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29
Jan 12

Catching up

This is the weekly opportunity to post a lot of pictures that haven’t yet landed elsewhere on the site. Here’s a handful, there are even more in the January photo gallery.

One day one of the gymnasts will leap into the air and forget to land:

Gymnastics

Look at the expressions on her teammates’ faces in the background:

Gymnastics

Nobody has more fun on the floor than Bri Guy:

Gymnastics

In the Hunt Seat arena. Horses jump things there, and this is currently the extent of my ability to comment on the sport intelligently. I’ll have to fix that:

Equestrian

I’ve never seen Nosa Eguae anywhere around town where he didn’t have a handful of people come talk to him. He likes equestrian events, too, apparently:

Nosa

Oklahoma State’s team is called the Cowgirls. The name is bejeweled on the back of their outfits. It was in juxtaposition of all of their serious, championship-caliber riders. You can just see her championship belt buckle in this shot:

Equestrian

Stop! This is part of the routine:

Equestrian

On today’s big bike ride, mile 20, middle of nowhere and feeling fine:

Cycling

At 26.4 miles in I’ve already gotten lost, figured out where I missed a turn and thought to myself “You’ve always wanted to see what is happening in Crawford. Press on …”

Here’s Crawford in a nutshell, an unincorporated community of perhaps less than 1,000 people, it was settled in 1832, as Crocketsville. A few decades later the state legislature changed the name. It boasts one of the oldest Masonic lodges in the state. A prominent church was built in 1910 using bricks from the original county courthouse. You can apparently see some of the workers’ (slaves mostly) handprints in those old courthouse bricks now making up the church.

Didn’t see that church, I was going in the wrong direction. Not sure about the history of this building though:

Cycling

Nothing happening at the local co-op, about 34 miles into the ride:

Cycling

I don’t know if the church planners put this place up with an idea of how the sunsets would play, but it worked out for them:

Cycling

This next picture is 41 miles into my ride. I’ve been here before — behind where I’m standing as the photographer there is a gas station full of nice people that sold me Gatorade one hot summer day last year — but I didn’t notice this advertisement:

Cycling

It is safe to say this mural is pre-1980, when Texaco drilled on Louisiana’s Lake Pelgneur and accidentally pierced the roof of the Diamond Crystal salt dome beneath the lake:

Within seven hours the entire 1,100-acre lake was empty and two drilling rigs, a tugboat, eleven barges, a barge loading-dock, seventy acres of Jefferson Island and its botanical gardens, parts of greenhouses, a house trailer, trucks, tractors, a parking lot, tons of mud and trees and three dogs had disappeared into the sinkhole at the bottom of the lake. The whole scene was described by witnesses as resembling a draining bathtub with boats bobbing around like toys before being sucked under. About 30 shrimp boats that were in the canal were beached as the canal emptied into the sinkhole, and were refloated later when the lake and canal refilled with water. Nine of the eleven barges would eventually pop back to the surface. Amazingly, no human life was lost in this spectacular accident.

What does that say? I haven’t been able to afford exterior paint in 30 years? No one has come along and offered to make it say “See Rock City”? I really like salt and my sodium levels are unfortunately high?

For more Jefferson Island murals, go here.

I wanted to do 60 miles today. This is with about 14 miles to go, and it was the last I would see of the sun:

Cycling

I managed to get 52 miles. It was dark and cold. When you can’t see the bumps in the road you call it an evening. And then you put on several layers to warm up.


19
Jan 12

Another lovely Thursday

Thirty-five miles on the bike today. I stopped around mile to do a little bike maintenance, looked up and saw this sky. (As with all panoramas on the site, click to embiggen.)

Panorama

And that’s winter in the deep south to me. The high was 59 today, but I waited until it got to 57 before taking a ride. Even then I wore a jacket. It was chilly in the breeze and the late afternoon shade. Riding in the sun, or huffing up a hill, the temperature was perfect.

But 35 miles was a great distance for the day. It took me to the other side of little wide spots in the road that I have, on occasion, thought were too far to drive to.

Elsewhere I dabbled in spreadsheets and emails all day. Did some reading. Lot of that coming up tomorrow and beyond, as well. It was a full and lovely day in almost every way, except for the things I did not get done. But what doesn’t get done today will be on the list tomorrow. That’s always the way of it. Tomorrow is often a good second chance.

In the small world department: At dinner tonight we ran into the young lady who last week lost a wheel off her SUV. (We found it in our yard.) She had gotten it back after a rotate and balance at the dealership, but someone neglected to properly mount the front-passenger wheel, which, as gravity insists, is important.

