Wrecking Ball

Now when all this steel and these stories, they drift away to rust


And all our youth and beauty, it's been given to the dust


And your game has been decided,

and you're burning the clock down


And all our little victories and glories, have turned into parking lots

When your best hopes and desires, are scattered through the wind


And hard times come, hard times go

Bring on your Wrecking Ball

Bruce Springsteen

Wrecking Ball

It was likely the last farmers market of the season, late October in Wilkes-Barre. The mean streets of Wilkes-Barre is what I tell people when they ask where I’m from. It’s a joke that’s mostly for me and lost on those that happen to have inquired and have never been to the valley. They weren’t mean streets then and despite the local news that doesn’t have much to report, I don’t suspect they’re much meaner these days. We were in town for a visit, my sister and I. Ella was on for the ride as school was in fall break. There was no occasion and no set itinerary. It was a Thursday and that’s when they have the Farmers Market on Public Square in downtown Wilkes-Barre. Not the kind of run-to-car-in-anticipation kind of event, but it would do for this afternoon. Downtown is much the same as it always was. My memory and nostalgia indian-wrestle in my head as I try to sort through the old stomping grounds. What was where and how did this turn into that. Where is my old YMCA and wasn’t that Starbucks a Woolworths? That clock hasn't worked since the late eighties. Is there really a nightclub now that has an evening dedicated to bikini bull-riding and dollar Rolling Rocks?

We walked through the market and it was warm with just enough bite in the air to remind you it was almost November. We looked at crafts and ate potato pancakes and carried on out of there. I wanted a coffee and had a choice of Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts and I chose Dunkin’ Donuts as I often do. We browsed a record store and were on our way home.

There was some debate as to how to drive home. This was normal and everyone had an opinion, but we ended up on Wilkes-Barre Blvd. My folks-family-of-four and Ella and her new dog Ringo driving along through the mean streets of Wilkes-Barre. I looked over to the Murray complex where I worked for a couple summers in college, and they were tearing it down. A huge wrecking ball was just then winding up like a great big metal sling-shot. What came out of my mouth then went something like this. “Ohhhh, Look, Wow, Neat!” I said it like it was one word. It was immediate and squealed with as much enthusiasm as any 10 year old. They all looked on cue and watched as the wrecking ball brought down an upper story of the old industrial complex. More Ohhs and Wows and Neats followed.

I suggested that since we didn’t have anything to do, we stop briefly and take a look. There was some discussion as to where to stop. I suggested just pulling into the back of the AAA parking lot. It’s now a pharmacy, I was corrected. Fine, pull into the pharmacy parking lot. We did and we watched the show for the next 10-15 minutes. It was like we were at the drive-in. My dad opened the sun-roof on the Jeep and Ella poked her head out. Soon she had her elbows rested on the roof of the car and her feet dangling on the floor of the backseat and just a minute or two after that she was outside completely and resting comfortably on the roof of the Jeep. We had the oldies station on and settled in for some free entertainment.

The last time I had been in that building was with my parents for a Flea Market. That’s what they turn everything into around here just before it dies. The place was as awful as it was depressing. The building leaked and wasn’t fit for a ghost then and that was almost 10 years ago.

I said I used to work at that complex when it was a restaurant. My Dad laughed and said he used to work at the wire company as a runner when he was a kid. This wasn’t just one building, but an entire lot of 13 buildings that were built at the turn of the 20^th century. It was a wire and cable company. They manufactured cable and rod for just about everything including the coal mines. My Mom informed us that that’s where my Grandfather worked for most of his career. He sold that cable to the local mines. My sister didn’t interject. She was out of the car at this point and twirling her hair and running through something in her own head. Probably writing a piece just like this one. I’ve been meaning to ask her what she was thinking about, but I haven’t yet.

That was it. I’d say we watched them smack the shit out of that building about 20-25 times. We wondered why they didn’t just implode it. We wondered what sort of mall consumer-friendly piece of crap they’d turn it into. I thought of the song that I heard for the first time at the Springsteen show just two nights before. Wrecking Ball. He sang it for the Spectrum that will be torn down this winter. Like the song, this wasn't nostalgic. Buildings come and go and it is what it is. The landscape changes.

As we got the kid off the roof of the jeep and were getting ready to go, we kept hesitating. This next hit is going to be a good one. Wait, this one is going to bring down the entire side. There was a chain-linked fence between us and the demolition crew. They thought we were jacked out of our mind, but we didn’t give a shit.

We took a left hand turn out of the pharmacy, (formally the local automobile club) and headed up the hill. We all smelled the Nardon Brothers Pizza coming from the bakery across from the demolition site. I asked if that was the same pizza we had in High School. My Mom said that was the same pizza they had in high school. We all agreed it was pretty lousy despite eating thousands of those tiny square meals. We sat at the red light for a couple minutes as I took some pictures of me and Ringo in the side-view mirror. My Dad pointed out the Turkey Hill Convenience Store as he often does. "That place just got held up again at gunpoint last week. This city is going to Hell." The light turned green and we headed up Hazel Street and turned left onto Blackman and out of the mean streets of Wilkes-Barre.

