iPhone


8
Oct 13

You’ve no choice — you will like the video at the end

I can write my day in one sentence.

In the morning I read, in the afternoon I worked in the library, in the evening I was in the pool and tonight I’m with the student-journalists who are putting their newspaper together.

Which, in the scheme of things, makes this a pretty great day. Dinner could have been healthier, but I promised myself a Milo’s burger if I swam a lot. So it was that I caught up on the morning’s news. I sat in a deep leather chair and watched the reflection of the world in the dark corners of my computer screen poring in from the window behind me.

It was a beautiful day. I had a conversation about it while I was trying to make this panorama. A colleague and I decided we shouldn’t be inside, but rather on the quad:

Photosynth, showing me the errors in my panoramas, but only after I uploaded the thing, ever since I got the app. However, if you are in a picturesque place, that’s a pretty good free app.

I made it to the pool just in time to spend that sunlight-twilight-dusk-darkness period carefully avoiding drowning.

I swam 1.5 miles tonight. I’ve been told by the best swimmer in my house — and probably the best swimmer on our side of town — that I should note these measurements in a different unit. So I swam 2,700 yards.

I do not know what is happening.

Every third lap I did freestyle, so 900 free. And remember, I couldn’t do half a length of any pool like that this summer on account of my shoulder and collarbone.

The last 200 yards or so were even more ragged than usual. I am slow, and it isn’t pretty, but I am pleased.

Then a burger and fries. Finally back to the office for a night enjoying the editors put their paper together. It’ll be done sometime after midnight. It’ll be on newsstands tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be another strong edition.

Things to read, which I thought you might enjoy …

This is, perhaps, the best thing I’ve ever read on HuffPo, Nadine Schweigert, North Dakota Woman, ‘Marries Herself,’ Opens Up About Self-Marriage

The marriage took place among friends and family who were encouraged to “blow kisses to the world” after she exchanged rings with her “inner groom”, My Fox Phoenix reports.

“I feel very empowered, very happy, very joyous … I want to share that with people, and also the people that were in attendance, it’s a form of accountability,” Nadien Schweigert told Anderson Cooper.

So long as you now feel accountable to yourself and, one presumes, for yourself.

This is just about the most offensive story of the day, I should think. Mother of fallen soldier denied death benefits: ‘I won’t ever understand it’:

Collins said she feels lucky to have a job and supervisors who will allow her to take paid time off to take care of her son’s return. For those who aren’t as fortunate, the death gratuity may be critical to their survival and sense of closure.

“While that benefit may not be urgent for me, it’s urgent for somebody. There’s somebody who needs to fly their family home. There’s somebody who needs to have expenses covered, or be able to take off work to handle the affairs of their loved one,” she said. “And to know that the government shutting down will delay their ability to handle their business, some people just won’t be able to do it.

While, financially,she is able to address her son’s return, Collins said she still could use help in paying for his funeral.

“I don’t necessarily have $10,000 to bury my son,” she said. While she is working with the funeral home to make arrangements, she wondered: “Am I going to be on a payment plan for the rest of my life so that my son can have the services that he deserves?”

You also have this feeling that this particular cruelty will be remedied right quickly now that Congress sees it played out in the media. And that should tell you everything you need to know about how the government works.

The best story of the day is an easy one. North Haledon quadruple amputee teen happy to play soccer, motivate others:

Jorge has lived with amputated limbs since he underwent a life-saving procedure at the age of 14 months because of an infection — most likely meningococcal meningitis, Dyksen said. “His skin was just rotting away,” she said. Today, he’s healthy.

It’s not only on the soccer field that Jorge has looked past his physical constraints. He’s also a member of the school bowling team, using both arms to roll a ball without holes. And he’s also prolific at text-messaging, family friend Carla Nash said, hitting away at keys without his prosthetic right hand. In the classroom, he holds a pencil between both arms.

[…]

He said he hopes to be a motivational speaker as an adult. “Because I know there’s people out there that really need motivation and everyone says I always motivate other people,” he said. “I help them get happy in their lives. I’m always smiling and I just feel like that’s the right thing for me.”

Good for Jorge.

You want video? They’ve got video.

“Nothing is impossible,” his teammates say. Special young man, there.


7
Oct 13

The sounds of Monday

Some people don’t get it:

And then they double down:

Because saying that, perhaps, you didn’t play that as well as, perhaps, you could and that, perhaps, people are put off by it is, perhaps, a step too far.

