Recently a friend loaned me his old camera, and I hadn't realized how much I've missed taking pictures at rock shows until then. The feeling, the enthusiasm, the energy were all back; I was actually getting excited about going out again.

About an hour before the show, the camera stopped working. I tried three different sets of freshly charged batteries. It just wouldn't turn on.

Naturally, the energy drained out of me immediately, as if someone unplugged a drain. I had to force myself to go, but I went only because I didn't want to spend the rest of the night moping and stewing.

So I'm left with this question/doubt: Am I addicted to photography? Or is it just what I need to make me want to get up in the morning again?

I've meant to post something new just to clear the last negative post from the top of the page.


Oreo's recovering nicely, despite new growths already appearing. He had a wonderful Independence Day in Michigan, where the fireworks were much less severe and he was much less stressed out.


By the way, speaking of fireworks, the fireworks display near Michiana Shores was probably the best display I've ever seen. Yes, Joey, it was even better than the ones on Leavitt and Augusta, not that those were particularly notable that I remember.

So I don't get to go out as much anymore, but it's okay because I'm spending more time with Oreo out on our back porch. My porch is awesome; it has a rare view of Chicago sunsets and another partial view of the Chicago skyline (five or six buildings worth). You should really come by for some grilling.

Oreo has cancer.