Sleepers | Powernap

While we were in Vegas in July for a short two-day vacation, we stayed at the Bellagio.  I booked everything through Am-Ex travel so the I could get the standard set of upgrades through my particular card.  We drove there from LA with the puppies who we were boarding near the strip and then headed straight over to the hotel to check-in.  

Somewhere along the way, while booking the rooms, I had managed to book through the “standard site” and not the “concierge” which meant I didn’t get the standard set of upgrades, I didn’t get the late check out, I didn’t get the included breakfasts, I didn’t get the whatever.  Everything was messed-up.  On top of it all I’ve got tired kids and wife who just want to head down to the pool and the latter of which just wants her bikini, a sun chair and a pina colada.  

After two hours on the phone, I’m still no closer to rebooking the rooms and the folks at the check-in desk give us a temp pass to the pool so they can get rid of the kids running around the check-in desk.  I’m walking everyone down to the pool, so-pissed that I can’t ever speak.  I’m seriously just grunting at this point, communicating with a series of gestures, guttural sounds and “fucks” all strung together in unintelligible bat-shit craziness.  My cheeks and ears are burning red, partly because of anger but also because of the radio waves oozing out of the iPhone that’s been lodged in my ear for heading on two hours surely radiating my brain, microwaving it into oatmeal.  

Everyone has questions.  I hate questions.  “Are we checked-in,” “Can we go to our room,” “Why did we have to wait so long.”  I’m shutting down, I can feel it.  The irritation is spilling over with both the family and the woman on the phone–the fourth woman with two first names I’ve talked to in the past two hours (who have whispered sweet nothings in my ear about Am-Ex company policy and the do’s and don’t of online booking but decidedly unlike her three previous three useless counterparts) appears to actually want to help me fix this clusterfuck.  At that exact moment when I’m about to blow my top, at that precise second when it’s totally unbearable for even one more second, THAT’s when I see this guy.  He’s got a cheap suit on and a convention entry pass haphazardly thrown down by his feet when he collapsed into the chair by the exit to the pool that he’s currently sleeping in.  I dropped the luggage that I forgot I was carrying, say to the woman on the phone that she has to hold for a second and framed this picture.  

Sleepers | Powernap shot on my Leica M7 with the Summicron 35 on Kodak Tri-X 400 +1. 

Sleepers | Skateboard

The first in a trio of images of people sleeping in public places.  I’m always amazed at the places people can sleep.  I can’t sleep on an airplane.  I have trouble sleeping in a car if someone else is driving whereas if I’m driving I feel like I could fall asleep at any given moment ironically enough–strange that now that I say it out loud but it’s absolutely the truth. 

Hotels and I are no better.  I’ll spend a night in a hotel room staring at the ceiling wishing I was in my own bed.   I can never get comfortable, the pillows are always to stiff or the mattress is to soft or the sheets are to scratchy.  I actually slept once on a train en route from Venice to Milan.  When I woke up someone had stolen my mobile phone, my wallet, all my cash (which wasn’t in my wallet) and a giant chocolate bar I had eaten half off.  The thief had been kind enough to leave my passport and the bag of carrots I had been snacking on.  I understand the carrots but the passport was a bit of a surprise.  Regardless I’ll never do that again.  Fuck sleeping on trains.    

Sleepers | Skateboard shot on my Leica M7 with the 35mm Summicron on Kodak Tri-X 400 +1.  

On the other side the glass

The girl on the other side of the glass is my daughter, Ester.  I was inside and she was outside with Ella goofing around.  I think they were looking for me when I made this image.  She stuck her face right up against the circular cut in the frosted glass, looking around.  She didn’t need me just wanted to know where I was.  She’s pulling away from me because she’s at the age where she needs to learn to pull away.

The thing that everyone tells you when you first become a parent is to enjoy it because it goes so fast.  I must have heard it from a million different parents with older kids, from own my parents and from pretty much everyone else.  

“Enjoy the time while they’re so small,”  “Cherish every moment,” “Before you know it they’ll be big”

And the thing is you don’t really listen.  It’s all so new and so incredible and so tiring that you forget.  You’re totally caught it the moment.  You forget to notice because of how incredible it all is and how fast it’s all going.  Then one day you’re at LACMA with your daughters and you realize that they’re both in middle school, that they’d rather run around by themselves then hang with their pop, and that all this happened in what feels like the time it takes to make three school lunches.  

Then something else creeps in around the edges–you’re afraid of what happens next.  Excited but afraid and sad but happy because it’s all happening at the speed of light.  The weeks pass like hours and years like weeks.  You can’t slow it down and I so wish I could.  

The girl on the other side of the glass, shot on Leica M7, Summicron 35 on Kodak Tri-X 400 +1.  

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