Made my fourth visit to the tuxedo rental store in the last month this morning. There is a wedding in which I will participate next weekend. To recap, I am trying to match up a rental tux with the one other civilian, a man I’ve yet to have the pleasure of meeting, in the wedding who owns his own. I first visited the local shop and left with something of a poor impression. I visited a sister store after work one day and found a more enthusiastic reply. So I returned to the original shop. The gentleman there had already begun inputting my data in the archaic 1997 software system they use for rentals. The second guy, at the second shop, who’s manly look and brusque attitude suggested he knew about making a man look good in fine clothes, was only countered by fingers so thick they couldn’t hit the keys, and an apparent misunderstanding about how form fields work.

So the first store again, last week, where I rented the tux. Same guy. Same uneasy feeling of general uncertainty. But it got rented. Last night, from the wedding party, I was informed of further details to consider and, ultimately, change. So that was this morning.

“We’d be happy to help with that, just as soon as I struggle with the system for 15 minutes because we can’t boot even boot DOS Shell on these machines and the cursor buttons are broken because of storeroom angst and won’t you please by this tiny cube of collar stays for $9 or this fancy tie blotting napkin for $18. How about some $100 jeans while you’re here? Our software is terrible, but Fred Flinstone is in the back coaxing the bird into hammering the text into the stone faster.”

“Also, that’ll be a $40 late upgrade fee.”

It was during this experience when I considered the customer vs. employee experience. All these expensive pieces of handsome finery, and you can’t even give your crew a workable system? Or hardware from this century?

“You’re going to love the way we telegraph in your order, I guarantee it.”

It turns out that the tuxedo will ship the original order. And then ship the subsequent late additions. This will all be delivered by the middle of the week, so at least they have one part of the PDQ distribution model down, but not the parts that make logistical sense.

So I’ll go back to the tuxedo rental place late Thursday, for the fifth visit, so they can check to see if any alterations are necessary. And I can pick it up on Friday, the sixth visit.

I could have made the tuxedo, if only I had the pattern.

And then there was a stop at the gas station. I chose the one that orbits outside a big box store, that has four pumps, eight hoses and 16 square feet of parking lot to maneuver into. I hate this gas station, but it is the second cheapest in town and it was on a direct path to get my oil changed.

And that was done quickly. They did not spray my door hinges with WD-40, which is a part of the experience that I found I missed. The guy ran through the safety check himself, so I did not get to do the lights, the high beams or the blinkers — or as he did it: libeamblink!. I did get to tap the breaks and honk the horn. The air filter continues to be a marvel of modern technology. All of the fluids and belts and hoses look good. All of this the guy said in 2.4 seconds, which gave me something to decode for the next 10 minutes and gave him an air of cool efficiency. Nothing was wasted, no move was unnecessary, and could you sign the receipt a little faster, please and thank you?

Then work. A fight with the copy machine. A last minute tweak to the afternoon class plan. Then the class itself. Notes, notes, notes, editing, and then an editing exercise. All very riveting for probably me alone.

Most people don’t find editing to be a gripping part of their classroom experience, and you can’t blame them for that.

Then some office time with office stuff. I went to the pool, but was mysteriously locked out. Through the door you could hear the sounds of what you might interpret as people having fun. Or, perhaps they were the sounds of people being chased by a horror movie character.

So back to the office then. Some work. And then dinner. And then some more reading and writing and … that’s pretty much the day.

Things to read which I found interesting today:

The Newest Journalism:

These days, the web seems a bit less wild and more polished. Everywhere you look, there are signs that publishers are importing traditional journalism values to the constantly shifting digital environment. The web continues to do what it does better than print—delivering on-the-minute stories with a conversational tone to an always-connected audience—and the blog post, as one distinct unit of digital journalism, still offers what Andrew Sullivan called in 2008 “the spontaneous expression of instantaneous thought…accountable in immediate and unavoidable ways to readers.” But increasingly, digital journalism does its business while embracing certain core beliefs typically associated with old media.

I just did a presentation on that not too long ago. Nice to know you’re not the only one that notices shifts and changes, big and subtle.

The visual arms race of cable TV sets is now joined. Fox News debuts bizarre, giant tablets in its outrageous new newsroom:

Fox says the new “news deck” is designed to appeal to viewers who are “nonlinear” — those who sift through news all day on their phones and computers. “Just like you, we get our news from multiple platforms,” Smith says, “and this is the place where viewers can watch us sort it all out as it happens.” In other words, Fox’s new newsroom will serve as a fact-checking machine for Twitter’s firehose.

I wonder if this will stay awkward looking, or if we’ll become accustomed to it.

This seems like a bad idea. ‘Truckers for the Constitution’ Plan to Slow D.C. Beltway, Arrest Congressmen:

“We are not going to ask for impeachment,” Conlon said. “We are coming whether they like it or not. We’re not asking for impeachment, we’re asking for the arrest of everyone in government who has violated their oath of office.”

