becoming my parents

Last night after a fantastic date with Jamie that included wonderful tapas and conversation, I went home and loaded up my gear to shoot a dance night downtown. Wait, let me be clear, I was hired to do this. While you will often catch me at First Ave or a variety of other clubs late at night (or early in the morning, depending on your point of view), I am there to see live music (usually rock'n'roll) and I am usually surrounded by tame, older hipsters (like myself). This was one of those clubs where people have neon accessories and they are all 18 and high. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, they're 19.Anyway, I am not exaggerating at all when I tell you I saw at least two dozen girls in the club wearing nothing but their bra, panties (thongs usually) and fishnets under their panties. Oh, and stiletto boots, of course. And they were 18 or so (giant black xs on their hands told me they were not 21 yet, because had they been that age I suspect they would have had more fashion sense. Maybe.).I just couldn't stop staring at these women and thinking about the decisions that went into those "outfits" and what their father/uncle/brothers would say if they knew how they were dressed. And yeah, that's when it hit me that I AM OLD. How many times have I said that on this blog this year? Wow, it's really happening. But you know what? I would way rather be old and in my jeans, combat boots and leather jacket than be young and in a thong and fishnets being ogled by these creeps. Man oh man oh man, do I worry about the safety of those young girls.So! That was last night. I was at the club until about 1 am, so that's how this photo counts as my photo for today. And when the project that I was hired for wraps up, I'll send you to the full set. Promise.And for your internet share of the day, I'm sending you to these stunning photos of a lightning storm over the Grand Canyon. Holy cow do I wish I had shot these images!