Never let it be said that I only post flattering pictures of myself. I've been coming home late recently — having forgotten that my computer is not only where I check e-mail but also my TV, DVD player, connection to most of the world, etc., I should have realized that I might need to use it after work hours. Now, I've lived in poorer neighborhoods before, but they've always been fairly lively — if someone wanted to attack you on E. 187th St., they'd have to deal with hordes of people betting on the outcome. Now, I live on one of the few Manhattan avenues you can feel safe about crossing without looking both ways at any time of day. The streets are nearly empty at night, and that makes me wary. I look in car windows, judge the threat potential of everyone I see, and track the footsteps of an old man walking a block behind me. As I walk, I plant each foot in the right way that I can launch a backward thrust kick. I am not going to be easily surprised. Last night I didn't do any of that. I don't know if it was because it was earlier than normal (about 11 p.m.) or because I was coming from 125th St., which is busy, because I had actually thought to myself that muggers wouldn't want to stand around out in the rain, or just because I was deeply lost in thought, but other than idly looking down the street ahead of me, I didn't do anything to prepare myself. In fact, a made a fatal error — the twin white trails of iPod headphones dangled from my ears. Not only did this make me a valuable target, it made me totally oblivious to the five black kids, about 16 or 17, running up behind me. *BAM*! White flashed as the lead kid jumped and punched me on the side of the head. I turned around, saw a kid yelling "C'mon! You want a piece of me?" and my first thought was that they were joking. In the adrenaline of the moment, it didn't feel like they had hit me that hard. *BAM!* another kid hit me in the mouth from the side. Now I had my bearings. I circled around the lead kid — who was wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans, and a three-quarter-inch thick gold chain, and considered my options. Now that I was alert, I could see that these kids couldn't fight worth a damn. A heavyset kid kicked at my groin and I blocked it without thinking; another kid punched me in the arm and I barely felt it. They were already getting jumpy — they'd clearly thought that their punches would have knocked me down or at least put me off-balance, and instead I had barely moved. The leader was standing near the curb now, and calculations flashed through my mind. Given how he was standing, a front thrust kick would have knocked him about eight feet back on his ass (just last week I knocked a karate partner about 10 feet back into a wall with a side thrust, and he'd had heavy padding). A couple of kids were heavyset, but I had about 25 pounds of muscle on any of them. If none of them kids had weapons, I could probably take them — but that was a big if. Ok, what do I have on me? Just my iPod. No computer, no camera. Screw it, it's not worth it. All that went through my head in less than two seconds as I tensed -- and then relaxed -- my front leg. So I didn't fight, but I'd say martial arts still helped a great deal, since the idea of having people who were trying to hurt me wasn't alien. I stayed perfectly calm and made no threatening motions. I backed out into the road so they weren't flanking me and hoped for a car to come by. Even when they continued to attack me, I deflected their awkward punches and more awkward kicks just by twisting my body, not lashing out. "OK, fine, it's ok. You want the iPod, fine, let me take it out." The cord was tangled on my backpack. At this time, a woman called out from the window. "Hey you kids! I'm calling the cops!" Between her yelling and the fact that their attemped beat-down wasn't even affecting my demeanor anymore, they got nervous. "You're stalling, man, you're stalling!" The leader reached under his sweatshirt and into his pants. "I'm gonna shoot you, man! You want me to shoot you!" I figured he probably didn't have a gun, but that was the last thing I wanted to risk. They didn't have me someplace where they could have their way with me, so as long as none of them pulled out any weapons, I knew I'd leave in about the same shape I already was. And if you were headed out for a night on the town with an option to mug, wouldn't you bring at least a knife? I decided the speech I gave the redneck who pulled a knife on me a few years ago — "Is this really worth going to prison over?" — would likely just infuriate these kids, so I tried to keep them calm. "Look, man, I'm not stalling. The wires are tangled. Get it yourself." He grabbed into my pocket. Once again I wished it were just him or with one other guy, since the idiot had just left himself defenseless. But he grabbed it and they started running. I gave sort of a resigned sigh and

2/52 This is only happening because I was concerned about being hung by my virtual toes if I did not eventually deliver on the "Me, Myself and I" theme. You guys know who you are.... So 10 5 more things about me...aren't you all tired of hearing this stuff, yet? 1. I like a little mystery in my life. I think a few more veils just came down and I'm terrified about it. Would you like to know how many times I posted and deleted? I thought not. 2. I'm sarcastic; to a fault. Who would've thought? (*sigh* I can't help it) 3. I love being outside. Even though it was somewhere in the teens and it meant stripping at least one of those three layers to take this picture, it didn't even cross my mind to take it at home. Ok - well it did cross my mind after several shots without one of those layers. It was cold, people. 4. I have still not gotten over the fear of whipping out a camera in public. I'm working on it, but it is very slow going. Never mind setting up a tripod, holding a reflector in a location where someone could see. Uh-uh. Not happening. Well, except for an older couple rocking on their porch from across the lake. They're used to me, I'm used to them (it helps that they're fictional). 5. Despite the unfortunate proximity of the lens in this particular image, I mostly tend to shoot around 24mm/35mm. I don't know why. I just see better that way. I'm constantly amazed by the close up images people around here create with razor thin dofs, tight in shots and bokelicious light. I can tell you this...when you see those images on my stream. It probably took me over 100 frames. :-) I just can't see the lines, the curves as they relate to a composition the same way I see them from the bigger picture. Yeah...I'm done with 5. You already know or will figure out the rest soon. I tend to talk a lot. ;-)