FIELD NOTE // FN-012 | LOCATION: BART, East Oakland| DATE: 2025-12-14
"Supa-FLY," said my longtime friend Hitika when I showed her the shot. For the life of me, how could my mind NOT find that word first? If it's not written in the pillowy-soft fibers of his shock-white hat, it's practically spelled out across the three bow ties. Hitika, you've earned a vernacular award today.
It was a meandering kind of afternoon, one of those pockets where time itself feels irrelevant. No plans, just actions. My action: get outside, get coffee, end the (fun) isolation. A major code refactor, testing, and git pushes will do that to you.
Late afternoon. Me with my camera (no real intention of using it…though even before Mister Supa-FLY, I'd spotted this perfect juxtaposition of abandoned pink luggage at the bus stop outside the station). And then: him. Undeniable. Loud. Vibrant. Eye-catching fashion I mistakenly assumed was bound for a party or costume event.
The big white fuzzy hat, matched in scale only by those big eyes, magnified through thick-rimmed spectacles. Flair was not to be spared. Checkerboard suit. A sparkly butterfly brooch that almost seemed alive when you weren't looking directly at it. A cut face and jawline straight out of old Hollywood.
Five microseconds of him entering my frame. Virtually no hesitation,yay!, to ask (more of a comment/command): "I have to take your picture. Incredible style."
He thought about as long and said: “sure, you can take my picture.”
Stubbornly, because I was more focused on getting into the station, I fumbled with the camera. Luckily I got almost everything right—aperture priority, dialed in—but my ISO was stuck at 1600. Fortunately, I'm actually fond of Panasonic's grain across the sensors I've tried. It has a filmic vibe. Bug or feature? Either way, I got the moment. No one else coming or going, so there was some threshold for my fumbling and his gracious patience for a stranger.
I asked where he was going—expecting some extravagant black-tie affair—only to be hit with: "Oh, just another day."
The character identified himself as Red.
Yeah, right, I thought. But I was grateful for the picture.
In Field Note [FN-003], I mentioned the man in the blue fedora—the man who almost got away. Sometimes you're ready; sometimes you're only halfway ready. This time, camera in hand, undeniably right in front of the subject with my 25mm (50mm equivalent), I was ready enough.
