2009 Comes Out Swinging

Well, let's get the ironic bit out of the way first.

As indicated previously I love getting about and seeing things happen - occasionally being a part of them, making no claims to any kind of objectivity or reportorial detachment.

This compulsion led me out into the cold very close to Midnight and the change of the year.  The plan was to phone from the square as the numbers changed, saying "hello" to C.

Which would have worked had I remembered to bring my phone.  Obviously I was too concerned with getting my camera in my pocket to pocket my phone.

So the moment passed, as so many do.  

This did leave me free to wander around the center of town, behind the Art Museum to see its circle of magic stones, though the wrought-iron gate that only led me back onto the street and not to the usual strange places it has before.  Even magic portals (there are several in the city, which I'll write about at some point) seemed to be shut down because of the cold.

And thus back to Bosnia, the empty lot next to Geno's Rock Bar.  My intention was to brave the Usual Crowd of Smokers, stop in and wave at J.R., the owner, and a couple of the bouncers, big guys like me.

Us big guys need to stick together.

But the Usual Crowd of Smokers suddenly billowed out in front of me, flowing toward me along the icy sidewalk.  More came out of the door and we all gave room.  I tried to dash past but the footing was too risky, too many feet were mushing the snow into soup.

Then the doors flew open again and a couple of guys fell through, locked in combat, hugging with one arm, sucker-punching with the other.  They stood in the doorway for a moment, a violent tableaux and then dragged each other back into the warmth of Geno's foyer.

Hell, I'd hate to be bleeding in that kind of cold too.  I don't blame them for heading back inside.

I had to get across the street and barely made it before two cars full of PPD officers arrived, lights flashing.

Needless to say my first shot had a flash and I was instantly on the police radar - fortunately I managed to get my camera hidden and assume my best "no-one here but us chickens" face - not easy to do in a subzero windchill.  The next shot used the "underwater" setting and is posted above.

Oh, just like the end of "Casey At the Bat" I am aware that I had friends dancing delicious tangos in Montreal, enjoying the Winter Carnival in lovely surroundings.  Other friends were home with beloved animals and a cold beer.  Yet others were at hot jam sessions near the Empire Dine and Dance or home tucking grandchildren into bed after celebrating the New Year with them.

I was standing on a corner taking pictures of the outside of a bar fight.

So the immediate evidence suggests that in 2009 my life may well be the "wild Indian" saga that it's always been, that I'll wind up investigating magic doorways and gritty incidents rather than doing things that make other people feel safe with me.

Maybe the difference is that I'm not going to worry about it anymore.

At least, not for now.