Every now and then in my life, I am happy with what I have.
It happened in 1995.
I was driving a 1979 Volvo station wagon, shooting pictures with a 1979-vintage Nikon F-2 film camera, and living in a spacious-for-me one-bedroom apartment in a town that I loved.
My shoes were comfortable and well-worn leather work boots from Sears that, by some odd quirk, were also purchased in 1979.
My camera and my car were rugged, mechanical, and dependable. I was impressed and comfortable with the look and feel of them.
As a reporter, I carried around a notebook, calendar and two pens, held together by the stout rubber band from that morning’s edition of the Sacramento Bee.
It was a simple world and I had things figured out.
rivereditor 