Missoula Rabble, Bob and Monica met in Long Beach, CA the night before JFK was assassinated. They were at a Catholic singles mixer. I asked Bob how long they've been married. "Forty-nine years, one month and three days," he said. He had asked her to play ping pong. "She said she knew how to play, but she didn't," he said and laughed. "We're like oil and water. Cat and dog," he said. "She's Hungarian and Spanish. I'm German." They raised three daughters together. "I was outnumbered," he said. I asked Monica how they made it. "A lot of love and a lot of tolerance," she said. "Underneath his mixture of bravado, there's a kind man."
I accepted a challenge back in May to take and publish one picture a day for one year. Little did I know, this challenge would awake the little photographer in me who has been hiding out for a few years. This picture a day gig has become very important to me. I feel like it is bigger than a silly photo a day. It's a collection. It's art. It's challenging. And I think it's inspiring.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Day 114, Missoula Rabble, Bob and Monica
Missoula Rabble, Bob and Monica met in Long Beach, CA the night before JFK was assassinated. They were at a Catholic singles mixer. I asked Bob how long they've been married. "Forty-nine years, one month and three days," he said. He had asked her to play ping pong. "She said she knew how to play, but she didn't," he said and laughed. "We're like oil and water. Cat and dog," he said. "She's Hungarian and Spanish. I'm German." They raised three daughters together. "I was outnumbered," he said. I asked Monica how they made it. "A lot of love and a lot of tolerance," she said. "Underneath his mixture of bravado, there's a kind man."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment