a photographer talks

Sunday, January 25, 2009

My photo of the Rolling Stones Apr 26, 1965

There are good and bad things about getting old. Now I am not talking about old enough to drive or drink or fuck,  that may seem old at the time but that's young. I am talking old.  
Some of the bad things are legion. 
Hair, now there's one men my age don't have it but I have always liked some skin heads ( not the neo ones) so that's neither here nor there. Comb overs I don't like.
I hate, really hate the words "back in the day." If there was only one day then I wouldn't be old eh?
I hate not smoking and still having morning voice, not that there is anyone around to hear, I have a deaf cat. But I talk out loud to myself so I hear it mmmm....
I talk out load to myself, that might be an other sign of being old and it is not bad when I am alone, but in public????
I guess at any age friends die but it starts to add up.
My hands look like my mother's hands, hi Mom every time I look at them. 
I have some blue spider veins on my legs, and come to think of it they look like tattoos so maybe not so bad.
People finely open doors for me unless I have my leather jacket on.
I never know what colour to put down as hair colour, grey sounds so old platinum sounds nice.
I have seen a fuck of a lot of good bands.

1 comment:

  1. Bev - did you shoot the punk calendar sometime back in 1978-79? (I still have it!!!)

    I think DOA and some of the other bands (whoever is still alive) should hold a Geriatric Punk Party, and you'd have to be, oh, I don't know, say, at least 35 years old to get in.