Alexis Rankin Popik's Blog

MY SECOND RETIREMENT

Mac, my canine nephew

My first retirement occurred in about 1994, when I stopped working for a salary and began work as a full-time mom and part-time writer. From then until now I have published a couple of short stories and Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate, a full-length novel about manic depression.  In 2013 I began posting this weekly blog—now there are 400 of them— as a way to publicize the book. For my efforts, I not only sold books but also met a bunch of great people online.  The blog has not only made new friends for me but also kept me in touch with old friends, too.  It has been fun and now I want to move on to the next phase—a kind of second retirement.  I want to return to making masks—something I once took up and truly miss.

Ganesh–my second mask.

BUT THERE’S MORE:  For any of you who now and then want to know what’s on my mind and tell me what’s on yours, email me at alexis.popik@gmail.com.  I will respond via email, not on the Word Press blog site.  The site will remain online for now.

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!

MONDAY MORNING MADNESS

PHOTO OF BELLA SMILING BY SARA RANKIN

Some days it’s difficult to come up with topics for the Monday blog.  This (Sunday) is one of those days.  When that happens, I turn to the news (the lighter side of the news—no one needs my opinion on the dark stuff).  Today the internet was chock full of madness you may have missed:

Featured in CNN Style:

At a recent exhibition, an unknown art collector accidentally kicked the pedestal holding a piece of Jeff Koons glass sculpture (Balloon Dog) valued  at forty-two thousand dollars, reducing it to shards on the gallery’s floor.

Journalist Heather Radke has just published a book entitled Butts:  A Backstory. Of course, Kim Kardashian is featured, along with a more serious treatment of the role of female butts in history (something never “covered” in my history classes.).

And these weird headlines from Sky News:

US patient develops ‘uncontrollable Irish accent’ after cancer diagnosis.

Woman accused of murder and mutilating corpse in Wisconsin attacks her lawyer in court.

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Among other responses to last week’s blog, Shirley V. wrote:  “I love it. I’m sitting here this morning quietly thinking. I love quiet. Especially after our rowdy Super Bowl gathering. I’ve been purging but I love my things (framed pictures and knick knacks that have meaning).  I’m trying but I have a long way to go. [Me too!]

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!

CATS AND WEATHER

CATMAN the 1st SF BAY AREA HILLS

(Actually, this isn’t about cats but if I put the word “cats” in the heading, I get many, many more “clicks” and that’s very satisfying.)  Thank you for reading this blog!  

Now, on to weather…On Saturday morning I was checking out the weather in the San Francisco Chronicle before scheduling an hour-long hike and came across a piece of lyrical writing by Michelle Apon and Gerry Diaz, meteorologists with a gift for prose.  Here’s a sample from Saturday’s news:

San Francisco :  “For the first time in several days, mostly cloudy weather will give way to a fair share of sunshine across the city today….This mild, tropical-like air will stem from a distant storm off the coast.  The comfortable weather will be a nice reprieve from the platitudinous dispensations of rainfall over the past couple of weeks.

East Bay: A dry start to the day is on tap for residents along the I-80/I-880 corridors….Winds will gently blow from the south Saturday morning, steadily raising temperatures to the upper 50s to lower 60s by the afternoon while also moistening up the atmosphere. Residents in the hills may catch patches of virga — ghostly clouds with streaks coming out of them — before rain eventually makes it to the ground after 3 p.m.”

Unfortunately, the forecast was a bit off—as forecasts often are—and the 10:30 a.m. hike I took was interrupted by drizzle but, as Apon and Diaz might have written, “Gentle breezes and light showers will reward morning walkers who have not yet styled their hair, adding a bit of much-needed moisture to newly processed blonde tresses.” 

To those of you who are currently in the grip of really, really cold weather:

HAVE A GOOD OR AT LEAST A WARMER WEEK!

PHOTOS: THE GOOD, THE BAD & THE BUSY

Good photography isn’t as simple as it might seem.  On our recent photo adventure to the Antarctic Peninsula, the 12 of us who were part of Juan Pons Photography’s group got together for our initial meeting and each of us said a little about our photography experience.  I explained that I took up photography a few years ago as a way to deal with the boredom of watching my spouse take photos for hours.  I added that what I lack in skill I compensate for with my ability to tell a story with a photo. 

Several times during the three-week trip we met to discuss one photo each of us submitted.  I learned a great deal about choice of subject, depth of field, editing (but not too much editing) and, of course, light. And I was in awe of the “eye” and skill of others in our group. What I came to realize is that National Geographic is never going to hire me.  Here’s why:

I thought this photo I took at St. Andrews Bay was hilarious because while these two giant males are growling, shoving, and biting each other’s throats, the penguins, gulls and even an already-bloodied male sea lion are standing and lying around as if a life-and-death struggle is just another day at the beach. These male Southern Sea Lions can weigh as much as 8,800 lbs. and fight as if they are willing to die for the privilege of mating with a female sea lion.  However, that’s not true. According to antarcticaguide.com “Fights between male Elephant seals are actually quite rare as most of the males can size each other up before the fight and work out which male will win.”

“The dominant male is called the “Beach Master” and can amass a harem of 50 females.” I love this sentence:  “Males will usually only have one season as beach master. This is because the constant stress, wakefulness, fighting and hunger means males cannot keep it up for a second season.”