When we saw them last her father had called AAA and was hauling the SUV back to the dealership. She told us tonight that they’d paid for all the repairs. She got it out of the shop and then, immediately, the radiator went bad.

That makes three visits to the dealership in less than two weeks. She needs to catch a break.

Things to read: Textbook publishers? Apple is looking at you:

Digital textbooks available for iBooks 2 on iPad will come at a significant discount over regular paper-based books, with prices at $14.99 or less from major publishers like McGraw Hill and Pearson.

The implications will be widespread.

Who? Whom? Geoffrey Pullum will tell you, in just 786 words.

Is HDR photography acceptable in journalism? Interesting ethical question. Is it news only if it is in the human visible spectrum? (No.) Is it acceptable to publish a photograph treated in any number of techniques as NASA frequently does? (Yes.)

The old-school photojournalism professor — like the man I studied under, a talented old veteran who spent his formative years covering civil rights marches — would say that what is in the viewfinder is the news. His point was that cropping a picture is editorializing. (We all know that even the presence, if not the interaction, of a photojournalist can impact the news event, so in that strictest sense this becomes a thorny issue: any opened shutter is potentially changing the story.) I spoke with a younger photojournalism professor about this recently and he laughed at the notion. To him that is an ideal of a photographer who hasn’t had to get a job in years.

Ultimately, if you open a photo in Photoshop or video in After Effects or your software of choice you can improve the shot, or you can alter your story. After the Iranian faux-missile launch story a few years ago Guardian leapt into the debate. Others have similarly chimed in on both sides of the Photoshop/photojournalism “Does it lie?” issue.

It can, but this is increasingly difficult to get away with. (So don’t be tempted.) It doesn’t even take long to get caught. (To be fair, that one was on the hands of a stringer, and not a staff pro. And herein lies the key, it comes down to trust. It comes down to credibility. So hard to earn, so easy to lose.

Scrupulous photogs, scrupulous people of any industry, know that and guard it credibility with zeal.

And then you get into grey areas. The court won’t let cameras in, so a television station is re-creating “the more absurd aspects” of a corruption trial with muppets. (Video is at the link.) I’m sure it is useful and captivating and will probably be remembered by the newscast’s audience for a good long while, but I could see it also making people queasy, though it is just another way to reach audiences. I bet a lot of the people working on that project never imagined themselves as puppeteers.

Pew research says it is the economy:

The public’s interest in news about the economy far outreaches media coverage of it for the second week in a row this year, with 20 percent of people surveyed saying it was the story they were following most closely, while only 6 percent of news coverage was devoted to it. The week before, 19 percent of people said it was their top story, while 8 percent of coverage was devoted to it. This discrepancy continues a trend from last year, during which the economy was one of the most closely followed stories 32 out of 52 weeks, and was the top story of 2011 with 20 percent of coverage devoted to it. And yet in December alone, there was about twice as much interest in the economy as there was coverage of it.

Even during weeks when the economy was the top story, interest surpassed coverage.

Smart comments on that Poynter story, by the way.

All of these journalism topics land on my Samford blog, should be so inclined. Over there I don’t talk about riding my bike!

I also didn’t talk about the possum that brought the New York City subway to a halt:

The D train was evacuated after arriving at the West Fourth Street station in Manhattan, where a group of police officers, armed with heavy-duty gloves and a canvas bag, were on hand to nab their perp. The officers were turned back, however, after the animal bared its teeth and snarled, the police said.

This, apparently, was a job for the experts. The officers arranged for animal control agents to meet the train in a subway yard next to the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, according to Paul J. Browne, the chief police spokesman. Normal D train service was then resumed, after a 27-minute delay.

I could tell you about The Yankee’s experience with a possum just after we got married. She grew up 45 minutes from New York City and had a similar run-in.

I should probably get her permission before telling that tale though …


15
Jan 12

Catching up

Pictures from today’s bike ride. This one is nine miles in, out near the country club:

About 13 miles in, a few barns by the railroad tracks:

A better shot of one of the barns:

One of the more useless mental games I play on the bike. Whenever Party in the USA comes on the iPod — don’t judge, it is not the worst tune in the world — I take a picture:

Doubling back over the railroad tracks. This bridge doesn’t look like much, but the sign says it will support seven tons:

Believe it or not, this was once one of the better restaurants in the area. But rising prices closed the place late last summer. Doesn’t look like much on the inside these days:

You can tell a lot about a town by the post office:

Not to be outdone, right next door is the town hall:

Across the street:

An abandoned general store about 25 miles into the ride. Note the remnants of the old sign on the right:

Just after I took this shadow portrait I ran across a beautiful white tail doe. I was about 20 feet from her before she ran from the shoulder into the tree line.