My Niece Ella, The Monkey Girl

Monkey Girl from Jim Harris Images on Vimeo.

Joey's World Series Crisis

My buddy Joe is a Yankees fan. He always has been. He had the posters and pennants on his bedroom wall growing up. His Dad was a Yankees fan. This fan loyalty thing is mostly hereditary so I've never held it against him. Joe went to Penn and has lived in Philly ever since. He's a sports fan so he couldn't help but follow the Phillies. Through all the crappy teams of the last 15 years. Then something happened in recent years. The Phils put together a very good and likable team... even won a World Series.

In recent years I've seen a couple games with Joe. I got my first foul ball with Joe. We won a game used baseball bat by Shane Victorino in a raffle last year. And by we I mean Joe. I was one number off. Joe's kids are growing up Phillies fans. The Phillie Phanatic showed up at his sons 5th birthday. I posted that on my Studio blog. With his Yankee upbringing he's been both positive and encouraging in regard to the Phillies success.

Joe had a conversation with his five year old, Nicholas, about team loyalty on the day of the Phanatic appearance. Nicholas asked his Dad if he was a Phillies fan. Joe said "yes, of course." Nicholas asked, "Well, what about the Yankees?" Joe explained as best he could that Daddy liked both teams, different leagues, etc. Nicholas told his Dad that he just likes the Phillies and asked if it was okay that he just had one favorite team. Joe assured him that that was just fine.

Now I haven't spoken to Joe today about the Phillies/Yankees match-up, but he did mention a couple weeks ago that he was a little concerned. He didn't know what he'd do. It's easy enough to root for two teams through the season when they are in different leagues. I don't watch the American League much. It may as well be hockey through most of the summer. I start watching around playoff time. Joe's got a decision to make and I don't think it's going to be something he consciously decides. It will happen all by itself. When the bases are loaded and the team is down a run with two outs, Joe will be rooting for a team. There's no fence-walking in World Series baseball. Hopefully if he's really stuck, he'll ask his five year old.

Bacon Brothers and the Mummers

Just a quick follow up to the post earlier this summer. The Bacon Brothers released their song New Years Day to benefit the Mummers and the New Years Day Parade. I think there is a DVD coming out as well with a documentary of the day. I've added my slide show of the recording session. I haven't added the Bacon Brothers song, but if you want to hear it or buy it it's here.

The picture above on the cover art is one that I took that afternoon. They had a CD release at our little record store on Main Street in Manayunk this past weekend. I was supposed to shoot it, but had a wedding. Strangely they didn't reschedule the event around my photography schedule.

Bacon Brothers and Mummers Record New Years Day from Jim Harris Images on Vimeo.

Charlie and the Corn Chips

"I like it," Phillies manager Charlie Manuel said of the tense, four-hour-long 6-5 victory. Even when I hate it, I like it. It tests you. That's what the game is all about. It's exciting, but in some ways it's not too good."
Sometimes you need an interpreter to weed through a Charlie Manual interview, but ultimately he gets right to the heart of the matter with that West Virginia accent. The Skipper was an easy target here in Philadelphia for a couple of years. When he was asked once about the folks here not liking him, he replied something along the lines of, "There are plenty of people that like me in other places, so that's okay." Now someday there will be a statue of Charlie Manual at the ballpark. I'd almost bet on it.

I met Charlie when I took these pictures above at this years ALS charity event. The stuck him in the dugout,,,in the sun for about 4 hours for photos with fans. I wasn't taking those fan photos, I just needed to get something of him for ALS. I was trying to be quick and discrete, but Charlie was set on trying to help me get this shot with this little girl while she was intent on sharing her corn chips with Uncle Charlie. I watch this team for those 162 games a year, and a lot of the post game interviews that come with them too, but sometimes you get sense of someone's disposition in just a brief personal interaction.

Penn State/Iowa...and Beer Pong

Not in my wildest imagination did I anticipate a weekend so dominated by my new favorite sport... Beer Pong. We never did get tickets for the rain drenched Penn State/Iowa game and I think we ended up being the lucky ones in the end. It was a messy weekend, but still great to spend some time with family. My cousin not only introduced me to some great people, but they in turn introduced us to Beer Pong. I was surly aware of it's existence, but it wasn't in full rage during my college years and I had never played. I am now considering going back to school just to play more pong.

I only took about 40 pictures all weekend which is unusual for me. Every single one of them was taken around the Beer Pong table. Thanks to Jeff and Lisa for hosting us and Mugger's friends Freddy and Amy and their folks (Bill and Barbara) for sharing their hospitality and their new RV.

