Remember the Photographs You Never Made

julius motal the phoblographer remember

There was a man in his 40s sitting on a milk crate in front of a building somewhere in the city. Don’t ask me to remember the street name or the neighborhood. I couldn’t tell you, and ultimately it doesn’t matter. I was just walking by. He was holding an accordion on his lap, and he was working through some piece of some song. I’m not an accordion aficionado, and Weird Al loses his edge after a few songs. He seemed to have trouble working through a certain fingering when the young boy standing next to him leaned in and pressed a few of the keys. Continue reading…