Showing posts with label Federal Court House of the Southern District of Indiana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Federal Court House of the Southern District of Indiana. Show all posts

Friday, August 14, 2015

Selfie


These girls were fooling around with their i-phones 
Wednesday afternoon, trying their new 
selfie-stick. Of course, mugging for the camera 
was required, but this serves as a reminder 
to check the backgrounds of all your images 
before posting them on-line.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

No Bed of Flowers


I generally keep my camera aimed at "pretty pictures."
I avoid taking pictures of people both because of my reluctance 
to approach people and for personal safety - 
you'd be surprised how many people 
seem to think the cops are watching my blog 
for glimpses of wanted felons (them!).

While always present, scenes such as that above
seem to be more common than in the past. 
While I sat on a bench waiting for the bus, 
I stared straight ahead at the "pretty picture," 
while the sad situation above unfolded just to my right.
God only knows from where he'd come.
He couldn't even say himself, although a band on
his wrist made it seem likely he'd been
to either Eskenazi Health or the VA Hospital.
A policeman was summoned and, as kindly as his
uniform would allow, he tried to get the man
to move away, without success. 
As my bus pulled away from the curb, I heard
sirens approaching, signifying an ambulance or, 
more likely, a paddy wagon, that had been summoned 
to take the sad man away.

As the differences between the Have/Have Not 
in our country become more extreme, 
the sheer numbers of people who have nothing to do,
 no place to go become more obvious.
My generation has seen the country's transition 
from a manufacturing society to the computer age, 
relying on "service jobs" (i.e., fast food industry
and hotel maids) to fill the void left by well-paying work. 
This has helped to create a surplus of people
who often have only a marginal connection to
steady employment.
The greed of our corporate masters, with the legal assistance
of Congress, have returned this country to a culture
of rapacious greed unmatched since the days
of Andrew Carnegie, J.P. Morgan, and John Rockefeller.
It took the will of Teddy Roosevelt to bring
them into line, but today's Congress is so tightly
wound, contorted, and entangled with special interest
groups that logical thinking about dire problems
facing our society does not seem to be possible.

We are running out of water, the food supply is at risk.
Our educational system is failing us, meaning that many kids
barely have the skill it takes to press a color picture
on the cash register to ring up our Big Mac purchase.

The state of Indiana has given out so many tax breaks to
businesses *seeking* to do business here that it 
has eroded the tax base. This has led to a shortfall
in that revenue, as well as from the average taxpayer,
because so many of them are either out of work
or employed in such low-paying jobs they
have little or no tax liability.

When I ride the bus to work of a morning,
all I see are people like myself, just trying
to keep roofs over our heads and food
in our kids' stomachs. Most of us are one or
two paychecks from being out on the street,
but we keep slogging away, thinking we'll catch
a break. Some day. But probably not.

The 2% who control the nation's business
don't seem to understand that we are all drinking
from the same well; eventually they will succumb 
 to the same poison they have inflicted
on the general populace.


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Waiting for the Bus: At 8 a.m. and at 8 p.m.


Monday morning, I arrived downtown to catch a bus to work. 
 The top photo was taken outside the Federal Court 
Building. I particularly enjoy the way the LED lights 
illuminate the columns of the court building. 
They seem caught in the middle of the complimentary 
scheme of the yellow globe lights and indigo sky.
After swimming at the Natatorium, I walked over
to Eskenazi Health to get the bus home.
At the stop, I looked over my shoulder to see, again,
that blue and yellow had conspired together, 
this time to cast their hues over a composition 
of rectangles and grids.

(Argh! My eyes must be deceiving me! This is my
one thousandth post for SPD!) 


Thursday, March 21, 2013

Guess Which One Is Not the Lawyer


A group of people passed by the other day, on their way 
to somewhere important, with what looked like everything 
they treasured in crammed-full totes.
Guess which one is not the lawyer?


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Boo-fay!


As I walked up to the bus stop near the Federal Court House, 
I saw a flock of sparrows worrying a stale dinner roll.
Together they nipped at the roll, bit by bit, rolling and turning
it around the courthouse lawn.
Not long after my arrival, the pigeons flew in to claim
a share of the roll, driving the sparrows away.
The smaller birds attempted to reclaim their prize, but only
got as far as an occasional nip at the bread; while the sparrows
fed en mass, the pigeons did not share. One cock expressed
his claim by turning in circles, looking like a body builder
striking poses, flexing his shoulders to dominate
the little birds. As the cock circled, one of the sparrows
would dart in behind him to steal a bite off the roll, 
and the pigeon was none the wiser.


Thursday, January 26, 2012

Downtown Scenes


Late afternoon downtown, while the sun is 
creating long blue shadows on the buildings,
a UPS delivery man drives away from the 
Federal Court House, and a young man checks
his messages while waiting for a bus.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Textured Tuesday: Smooth and Scratchy


Actually, I saw this picture last week at night, when the lights 
shining from within the sleek Chase Tower formed a rhythmic pattern
that contrasted with the more ornate limestone exterior of
the Federal Court House Building. Those pictures didn't work; sadly,
I couldn't hold my camera steady long enough to get the image I wanted.



The misty overcast this afternoon helped the Tower
step into the background, allowing for a nice balance
between the two buildings.