Going out your front door is almost always more interesting than sticking around home. I went downtown and stumbled into a protest march with several thousand people. Well, I already had the camera with me.... so....

Another in a series of bad looking hats. 

It was the first really hot afternoon in a while. A harbinger of a toasty Summer in our future. Around two in the afternoon I figured I was never going to get well acclimated to the coming heat waves if I didn't get out and start walking through the primoridial steam bath so I headed out to see what a clear bright day might deliver. I guess my other choices might have included sitting here in the office endlessly staring at stuff on YouTube. Or worse, I could have chosen sitting in front of a large TV  with a bowl of ice cream in my hands, watching first golf, then baseball, then football. then horse racing and then bowling; all the time wondering why I have lower and lower energy, pants that shrink by the week and a basket full of chronic health problems. I opted out of those choices and cinched up the laces of my shoes. What's 95 degrees and a half dozen miles of brisk walking gonna get you anyway? Oh, that's right, good health, a hearty appetite and better sleep. Seems like an easy f#@king choice to me --- right?

Anyway, I was walking along Congress Avenue and I started to hear the sounds of a loud crowd of people. I looked to the north, towards the Capitol grounds, and I could seen a big crowd, complete with banners, giant flags, placards of all kinds and belting out the typical rhythmic call and repeat of a protest rally. I'd read somewhere that we'd have a protest rally in support of the Palestinians today. No violence expected. 

I'm not going to get into who is right and who is wrong; geopolitically. Which leaders are monsters and which are saints. That's for history to sort out. But I have to say that the average Palestinian family in Gaza is getting screwed over no matter how you look at it. And I know that Hamas was the trigger....but.. ten eyes for an eye seems a bit...much.

Anyway, back to photography. I am always curious having lived through the Viet Nam protests of the late sixties and early seventies, the protests against the illegal activities of the Reagan government in El Salvador and Nicaragua, and even a smattering of state Capitol protests against the KKK. Always with some sort of camera in hand. Nothing much changes when it comes protest marches. The marches let our news media and our elected officials know that a certain number of the population is not happy with the status quo or unfolding, unhappy new events. Whether the protests move the needle when it comes to the general populations proclivity to vote one way or another is unknown. Maybe unknowable.

I walked up Congress from 5th Street to 8th Street for a better view and once I got there I figured I might as well imbed myself with the protesters and walk along to take a few photographs. Everyone was very sweet. The police (who were not a huge presence; adequate but not overbearing) treated me well and everyone I photographed eventually flashed me a peace sign or at least a quick smile. I always try to wear at least a half smile since it helps to leverage my advantages as a "senior citizen" amongst the young and restless. I have become perceived, I think, as "non-challenging." 

I have the same singular issue with big protest rallies that I have with modern restaurants of the moment. They are both generally far too loud. I guess that's a goal for both but I'm not sure if the protesters would have been just as well served doing a silent march and then not going home with ringing ears. Had I been "on the job" I would have been carrying ear plugs with me. But alas, not on a casual photo walk. 

I must have had an intuitive flash when prepping to leave the house this afternoon because I tossed the Leica SL and the 90mm back into a drawer and pulled out a Leica M camera and the cliché 35mm lens for the M system. Classic, old school photo-J. 

The crowd remained calm and polite but loud. People came prepared. They had water. Some had juice boxes. Some had umbrellas with which to shade themselves from the bright sun. 

I didn't need to take these photographs --- or the other hundred or so I'm not showing here. But you never know. I have photographs of events in Austin going back a long way and I'm often asked questions like: "Do you have any photos of punk rock performances at Raul's night club?" or "Didn't you have photos of that hispanic guy getting smacked around by the police from that rally with the Klan in the 1980s?" or "Do you have photos of Rick Perry running a triathlon?" or "What about photos with Gregg Abbott palling around with corporate fat cats?" And, yes, I do. And they create a narrative about my time in Austin. My time documenting a city's change. So they are emotionally fulfilling to have around. 

But sadly, the local venues/media in which to show the photos have mostly vanished. I'll keep those images around anyway. It's a nice reminder that I spent my quality time off walking, shooting, talking and listening instead of sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and wishing I'd done something more interesting. 

I am always amused when people bring their dogs to protest rallies.

But meeting dogs is a nice break in the pathos of the chants for the young kids.

Always time to duck out of the crowd for a selfie. 

"We were here!"

Police with bicycles, and no assault rifles on display.

A nice change from the black Nomex suits, kneepads and 

abject paranoia. Well done Austin....

Sadly, not much real media presence. Probably too busy covering the 

ribbon cutting of a gated community somewhere...

I liked the spirit of the crowd. I like the restraint of the police. I liked the dogs. I thought protesters with juice boxes were amusing. I think the crowd was rightly passionate. But I also think that there are no easy answers. Photographers....we're mostly there as witnesses that something did happen. And sometimes that's enough. 

It got too loud. I went home and wrote this.