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thrown out of a cemetery

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2003.02.23

The city was dumped on last night by rain that turned to sleet and then thick snow. This morning everything is slick and impassable. As usual, I headed out with my camera to have a look at the city. Deciding quickly that the sidewalks were too icy, I headed into the cemetery via the usual route of hopping the fence at the edge of the bridge. As usual when photographing anything in the cemetery, I was passed by joggers and the like.

Then one of the cemetery's rentacops stopped his car where I was rephotographing a tomb that I hadn't yet successfully shot. He told me that the cemetery was closed, and furthermore that I wasn't allowed to take photos of any tombstones! I told him I'd been doing it on a regular basis for six months now, but he said that it was cemetery policy that a visitor check in and get permission to photograph the tombstone that they wanted. I took this to mean seeking permission with every stone! I told him, "okay," and headed for the exit on Yonge St. It was locked when I got there, and when I used the provided phone to talk with the security people, I was told that someone would be right over.

Fifteen minutes later I stopped waiting and joined a jogger who was similarly stuck in the cemetery in hopping a different fence (at a place she knew).

rand()m quote

Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.

—Oscar Wilde