As I was cruising through rural Missouri, from Appleton City to Golden City, with Cooky's Cafe on my mind, I saw a building off the road and wanted a photo. I liked the way the shadows were hitting the porch and loved it's pristine condition.
I had to turn in "town" and go back to the park to ... uh ... park.
I grabbed a couple of cameras I was playing with, a Soviet era FED5 and an antique Kodak Brownie Bullet, and walked toward the house.
There was a lady across the street and up the way a bit eying me, so I thought I'd be polite and ask permission.
"Can I get a picture?" I shouted.
"What?" she replied cupping her ear.
"CAN I GET A PICTURE?" I yelled louder as she came closer.
"Why would you want to do that?" she asked.
"I drive around the country and take pictures with old cameras...for fun...it's my hobby," I tried to explain.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: She didn't have many teeth.
"I know the owners," she persisted.
"I'm not trying to cause problems, I just like the house and want to take a few shots of it," I continued.
"It's not a house, it's a church."
"I just like the church and want to take a few shots of it," I said, correcting my earlier statement.
"I don't care," she said as she walked off.
Thinking the interaction was over, I started shooting the place. I got a few with the FED5 and a few with the Brownie Bullet. Then I grabbed one of my Nikkormats and took a few. I have more than I need, no question.
As I was walking back to the truck she came across the street with pen and paper, wanting my name and number.
I pulled out my card and handed it to her. "If the police come asking about me, just give them this," I told her as loaded my cameras and headed out, looking forward to the piece of pie that was waiting for me at Cooky's.
I'm just a guy who finds the world an interesting place and likes to capture certain moments with a camera. They aren't for sale, or anything. I just like them. Well, usually. I've taken a lot of photos I don't like, as well.
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They say “you can’t go back.” Well, I just did it. I threw a few clothes in a bag, packed some cameras and film, put on my boots, my hat, and headed south toward Lamar, Missouri in my ‘96 Ford F-150 with Biggie in the back seat.
Day Seven: It was 26 degrees in Gallup as I pulled out of the El Rancho Hotel parking lot, and I had the frost on my windows to prove it. After a couple of lousy cups of free lobby coffee I was off...next stop Tucumcari.
What is it with Kooky’s Road Trips and wrecks on the first night?I had JUST posted that this one is dedicated to an awareness of our mortality and there he was, lying in the middle of the highway that runs through Kingman, Kansas, his crumpled bike a few yards away.
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