As the dusk began to fall over the warm, sunny Tacoma sky and we continued to explore the industrial area just across the Tacoma Bridge. My wife kept asking “Do you smell that?” “It smells like shit.” After checking the bottom of my shoes and my tighty whities. I confidently replied “That’s horse shit.” Quickly and visibly puzzled, she cocked her head before asking “How do you know the difference between the smell of dog shit and horse shit?” Knowing an answer was required. I quickly replied “I grew up in New York City.” Despite that lingering smell and the questions of it’s origins. I really enjoyed my time under and around Tacoma Bridge.
While it’s seldom discussed outside the photographers circle. I am pretty sure there is something equivalent to a photographers boner. Though not thoroughly researched. I can assure you that there are a number of subjects that bring tingles to my lower parts. One of them is industrial photography and the kind that just might include a little trespassing. As someone who, at the age of seven considered construction sites part of his urban playground. I have a long history of being both physically and creatively drawn to industrial types of art, architecture and style.
Deciding to turn down a different street, take a different route and cross that bridge yesterday in Tacoma paid endless dividends. While we had already been having a stellar day of beautiful weather, good food, record shopping and coffee. The tail end of our visit, was by far the most rewarding. My eyes lit up as I spotted a collection of out of commission train cars just outside one of the industrial parks businesses. loudly urged “Stop.” “Stop.” “Stop the car.” As I jumped out of my seat toretrieve my camera from the trunk. Though I can’t wait to go back and further explore that particular area. I feel lucky to have a few worthwhile images to go home with.
Though our last several trips to Tacoma, Washington featured everything from sporadic rainfall to torrential downfall. This weekends attempt spared us of any such weather tantrums. Truth be told, I didn’t feel a drop until we walked back to our car to begin our voyage back to Seattle. During each prior trip to the area. My camera, perhaps due to the rain, never left the comfort of our cars trunk. Each time we’ve visited though, the talk of returning during dryer days to enjoy the areas personality and old world architecture.
If by any chance you find yourself in the area. Be sure to grab a bite at Alma Mater’s Honey on Fawcett Ave. Go crate digging at Hi- Voltage Records on nearby 6th Avenue. Window shopping on Antique Row and of course exploring City Hall and train station for starers. And while such sunny days may not show themselves anytime soon. During the times we’ve recently visited, all be it wet ones. We’ve seen enough to carve out a nice enough visit tht will surely endear us even more to an area we’ve come to love. Until then.
As we were driving in the pouring rain. I turned to my wife and asked if she preferred the year round rain of Seattle or the often bone chilling winters we got used to experiencing during our many years on the east coast. While I was almost certain of her answer. I was somewhat surprised by the break neck speed in which she answered. Considering the amount of time she spends complaining about the constant rain one has to get used to when living here. I can imagine her daydreaming about the bone chilling cold we endured while experiencing Christmas in Boston a few years ago.
xBeing that we’ve had to abort a Christmas visit to Portland Oregon and detour today’s drive to Olympia Washington today. I can relate to her frustration. Luckily, we decided to shorten today’s trip before it really started. Deciding to cut it somewhat short while filling up our gas tank at the local Costco. Though the rain would follow us on our reshaped visit to Tacoma. By the time we reached Broadway’s antique row, that rain seemed to dissipate to a few drops. I recall my wife commenting on how it was still raining as I began to retrieve my camera from the cars trunk. Just as I closed the trunk, the sky opened and began to pour rain down on my head as if the Gods were planning all along to exact revenge on me for all my recent fist shaking and thoughts of eternal damnation. Regardless of the weather or any vengeful acts by the Gods that be. We both love traveling and visiting Tacoma. We’ve promised to return under less threatening skies. Until then.
Before moving on to our final destination in Tacoma. We made a stop at Gig Harbor for breakfast at Devoted Kiss for some breakfast before taking a short break to explore the towns shops and adjacent harbor. We haven’t had a chance to visit Tacoma or Gig Harbor since Summer and were eager to experience the area as it fully embraced the holiday season. Overall, Gig Harbor has a nice small town feel and appeal. I can’t say enough about the service, hospitality and food Devoted Kiss served up. I’m sure there will be no hesitation to stop in the next time we find ourselves in the area.
As our Jersey City condo nears its closing date. The thought of moving back east in order to be closer to friends, family and loved ones looms large. Before deciding to take a job offer and move to Seattle, My wife left the door open to moving back to the area if life here didn’t live up to what we expected it to be. At the time, moving away from friends, family and an area I had lived the entirety of my life in, did not seem to concern me. The opportunity to live on another coast was paramount. Thus making our decision almost immediate. Visiting Seattle for the first time ever back in May and ultimately moving here in June. I was able to leave behind a lot of my worries, anxiety and stress and view life with a fresh and very different outlook. As we close in on a year here in Seattle. I can’t think of how the move has change me for the better. Sure, it rains a hell of a lot here and the area has it’s share of problems. However, my friends back East have been pummeled by one Nor’easter after another. All things considered, the idea of moving back to New York City or New Jersey doesn’t quite appeal to me as much as plotting a course for another city I’ve yet to experience or country whose cities and culture would be further explored. In some respects, the nomad spirit in me yearns for new adventures.