in a search for gold IV: american yellows

Santa Monica, mall-flavoured sunlight & fries 13/02/09


Our magician and the invisible Californian hummingbird,
14/02/09


Winter trees, burning with cold, JFK 25/02/09


"Yes. Frank's gone missing."
5th Avenue, 24/02/09







Before a sandstorm, Teotihuacan, 21/02/09

And

As Frank Zappa (Baltimore, Maryland) puts it:

Don't Eat The Yellow Snow

Dreamed I was an eskimo
Frozen wind began to blow
Under my boots and around my toes
The frost that bit the ground below
It was a hundred degrees below zero...

And my mama cried
And my mama cried
Nanook, a-no-no
Nanook, a-no-no
Don’t be a naughty eskimo
Save your money, don’t go to the show

Well I turned around and I said oh, oh oh
Well I turned around and I said oh, oh oh
Well I turned around and I said ho, ho
And the northern lights commenced to glow
And she said, with a tear in her eye
Watch out where the huskies go, and don’t you eat that yellow snow
Watch out where the huskies go, and don’t you eat that yellow snow

gold an fork

On Elizabeth Street, Melbourne, there is a restaurant called 'Gold an Fork'. Not 'Gold and Fork', or even 'Golden Fork' – no letters are missing from the sign. It just is an Indian restaurant, proudly named 'Gold an Fork'.
And incidentally, they serve a boiled egg with their Thali.

PS.
I had a friend who once missed her bus and was late for work.
Never helpless, she promptly flagged down a car – and was driven to the city in a Golden Egg truck.