Of Strangers and Sweet Soul Sounds On State
Walking down State Street in Chicago the other evening. It was a beautiful day, one of the few that affords Fall in that great city. Pretty soon, Old Man Winter will crack his leather whip, driving that wind of his down Lakeshore Drive and right up the gut of Michigan Ave.
Ain’t for the faint.
On this evening, though, my work day was done, and photographic possibilities were near. I had a destination in mind, but no real hurry.
Walk with the camera. Dinner sometime real soon.
In some beautiful late-day light, I turned right, up State Street. And what do my wondering eyes should appear…
I came across this beautiful ’64 Dodge convertible parked at the curb. The color was unique, not sure what to call it – like a light, light tan perhaps? Almost like a wet khaki. Certainly not one I usually see, but it worked.
I’ve been on a classic car kick lately and this one certainly fit the bill.
I started to chat with its driver, Katina. We talked abit about the car, then chatted some more about this, that, the other.
She’s a Chicago gal, does risk assessment full time, promotes muscians on the side. Mostly jazz, some blues…it’s her passion.
I admire that, of course. Works a full time gig because that’s what she has to do. But still pursues the passion when she can. Not everyone can drop everything to do what they love. Sometimes, you gotta keep your passion your passion, but still get that paycheck every week.
Anyway, she told me she caught the classic car bug from a co-worker. Was waiting for her friend to come out of the nearby Chik-Fil-A. Blackberry plugged in, sitting on the seat next to her. Forgot to ask about the beads hanging from the rearview.
Said she was enjoying the last few days of nice Chicago weather before she puts this beautiful baby in the garage for the winter.
Road salt kills.
Standing there, before this car…it just waanted to blast Etta James, Aretha Franklin, James Brown, The Drifters, Roy Orbinson, Chapel of Love and others from back in the day.
Katina was great to chat with, and the car was a beaut. She agreed to be part of my 100 Strangers project.
Her friend returned to the car with the bag fo Chick-Fil-A in his hand. Dinner, I guess.
I was just admiring your car, I said.
“Ain’t me, man. It’s all her.”
True dat. Katrina and her car bug.
So, this long-runing project of mine finally tipped to the lopside of the ’80s.
Slowly but surely – no longer a timetable – I’m making progress.
Like a ballpen hammer on a cinderblock cell wall, trying to make my escape..
© Mark V. Krajnak 2012 | JerseyStyle Photography | All rights Reserved