david schrott is everywhere

2014

Posted in Fine Living Lancaster, Personal Work by thebreakfastdictator on 02/23/2015

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Kansas City: too much city for one state.

Posted in daily life by thebreakfastdictator on 10/05/2014

He wears boots and you can see the blue jeans sneak just below the bottom of the cassock. He chants Saturday evening’s Great Vespers gorgeously. Afterwards, there is a short meet and greet and his red flannel shirt peeks out under his sleeve. An usher named Theodore roams about in striped overalls. He is a convert and has had his hand in many of the parish’s projects. Especially noticeable are the magnificent quilts he made that are hung about the narthex. Our encounter lasts no longer than forty-five minutes but we feel at home already.

St. Basil the Great; KC, KS

St. Basil the Great; KC, KS

Have you ever had coffee that is more than coffee? It is an experience. Down on Main at Fortieth, there’s a place we go on cloudy days, but only cloudy days. It’s better if it drizzles a bit. The waft of coffee grounds rise through your nostrils and a tingle of warmth and comfort envelop your insides. You were made for this; this was made for you. The coffee here is roasted with love and each cup is made by hand. It feels a little 2002 as “Is This It” circles out of the speakers. $3.25 is a lot of a cup of coffee. $3.25 is a deal when it comes in a Pyrex beaker and served on a wooden plate. The donuts are heavenly: deep fried, chocolate & peanut butter; smothered in tiny peanuts. Please don’t let this end.

Someone famous once said “shake it like a Polaroid”. Someone famous didn’t know that that doesn’t process the film any faster and it often leaves a chemical stain at the base of the image. There’s a box full of new Polaroids being made with each stop on the interstate. First in Frackville, then Pittsburgh, then Ohio, and Indiana (complete with a super-weed!), the Land of Lincoln, the Mighty Mississippi, Des Moines and all stops in-between. There is something magical about prints and Polaroids in particular. The medium is the message.

“Look at those clouds. Do you want to stop and take some photos?”

“That sure would be nice.”

Ghost towns are numerous in these parts but they’re sure hard to find. Most of them are covered up with autumnal grass and leaves and maybe even some hayseeds. The late hay is being cut and rolled right about now. Just like a fine cigarette. The massive rolls dot the rolling hills and the gray light and intermittent drizzle rolls off them gentlly. 3200 speed film is grainy; just like the day. Stand in front of that hay roll. We’ll take some pictures while we can.

Oddly Correct; KCMO

Oddly Correct; KCMO

“Did you hear about that guy who found a Ghost Town in the Smoky Mountains?!”

It’s kind-of on the way home. It’d be a great stop. Ironic how we were looking for just that sorta thing and a news story drops like that. There must be something in the October air.

The sun sets a little quicker these days. I love the chill in the air. The smell, too. Last night I went out to the car to grab my hoodie and it smelled like a wood-fire was burning. Football is in full swing and the Royals are in the playoffs for the first time since eighty-five. That’s twenty-nine years. We shoulda stayed up for the Wild Card game at the High Life Lounge. It woulda been a memory.

Don’t get stuck on missed-memories. We’ve made a bunch and there’s lots more good ones to go around. Just don’t forget your coffee or beer.