Tink

She's playing put-put, but threw down the plastic club and pushed the ball in instead.

Trinity

McIntosh II

Fall fashion

Photo shoot for class. I know I use Hunter as my model a lot, but hopefully you can see why.

Fundraiser without the fun

This shot took itself.

He's waiting to perform a classical french ballroom dance for about 600 people, all sitting in round tables with elaborate centerpieces and their own name tags. It's the kind of event where you think you're supposed to have fun, but you really just don't know what to do so you end up drinking a lot of expensive champagne. I think they call those fundraisers.

McIntosh I

55 pt. 2

She doesn't want her picture taken

This woman is telling me that the woman on the left doesn't want her picture taken. "Can't you see she doesn't want her picture taken?!" she asks me. "She said she didn't want her picture taken. She doesn't want to be in the newspaper. You better stop that."

The other woman looks at me and rolls her eyes under her sunglasses. She had just told me she had been waiting at the Alachua County Health Department for two hours. She had just heard the woman with the red hair, the department's director or something, tell a reporter that they "do everything they can to make sure each visit is timely and worthwhile." she doesn't want people waiting around the waiting room for hours and hours, she tells the reporter.

When the director leaves, the reporter sits next to the woman on the left and says, loudly, "Hi my name is so-and-so I'm a reporter for so-and-so do you think it's good that the hospital extended its hours?!"

This woman had been crying a few moments before, frustrated by not being able to see a doctor and overhearing the director say they try to treat people in a timely manner. The reporter hadn't noticed her frustration. Of course, the woman said she doesn't want to talk about the hospital because she has nothing good to say. The reporter leaves, slightly annoyed, and finds someone else to talk to.

"I'm sorry I took a photo of you earlier," I said. "I'm going to delete it now."

She tells me she didn't mind so much about the photo, she just wanted to get in and get helped. She started crying again. I said I'd be frustrated myself if I couldn't get in. I knew the hospital was understaffed but she didn't know. I didn't tell her, thinking it would make her feel worse, but I'm sure she assumed it was anyway.

She goes on to say that she doesn't care that the hospital extended its hours if it's still treating its patients like dirt. "Everyone's running around here and no one knows what they're doing," she said.

In a way, I wish the reporter had heard this. But I'm also glad she didn't. Her voice was too loud, her face was too assuming. She didn't match the place or feel anything and it showed.

The reporter tells me her editor is switching her to the police beat next week.

The Perfect Salad

We didn't know what to do with the salad after the shoot. So, Ian wrote a note and we left it on a table in the Weimer courtyard. I really hope someone ate it, but I can understand how the salad could be too intimidating to touch.

55 pt. 1.5

55 pt. 1

The trailer park is behind the historic part of McIntosh, where the homes are all framed with Spanish Moss and where the porch fans are kept on at night. Everyone here owns a golf cart. There wouldn't be use for a car, really, unless you had to go into Gainesville for some reason. There is one gas station, one restaurant, a small grocery store and a bank. And there are golf carts parked outside every one of them.

The people who live in the 55+ trailer park aren't all 55+ but they have their golfcarts, too. They drive to the laundromat or to the restroom, yellow-tinted toile in the windows and a strip of floral wallpaper with curling edges.

They all get together sometimes, to play pool, play poker. There is a room with screen for walls and an animal skull tacked to a post. There are a number of microwaves and kitchen appliances sitting in rows, gathering dust. The two refrigerators are locked unless Laura, the only employee in the park's main office, opens it on Saturday night.

I find her sitting in a rocking chair outside of the office, smoking a cigarette and rocking a baby in a carriage. I ask her if I can sit with her and she says yes. She invites me to a pig roast this weekend. She says she'll introduce me to people so I can "see what's what" and asks if I know how to play pool.