Sunset close to home. Just did make it back as the temperatures dipped.


13
Jan 12

Cold enough? Cold enough.

It was a mistake to ride my bike today. Did 30 miles. Most of the first few miles felt pretty bad, but you can’t quit during the warmup. Somewhere around miles 10 through 16 — the most generally downhill section of the route — where the best part of the ride. Everything beyond that was either bad or outright miserable.

The maximum temperature today was 41, the mean was 34. At one point, as I calculated when I got home, I made my own wind chill of 26 degrees. Felt like this guy:

I Pinch

So that means that, between the heat index of July and the wind chill of January I’ve found myself in an 84-degree swing of temperature. In a few days, though, the temps will return to more moderate levels, and then I can struggle through another ride.

We hit Hobby Lobby this evening to round out a few framing projects. The Yankee picked up a matte for a Christmas poster. We found four frames and mattes for over the mantle. We also got a shadow box for a Christmas gift.

The matte guy had to cut our orders because they had no white 8×10 boards ready for a 5×7 print. You buy the large board, he cuts it and charges you labor. But he gave us the remainder of the board — we’d bought it after all — for the next matted project.

It wasn’t until after we left that I thought “We should have asked for the 5×7 holes. We could have had 4×6 opens cut out of them.” You know, for when you want to get really crazy with your framing projects.

Visited World Market, which was just next door and had cluttered every window with giant signs advertising furniture sales. We have a few pieces from World Market, and they’re not bad at all. And, since we’re soon going to be looking for another decorative piece of wood inside which we can store things, we thought we’d visit.

They did not have anything interesting.

So, then, the grocery store, the frozen crab. Pasta and various accompanying vegetable things were purchased. Chicken and tomatoes and artichokes were mixed with a wheat noodle in a light oil. I’d endured 30 miles on my bike, I felt no guilt in the carbohydrates.

I did not notice it was Friday the 13th until someone else remarked how they hadn’t noticed it was Friday the 13th. (I’d forgotten again by the time I was ready to publish this.) Wonder what that means?


10
Jan 12

Rainy day

Looked like this all day:

Rain

We did have our weekly breakfast at the Barbecue House, though. That was the brightest, sunniest part of the day. Otherwise it was warmish and gray. I believe the “sun” — that mythical ball of burning hydrogen out in space — called it quits around 3 p.m.

Not that you’d know. The gray just got grayer, so it is all supposition.

Went out to watch a swim meet, but got stuck in traffic. There was a fender-bender on a two lane road and no one moves. I was five cars back — just far enough back that I could not see what the problem was — and no one moved. The third car, the first one not in the accident, must have never seen a crash before. I imagine the driver was gripped with fear. “Now what? I’d go into the oncoming lane, but there’s already been one crunched bumper. No police officer or insurance agent should have to work one small crash in the same place!”

And so we sat, and sat, and sat. The guy behind me had enough, and he and I swapped lanes, cruised by and continued on with our lives. Later, when we realized the swim meet was a bust, I took a different route home. Who knows how the shattered headlight glass was holding things up down that little road.

In the subdivision then, there’s an SUV parked at a weird angle on the road. It looked like the driver was turning into the driveway and just gave up. A bit farther down I was preparing to show him how it was done — “See? Allll the way in the drive … ” — when I noticed a tire in our yard.

There should be no tire in our yard.

A young man is walking around the SUV, which has only three tires on it. He is OK. His father was driving, he is also OK. This is his daughter’s SUV. He’d just had serviced yesterday. She complained of how it was handling so he got in to take it for a spin. He’d made it about 100 yards and this happened:

Tire

So this is the drama of the neighborhood. The tire flung off — we think all of the lug nuts were either not returned or improperly attached. We only found one lug nut.

One of the bolts had been sheered off. Some of the rim had been bored out from the damage. The fender well had been cracked.

When the tire slipped off it spun back and up, denting the fender and damaging the running board. The alignment, the disc, the suspension were all damaged.

And here is the AAA wrecker pulling the truck on to take back to the dealership. Note the gouge in the road:

The father was relieved he’d been driving rather than his daughter. All were relieved it happened in the neighborhood rather than the interstate. Dad said the dealership has worked on his cars for years. All agreed it was an honest mistake.

So we met some neighbors we did not previously know. The dad is an attorney. His daughters are in school at nearby Southern Union. His son, who may be about 14, is on pace to become the next crocodile hunter. Apparently he removed an 8-foot alligator from a pond across town last summer by himself.

Do not mess with that kid.

And that’s an exciting evening in our quiet little neighborhood.