a happy face sign AND the “stop and shop” request.
But there a couple of visual clues that makes me think the signs are misleading…
Route 66
Calumet, Oklahoma
photographed 7.26.2026
it was a rough century
Last night waiting on election returns sort of felt like a century.) (Until all of a sudden it didn’t…)
But that’s not what this post is about. This is about the fact that Route 66 is a hundred years old. And the fact that, in spite of parts of it* that were fancied up for the centennial, most of it is kitschy AF.
Oh, and also: if you’re in Edmond, Oklahoma, tomorrow night, be sure and stop by the Edmond Fine Arts Institute for the opening reception of The Other Side Project: A Photographic Road Trip through America’s Heart, featuring the work of the work of my collaborator VC Torneden and myself. We’ll be there from 5:00 – 7:00 pm and would love to see you. But be warned: we’ve been working together on this project for five years and have about a millions stories that we like to share. Wear comfortable shoes.
Edmond Fine Arts Institute is located at 27 E. Edwards Street. The show is presented by BancFirst. Thanks to both for their support of our project.
Route 66
McLean, Texas
photographed 7.27.2026
*The parts that were fancied up were sort of nice to begin with.
meanwhile, over on East 4th Street…
Last week I stood in line for a two or three hours to get in a rally with James Talarico and other candidates. It was worth it.
Last week I stood inside a crowded building for two hours to hear James Talarico and other candidates tell us about their visions for the state and the country. It was worth it.
Tomorrow is election day.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 10.27.2026
approaching gate 17
I took an Uber to the airport. My driver’s name was Shirley. Or maybe it was Sherry. At any rate, she was bat-shit crazy. Told me her “good” car had been in an accident* so she was driving her “back-up” car; said the steering wasn’t very good but that it would probably be OK. She told me there were litter boxes in classrooms in Austin because of the furries**. She told me she’d been a tomboy as a girl and that now “they” (it’s always “they”, isn’t it?) wanted to “slap penises on all the tomboys.”***
Her comments made the driver from the night before who’d told me he was a private investigator, which 100% seemed like a story he was making up as he went along, seem boring. And normal.
Anyway, when I got in the airport, I walked around for a few minutes to clear my head of all the Ubery bullshit I’d just heard. It didn’t really work: it’s now a couple of weeks later and I am still thinking about Shirley/Sherry and her, uh, thoughts on things.
San Antonio International Airport
San Antonio, Texas
photographed 10.10.2026
*Accident was not her fault. Of course. It never is.
**What?
***Again, what?
