Al Gore came to these parts yesterday, first speaking to 5K students from high schools and the big U and then in the evening to that many grownups.
What differed from the movie, An Inconvenient Truth, was the ending.
Whereas the movie (like Iraq for Sale) piled on fact after fact after photo and photo and more factly matters about how We have really collectively and consistently been, in a nutshell, fucking up the Earth, the talk ended with some positivity and how We can change what has been mucked up–NOW.

Al was intro'd by big U prez John Simpson, Lieutenant Gov David Paterson, and U student Kelly Miller. Paterson, who Yours Truly got to meet and photograph for three days during the Empire State's Dem Convention, is a joking man and stated that Al Gore was going to make an important announcement during the talk, that he would be announcing ( mute mute ). He began frantically tapping the mic asking What is wrong with this microphone.
Sadly, Al did not announce his presidential run and in lieu of such stated that he is a Recovering politician and is on step 11.
He said He was the president of the United States and when laughter ensued he did a well-timed pause to say I don't see the humour in that.
Well, Al, YT would like to impart that it is nervous titters, not guffaws, because that presidency was like so yours, so popular vote YOURS.
Onwards.
So there was a positive, rah-rah ending and a deserved standing ovation.
All in all an all-around good Al time.

Later alligator attended and photographed Roscoe Mitchell and his rhythm section at Albright-Knox Art Gallery. Heading in to meet up with Kennedy, Annie, Erin, was rather shocked and pleased all at once that the venerable-yet-altered art joint had not sold off their small, blue glass figurines by Picasso. They were being shown somewhat prominently just off the sculpture garden (no longer a garden), past the Kiefer in a suitable showcase. They were not auctioned off.
Yet.
Off to points beyond on this workful, artful day, also another jazzful one as well.

Al Gore Love.

Minding my own business, as is always my wont, I meandered into an office.
Why, You ask.
As if You have no idea that much of what I do is appearing at office doors, talking, photographing, talking, leaving, but not before some more talking and photographing.
So there Yours Truly is, at an office door of a superstar prof, in midst of conference with a grad student.
Grad Student was being spoken and, having been out of Academe for a little while, my ears were a bit rusty.
I do still recall, howmeverr, how to pronounce Benjamin properly (benYUHmean) as opposed to Benji the Dog's full name.
phew.
So conference and bandying about over and YT had already started making images as the superstar spoke. And then I sunk more into invisibility. And then not when it was just the two of us. Results smashing, of course.
But in mid-pixelation started to talk Mac and mentioned digvid, being self-taught and all that hair-raising miasmic stuff, and then moved on to the online realm.
In about ten minutes I had gleaned so much new information from this man that my brain had the feeling of having spoken French all day and the evening is going to stretch along and maybe even one kir royale (alright, three) have been consumed (or are in mid-sip) and the brain is working very hard at this other lingua until running away from the language is necessary to regroup and such.
I told the superstar this, he was pleased that he had imparted so much in such a short time.
Then there is today.
Photo gigs and then the bleak, stripmalledtrek to The Clubhouse to pick up something I thought I needed for this Mac. Turns out No, not needed, but talked for a long time to a MacClerk about all sorts of things to do with a Mac and the internet system.
Is anything more exciting. I think not.
Saw Donny K at The Clubhouse and told him I'd received a request from afar to get six teeny-rockers into a Goo show down south. And then today a p.r. femme called to see if I'd like to review a show in Rochester tomorrow. The rock world, which never left the side of YT, is creeping closer.
Speaking of bandying about, met up with fellow Spree people to volley ideas about regarding the best that might ever happen or be acquired in these parts.
I do mean, of course, Spree's best of issue.
Everyone does a best issue.
It is as assured as playoffs in sports, blooms in the garden, glances between pedestrians.

Played off, bloomed up Love.

wow.
That is what I said, Perfectly like so not sotto voce to myself as I tooled around Target today for this purpose, to acquire more sunscreen.
This, Yours Truly adds, the very same week beloved President Al Gore visits this very region.
You draw the line.
Now You do not naysay, telling YT that SPF 70 is truly something like 35. Like how booze's alcohol content is a snippet of what is printed labelside.
Irregardless of the veracity in the tube, this is huge news for one like me, one who burns sitting near a window on a sunny day.
Al. Al Gore.
This will be the third time that YT has photographed his direct gazed countenance.
The first time he was the veep and appeared with Tipper, Bill & Hill.
That is the occasion at the mega-plex-sporto arena of the Middling City's downtown, the one that afterwards a glimpse of a dummy vehicle with literal dummies resembling the foursome was spotted heading off into another direction from the actual vehicle carrying themselves.
Ahh, the sights, the sites that have been seen.
The second time Al was running for his presidency and was dressed in a sharp, brown cashmere sweater, thanks to Naomi the Feminist.
This is numero trio.
Beforehand I am shooting man on the street shots of attendees, exactly as I did for the visit of His Holiness Dalai Lama–HHDL in media parlance.

Time to mix rhubarb into cardamom into orange into strawberries.
That, You see, is chemistry for good.

Good, chemical Love.

Org'd a viewing of Kenn Morgan photos with Sparky and Annie over at one of those Middling City churches now proselytizing pedestrians with Art as the highest of powers, Karpeles.
And so on that note meandered to put her highness, Cat Power, on the hi-fi.
Kenn made images of profiles of femmes with Roman noses, as they are classified usually and he created some magnum opusesque words of his own that were as admirable as the images - max cascade was one.
Jeez it's been a while since this Cat Power was played and Yours Truly wonders why it has not hit the platter sooner.
At today's high powered event was not only lured into promising a visit to another artist's exhibition in a few weeks, but into having some early box wine. Early as in the hour and early as in was probably vinted last month.
I noted to Annie that the box is meant to fit onto a refrigerator door, they are roughly the width of a jar of mayonnaise. Now, YT asks, with a spigot on one side how does a box wino pour sans lifting the entire package up and away.
The box denoted the contents featured real grape juice and alcohol content, 11%.
There was cheese. We girls were thrilled.
It is time to push pixels and disseminate happiness the world over.
Met with Liz Friday evening to discuss the pending momentous b-day numero fiftio of Cheryl and our celebratory gesture of dinner, Perfection, gifts, explosion of glad tidings.
This is a very busy birthday month for YT has several persons of interest who were born as Tauruses and Gemini: Kennedy (the lone Gem), Brucey, Cheryl, Jana.
YT overdoes the birth anniversaries of others, usually.
I say Hooray to them.
And, usually, one gets a special improv harmonica tune on the phone to usher in all good vibes.
The greens get more vibrant each day.

Vibrant green Love.

+ The latest incarnation of that cable access show, still confusedly called the Sterlace Show although the eponymousee departed after a mid-life meltdown, is out in the world. Viewable on their site whose URL escapes. It was taped 4.13.07, the exact anniversary (to day of week) of epinw and Blogger, Beckett were discussed. Me, Mish, Annie had a sing-off at the end, to which I dragged several rock classics to the table.