With all the focus on Occupy Wall Street these days, I felt like pointing out that there is a block in midtown where the people are even greedier if you can believe that. On West 47th Street I always get a very weird and creepy feeling as I walk down the block. I feel like all the men trying to usher me into their little shops are fucking creatures, barely human. Money has left them so stripped of any other quality worth mentioning. I see no saving grace for any of the merchants who pander to people in love, and then sell them shiny little pebbles as a symbol of true love. I have always hated the whole concept of diamonds and wondered how they have managed to mesmerize so many generations of women into craving them…
I stopped for a second and then split, nausea building up inside me. I felt the same way in Vegas, and barely spent an hour there…
I was driving through Philadelphia in 1995, delivering a package for a messenger company when on the radio, the announcer said “#2 Derek Jeter” for the first time. His Yankee debut had been talked about for quite some time and he was considered a can’t miss prospect. All the experts were right. A scout for the Astros, Hal Newhouser quit the Astros when the owner decided to NOT draft Derek with the first pick in the draft. His selection was one of the easiest picks in sports history.
Despite all the great games and all the accomplishments that he has had the privilege of accomplishing in pinstripes, I hope he doesn’t play out his contract. After his 3,000 hits, unless he bounces back to hit at least .280 and with a touch of power, he should ride off into the sunset gracefully like very few athletes have done in the past. I’m not ready to write him off today, but he has to make it back to playing like a star and not hitting into a double play every time he comes to the plate. Some will say that we owe him at least that much after all he’s done for us. It’s hard to feel that way during a depression when many of us are scraping by and at 17 million dollars per year, Derek has become a “Punch & Judy” hitter. Anyway, I’m guessing he has sold more #2 jerseys than any athlete except Michael Jordan over the past fifteen years, and more than any baseball player ever has. The New York Yankees may owe him, but do we?
It’s been wonderful, but now it’s time to put up or shut up…
Update: He did have a game for the ages and went 5 for 5 getting his 3,000th hit with a solo shot off of David Price, a quality pitcher. I think the naysayers (myself included) will cut Derek a little slack for at least a few weeks…
Well, what can I say? He had an extremely productive year and had 213 hits! The guy is a force of nature and played much better than I ever imagined a 38 year old guy could…Live and learn.
As I continue to search my older negatives, the overall feeling I get from the New York of twenty years ago is pretty depressing. This might be one of the better portraits I’ve done. It’s a sad one. Not as bad as the images we’ve all seen from third world countries, but this is New York and a twelve year old boy shouldn’t be out late at night training to become a squeegee man…
Street Photography © Matt Weber
different interest rate,
© Matt Weber
© Matt Weber
On a few occasions I’ve seen this fellow making deposits of his day’s take. He meticulously counts every penny and then brings his “$73.62” to the teller. I’m sure he’s not the only homeless person who has somehow set up a bank account, but according to the guy running the newsstand on the same corner, he’s saved over $200,000! I hope that’s true…