One of the reasons my photo could be better is that it is cluttered.  The drama (such as it is) is between the two males.  The bloody male in the foreground and oblivious King Penguins detract from the main event:  the two giants sparring.  Look at it this version:

It’s better. You can focus on these two bozos and their meaningless encounter. And remember: the winner will be too tired to be the Master of the Beach next year. It hardly seems worth the trouble–which is a good reason to take photos for my own amusement and NatGeo will just have to find a more serious photographer.

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM A LITTLE BOY WHO CAN’T PRONOUNCE

CHRISTMAS, HANUKKAH OR KWANZAA

SPARKLE CATS AND THE BEAUTIFUL GAME

Photo by Rhett Lewis via Unsplash

The Sparkle Cats is my granddaughter’s soccer team of 13-year-old girls in Oakland, California who have been playing together since they were in First Grade.  They have progressed from fixing each other’s hair while in midfield to fearlessly smashing at full speed into members of the opposite team.  It’s not beautiful but it’s impressive.

In our house, we are watching the World Cup:  twenty-nine days during which our daily schedules depend on which team is playing when.  As I write this, it is halftime in the Brazil-Serbia game.  I will be happy with the outcome, no matter what.  As a Croatian by heritage, I understand that there is no love lost between the Serbians and the Croatians but this is the World Cup—a different battlefield. I am not making light of the shameful behavior now and over the centuries that we humans practice in the name of god and country, but I am happy to take a break and watch people from all over the world dressed in goofy outfits laughing and cheering for amazingly skillful players at the contest called “The Beautiful Game.”

Years ago I asked my Brazilian hairdresser (we were watching the World Cup while he dealt with my roots) why soccer is called “The Beautiful Game.”  He looked at me like I was crazy.“Because it’s beautiful,” he replied.  That was pre-Wikipedia.  You can read the definition here, but my hairdresser was more succinct and reliable.  

Apparently I missed most of the Cats’ games this year because at their final contest, which I did attend, most of them were unrecognizable.  No longer skinny little girls, they are eighth graders clearly in their “tweens”— at different stages of physical development, more coordinated, focussed on the game and connected to each other.  It was beautiful to see.

DID SOMEBODY ASK ABOUT PENGUINS?

PENGUINS AT ST. ANDREWS BAY, SO. GEORGIA ISLAND

I was rather amazed at the response to last week’s blog about penguins. It seems that lots and lots of people love them. They are certainly comical–but loveable?–I’m reserving judgment. (They smell really bad.) Here are some unedited photos I took in the five hours we spent at this wonderful site.

For some reason–maybe because they so often perch on hard surfaces–penguins tend to rock back on their crusty black feet.

King Penguin chicks need to lose their warm brown coats and grow waterproof feathers before they can leave the colony to forage for themselves at sea. In the meantime, they depend on their parents for food. The process takes a year and until the waterproof feathers grow, the sound of begging chicks fills the air…

and it gets pretty noisy.

The penguin parents are impressively patient despite all the prodding from their offspring.

You have to wonder what this penguin had in mind.

Keep these two bloodied southern elephant seals in mind for next week. It’s an exciting story.

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!

PENGUINS, PENGUINS, AND MORE PENGUINS

PENGUINS OFTEN HANG OUT IN LARGE GROUPS.

“Did you see any penguins?”  That is the first thing people ask when they learn I have just returned from Antarctica.  Friends, did I see penguins!  Yes, there was ice in many shapes, sizes and colors; there were “bergiebits,” too, plus glaciers, whales, leopard seals and all kinds of birds, but by far the most numerous, loudest and stinkiest features of the Antarctic Peninsula at this time of year are the penguins.  I have not downloaded the photos from my “real” camera yet, so for this week, iPhone shots will have to do.  While stumbling around in the snow, it was often easiest to use it for quick pics of the goofy penguins.

THEY ALSO SEEM TO HAVE PRIVATE CHATS.THEY ARE NOT AFRAID TO LOOK RIDICULOUS

[image error]OR TO MAKE STRIKING PATTERNS IN THE SNOW

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!

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HANGIN’ WITH THE COOL CROWD

Photo by Dierdre. Corcoran Foote via Unsplash

If you read my previous blog, you will know where I am for the next few weeks. I will be back with with what I hope are some interesting photos and stories of life at the ends of the earth.

I’ll “see” you in early November.

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FEAR AT THE END OF THE EARTH

Photo by moi, South Georgia Island, circa 2014

In a few weeks I am embarking on a guided photo trip to Antarctica. I am not the at all worried about the issues my friends raise:  the long plane trip(s) to get there, the accommodations at the end of the earth, the cold, the lack of communication with the outside world, etc., etc.  My concern is (and there is no way to put this delicately) toilets.

Altogether there will be about 100 passengers on the ship.  When possible, we will be walking on land or cruising around in Zodiacs (a kind of rubber boat that is safer than it looks) in the morning and again in the afternoon for 3-4 hours per excursion.  I have never gone 3-4 hours without needing a bathroom and I dread the prospect of trekking around a barren landscape with 100 strangers, needing to bare my assets in their company. This is when penis envy doesn’t seem so absurd.

There are a couple of solutions to this problem.  One is to slog back to the landing spot and take the next Zodiac back to the ship, use the facilities there, and return to land.  This takes about 45 minutes and seems like the situation better be pretty darn urgent to use up that much of our time on land.

The second solution is to feign nonchalance and just go for it, making sure to be the last person at the back of the group.  On previous trips I have teamed up with other desperate women and even one man (you know who you are)  and made some lasting friendships this way.  There are easier ways to make friends, but they take longer.

There is no graceful way to (ahem) end up this little essay, so I’m going leave it at that.  

HAVE A GOOD WEEK!