My friend, the Gentle Author, did a book “The Cries of London”, which featured vintage depictions of street vendors.     We don’t have enough pedestrian traffic here to have street sellers, but we do have plenty of people who stand around on street corners twirling signs at the passing traffic.   So I guess that the “cries” here are mostly silent, but here are a few of the people that I see when I am driving around.

Of course our state is famous for legalizing marijuana.   But, there are some restrictions.   In Pueblo and Manitou Springs you can just walk into any pot shop and buy as much weed as you like (or can afford), as it is a cash only business.   To buy it here in town, you need to have a medical marijuana card from a doctor that says you need it for a medical condition (and plenty of cash).   I would think that this product would sell itself, but this guy was out standing on the street corner to draw business to this shop.   From the great number of these pot shops you might think that we have an enormous number of sick people living here.

Right down the street from that guy I spotted this young lady.   I yelled “Hey Penguin” and she turned so I could take her picture.   She was advertising a vacancy at an apartment complex.

This place is quite near my house, so I often see these guys out.   Whenever business is slow, they make the employees get out to drum up business, in the best tradition of street sellers.  Some days this spot is given over to the barber shop flogging cheap haircuts, and on Valentines Day I saw someone from the shop that sells naughty knickers.

This pirate was advertising for a chiropractor.    Perhaps the treatment included keelhauling or plank walking as well.

These people can be seen all over town at this time of year.   No they are not dressed as the statue of liberty to tax your freedom, they are trying to get you to use their service for having your taxes prepared.   This guy was done with his shift of sign waving and was headed to the office to collect his money.

This distant shot shows one of the many beggars that are out soliciting money.   For this task one needs a hand lettered cardboard sign.  Even if they are out there in the same spot every day, there are no professional looking signs.   Popular slogans are:  anything helps, God bless, homeless veteran, travelling through, etc.

Well it started out as a saint’s day, that meant if you went to mass on that day they might mention him.   Or if you went to St. Patrick’s school, like my brothers, you would get the day off.   But because he is the Irish saint, the day has become a secular holiday, with plenty of drinking (just say “no” to green beer) and the eating of the corned beef and cabbage.   And like many other holidays, his day has become movable instead of fixed,  for instance our fair city’s St. Patrick’s Day parade was held on the Saturday before.   But, I was downtown on the real St. Patrick’s Day for the monthly photo event, and these were a few of the photos I shot.

This homeless guy had trained his little dog to ride on his shoulders.   Some kind person was buying them lunch and they were waiting on it. The local soup kitchen is about three blocks away, but there were plenty of street people out working the lunchtime crowds.

The theme for the day was “the photoing o’ the green”, and I loved this bike going by.

H. Dumpty (not a very Irish name) had on a lovely green outfit, so he fit the theme.

Out enjoying the sunshine before today’s snow, this fellow was sharing an Irish joke with passing folks.

Just a bit of street art, covering up a functional utility box in a pretty way.

I just liked the reflections when I took this picture, and if you look closely, why there’s a photographer caught in the picture.

I’m not sure what St. Patrick would think of the kitsch sold in his honor, or what the day has become.   I’m sure he would like to be known for his saintly deeds in converting the heathens, but at least he is remembered.

On today’s walk, Miss P and I took some time to explore an enormous Christian ministry that is not a church.

Focus on the Family moved to town in 1993 from California (expensive and full of heathens), joining the numerous Christian organizations that are located here.  Focus has four buildings with 526,070 square feet of space that sit on 47 acres of landscaping and parking lots.   This organization was founded by a psychologist, James Dobson, and he started out with just a radio show.   He ran the organization until 2003, then he was a figurehead, and he has totally left the organization now.

Again, it’s hard to show in pictures just how enormous this campus is.

Not shown is the gigantic dish for broadcasting their daily message.   It’s sort of hidden in the back.

There is a visitor center for tourists, they even have a sign out on the motorway (this is very unusual for a private organization, much less one with a religious affiliation).   And they have a bookstore with lots of conservative Christian books, dvd’s, etc. etc.

There are a few bits of art on the grounds.

But overall, it’s impossible not to be impressed by the gorgeous setting, the amazing views of the mountain.

At the height of the organization’s influence they had about 1400 employees.   Now they are down to just over 600, which is still an impressive workforce.    And they still generate controversy, but not as much as they used to.

I’ve ended up going downtown several times recently for a variety of reasons.   And when I was there, I was struck (figuratively, of course) by the beauty of this bear.   They are gorgeous, majestic and somewhat terrifying creatures.

Supposedly there is a real bear that lives in the hills up above my house, but I have only seen traces of him, including wet footprints on the trail.  But you can find images of them around town.

Here’s the bear as patriotic yard art.

This window display shows the two sides of a bear.   The cute and cuddly teddy bear is quite lovable, harmless and friendly.   The Indian has both a bear claw necklace and wears a bearskin around his waist, showing that he is brave and has the spirit of the bear (the fierce bear, not the cuddly bear).

There is even an eating establishment in town just for bears.   I assume that they serve porridge (not too hot, and not too cold, just right).

And if you want your car to be fixed by bears it just might happen.

This local bear was both ferocious and festive.

Okay, I’m sure that you can guess why I took this picture.  Yes, of course it was for the bear.

This poor fellow presides over a bar filled with scantily clad waitresses.   But perhaps he is enjoying it after all, he does have a grin.

Once a month there is a gathering of a few photographers downtown, and we shoot to the theme of the day.   Of course the other photographers all had big fancy cameras, with giant lenses and thick neck straps to show that they are serious about this.   I had my little point and shoot on a wrist strap.   Photography was the original hobby that made you look absent-minded  as you focus on what might make a great shot (now the thing that makes people absent-minded is staring at their phone while attempting to walk down the street).

We were down by the old train station.

It has never been a passenger train station in the time that I have lived here,  although my friend said she actually took a train from here many long years ago when she was a child.   Then it was a popular restaurant for many years.  We would go there to eat Reuben sandwiches (grilled corned beef, sauerkraut and Swiss cheese) and watch the freight trains  and coal carriers as they passed by.   It’s a lovely building, built to last.  I believe at one time it was a Harvey House, back when passenger travel was possible.  Now it sits empty, and homeless people congregate in the park across the street.

These were my “artistic” shots.

They do look different shot in black and white.

There is a mural nearby that celebrates the past.   This appears to show an old guy being dragged onto the train.   What’s this about?

The lone figure in front of the train seems rather sinister,  reminiscent of Simon Legree, the stock villain of melodrama.  That beard and mustache is rather suspicious.

The weight and fate machine was not forgotten in this mural.

This bit shows tourists perusing a sign, perhaps looking a little lost.   They’re here, now what?   Some things never change.