MGRZ Vol.002

Summer leaves real fast up here, the nights are already in the low 50’s. Fine by me, I like the cold - plus I finally got the darkroom up and running and I have a hell of a backlog to get through. While harvest festivals are in full swing right now, I did get to enjoy running around the time capsule that is Sylvan Beach. The amusement park has definitely seen better days, but I can’t help but find the little rides and attractions that wore out their novelty in the early 90’s pretty charming.

The fortune teller offered us nothing - the last inspection sticker that was weathered away on the side of the booth was from 1967. Still worth the quarter just for the mystery. We ripped through some skeeball, unable to amass enough tickets to get the (no shit) New Kids on the Block poster. Landed enough to get some quality sticky hands though.

I’ve developed a soft spot for dark rides - usually “haunted” or spooky attractions where you’re in a cart on a rail and are led through a bunch of dark hallways to be accosted with dimly lit skeletons on hydraulic pistons that yell at you through a busted PA system. I love em. The nephews hated it.

We opted for more of the classic carnival rides and the operator told me stories of spending that last decade living off the grid in Alaska, only coming back to society to be a grandfather. Hell of a jovial dude, let us go extra long on the bumper cars.

We’ve been getting back into foraging and trying to wrap our heads around the native food ways of the folks who lived this land thousands of years ago. It means something to learn from the folks who fostered and survived in this land prior to colonization. Right now the garage is full of black walnuts and acorns waiting to be processed into flour, liquor and stains.

Their hands looked like this for a week. Cashiers definitely looked twice before accepting bills.

An uncooperative model.

Littered throughout Utica are these signs professing one guy’s ideology is a pseudo-scripture sort of prose. Maybe if I turn over enough stones I can get a story.

Likewise there is a graveyard around the corner from our house with headstones reaching back into the 1700’s.

There’s lots of little gems in this place. Maybe the novelty just hasn’t worn off yet, but so far it’s a cool little town. Found the bar where the 30+ year old weirdos congregate, been to some local shows, chatted with a bunch of strangers…all the necessities for home. For now it’s time to enjoy the apples and make stocks and jams for the long winter up here. Getting ready to hunker down a bit and maybe do some ice fishing if I can get in good with the fellas I see in the middle of lake Oneida.

P.S.: This show fucking sucks, do not recommend.