Here is a link to the pictures.

Magnificent Gift

Earlier this summer I had a gathering to commemorate my 40th birthday. We rented a place in western Pa next to a river and invited everyone I knew. We played beanbags, drank Yuenglings and sat around a campfire. It was everything I needed for a good ol' fashioned birthday blowout. I wasn't thinking too much about presents. In fact, I requested that in lieu of gifts I would prefer if the dudes grew mustaches. I figured it would be more entertaining and most obliged and it was in fact very funny. The women would not be excluded and brought their own mustaches.
I put together a slide show if you haven't seen it.


So I guess what I'm getting at is that a gift or present wasn't on my radar that day. I was more caught up with getting my itunes arranged and where to buy a half keg of Yuengling deep in the hollers of Western PA...and would a half keg be enough...

I think that is why this gift from my family was all the more special. My immediate family chipped in and purchased a VIP package for Kristen and I to see U2 in Boston. Previous to this weekend I had been chirping off that U2 had for some reason bypassed Philadelphia on the first leg of their new tour. Kristen was on pins and needles for a couple weeks prior just hoping that I wouldn't get it in my head to road trip to see U2.

The gift was a tremendous surprise. Didn't see it coming. Not even close. The party and the actual Boston road trip were great bookends to the summer. I could get used to the VIP treatment at the big shows. Parking 50 yards from the entrance and not having to pay the $40 fee was our first indication that we were in for a very pleasant day. In addition to being only 18 rows back and having a birds-eye view of the new 360 degree stage, there was also a VIP party before the show. We had an all-you-can-eat buffet and an open bar and met some great people along the way. One of which somewhat knew my cousin from Penn State.

The coolest thing about these shows is that there is no imagined community here. People are there for the same exact thing and most have been doing this for 20 or 30 years. I get to reflect on how long I've been listening to this band and all the bookmarks jammed into the chapters of my life. It's no joke.

Like most folks I saw them first at Live Aid in 1985. I didn't know what I saw, but it resonated with me. It was my Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show. I had 8 distorted hours of Live Aid on a VHS tape for years at my folks house. I watched the U2 performance about 100 times. I'd toss it in every once in while to revisit until one day I came home from college and when I went to watch it, I found it replaced by a Penn State/Michigan game. U2 at Live Aid was gone. There was no Youtube, Napster etc. There was no commercial release of the show until about 3 years ago. Now with Youtube it's at your fingertips all the time.

I'd say it was about 1986 I was working at Acme Market as a cashier. My first job and I had to wear a tie and some type of smock with a name tag on it. With their label maker I punched in The Edge on my name tag. I still have it somewhere. It made for some interesting dialogue. I'd ask the old ladies if they wanted paper or plastic and they'd reply, "we don't care for the plastic bags, they hurt our hands and fall over when you set them on the table, we'll have paper. Thank you, The Edge."

I went to college and put a couple u2 posters on my dorm wall along with them on the cover of Time magazine. I still have them somewhere too. A bunch of friends from my dorm went to the Joshua Tree Tour at Three Rivers Stadium in the Fall of 1987. I squinted from the 700 level in deep deep center field. Bono had his arm in a cast from falling the night before from some scaffolding. It was my first real concert. It was a cold night and I had bad skin and bad hair and my fathers army jacket on that would later be stolen at a frat party. I saw every u2 tour since then except one while we were in LA cause I was out of work and broke as a joke. We were in Philly when they returned the next time around. I took Kristen for the first time and we hit the pit lottery and saw them from the first row. The next time we saw them they brought out Bruce Springsteen and his wife to do a song. I yelped like a little school girl.

In my confirming belief that good people find good people, I tend to give u2 credit for meeting one of my best friends. I think it was the summer of '93 when I met my buddy Mika from Finland. We were at a mutual friends gathering and he was mulling about like a Fin out a water with a rather befuddled look on his face. He had a 'how'd I get here' look on his face which wasn't uncommon for International students who ended up in Indiana, Pennsylvania. I'd seen it a number of times and I may have chuckled and carried on, but this dude had a u2 t-shirt on. We talked about the tours and how his friends sent him off the night before with a party and the Zooropa CD. We were fast friends and dumped a lot of bills in the Coney Island jukebox playing Achtung Baby over the next couple years. Mika just called me this morning to tell me they're buying extra u2 tix for next summers Helsinki stop...whether we make it over there or not. This isn't the first time he's done that.

So yeah, that's all I got. Those are the highlights. The trip to Boston was another bookmark. As mentioned we met some more good people and I did the best I could with my point and shoot camera. I'd again like to thank those that gave us this thoughtful gift. My folks, Kristen's folks, Aunt Gummy and Uncle Weiner, Megan and Bill, AJ and Tiffany, Tibby and Mugger and Michelle. You guys rock.