I went through an old portable hard drive yesterday that had pictures from the turn of the century, back when I took pictures for fun. I took a lot of them. I was chronicling my life, for whatever reason we do such things, snapshots I always called them, but snapshots are the true chronicle of the world.
This is a fellow I knew from a famous old gym. He was just one of the number of crazy "characters" that I should write about. I was friends with them. They were a strange bunch living on the margins of society. This fellow was known by different names in different places for different purposes. He had a great punch and could knock a fellow out even though his hands were small. But that is for another time when I tell stories without pictures. I am not about to rat this fellow out in a public forum. Al those stories will have to be told as fictions, or at least with pseudonyms and without photographs. Like I said, I was friends with them and there is a code to which I must adhere.
This was taken with an old Nikon film camera. It was fully manual. Why are so many of my pictures taken when photography was more difficult more pleasing? I will probably post more.
I'll just say he ended up going to prison for a while because of another gym fellow who was trying to stay out. The story is on the tip of my tongue, but. . . .
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