Conlon cited the idea of a citizens grand jury – meaning a pool of jurors convened without court approval – as the mechanism for indicting the officials.

“We want these people arrested, and we’re coming in with the grand jury to do it,” he said. “We are going to ask the law enforcement to uphold their constitutional oath and make these arrests. If they refuse to do it, by the power of the people of the United States and the people’s grand jury, they don’t want to do it, we will. … We the people will find a way.”

The best thing I’ve read today, and well worth your time, hence the long excerpt. Give Us This Day, Our Daily Senate Scolding:

The disapproval comes from angry constituents, baffled party elders and colleagues on the other side of the Capitol. But nowhere have senators found criticism more personal or immediate than right inside their own chamber every morning when the chaplain delivers the opening prayer.

“Save us from the madness,” the chaplain, a Seventh-day Adventist, former Navy rear admiral and collector of brightly colored bow ties named Barry C. Black, said one day late last week as he warmed up into what became an epic ministerial scolding.

“We acknowledge our transgressions, our shortcomings, our smugness, our selfishness and our pride,” he went on, his baritone voice filling the room. “Deliver us from the hypocrisy of attempting to sound reasonable while being unreasonable.”

So it has gone every day for the last week when Mr. Black, who has been the Senate’s official man of the cloth for 10 years, has taken one of the more rote rituals on Capitol Hill — the morning invocation — and turned it into a daily conscience check for the 100 men and women of the United States Senate.

And, finally, Picle still doesn’t know how to embed. But I still like the concept of a photo (or series) mixed with audio I can record and put together on my phone. It takes 10 seconds, and only needs an embed function. This has been around for a year now, so maybe someone else has an app. Let me check … Anyway, this is the day the weather broke. The sun is high, but it seems farther away. The air is dry and the evening is almost crisp. This is the first night it seems possible, I wrote on Twitter that we could lose that beautiful summer symphony.

Every year you hear the first one, but never the last.


24
Sep 13

Transferring 14,233 files – 6 percent complete

Spent the day transferring data on computers. You know how that goes, right? Here are a bunch of files on this machine. But this machine is going to be replaced by that machine. So you have to move all of these directories and files from here to there.

Fortunately I have a great server I can connect to and swap out files. Unfortunately I have a lot of big files. A lot. And big ones. So this took Much of the day and night.

And then the process of making sure you don’t need any of those other files. And then double checking that, because once you return this computer it is over, pal.

And then loading new software on the new machine. Only you don’t have all of the software, so you have to track people down tomorrow. No matter, though.

Tonight the students are working on the newspaper. Two weeks ago, on their first issue, they were in the newsroom until 5 a.m. Last week it was 3 a.m. Here’s to hoping that’s a trend.

But they working hard and laughing and sound like they are enjoying their evening. They do good work and ask a few questions and I’m impressed by the quality of work they are producing in just two weeks. They have a great deal of potential.

Went for a swim tonight. I did 1.25 miles. That’s 45 laps, or 90 lengths, if you are counting. It has to be the greatest distance I’ve ever traveled in water that didn’t include a boat or inner tube.

I did 250 yards with a breaststroke. It was slow. It was probably sloppy. And I was exhausted from just that. This summer I could do about four strokes before I had to stop because of my shoulder, so 250 sloppy yards is a tremendous improvement. Someone should have been there to give me a high five.

Well, maybe a low five.

I do not know what is happening.

Also, people need to learn how to swim in lanes. I’d complain, but the guy might read this and just keep distractedly swim right on to my side.

The Samford football team wrapping up practice:

Seibert Stadium

Pat Sullivan just rejoined the team. The head coach had spinal fusion surgery and missed the first three games of the season, but returned on Saturday to coach from a booth above the field.

I’ve interviewed Sullivan. We’ve shook hands. He’s 63 and has paws made of stone and fingers made of iron. Some of his players have been in my classes. I’ve dismissed classes early and watched his players stay in the room. Because, I was told, “Coach said the class runs until 5:30, I don’t want to see you down here until 5:30. Stay in the class.” He’s a good man. A solid, certain, Southern gentleman. The kind of man you’d want to grow up to be like.

I don’t know if he is back at practice yet, out in the gloom and rain and under the low clouds — you can see them clinging to the top of the mountain — but I know that’s where he wants to be.

Things to read: Full of stories I’ve enjoyed today, which you might appreciate as well.

Since we were talking about football, did you hear the one about the team who’s bus caught fire last weekend? It was a small college in Alabama. Concordia-Selma was on their way to a game at the time:

Concordia, a small United States Collegiate Athletic Association school located in a city more famous for its role in the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s than anything, saw all of its football equipment, $90,000 worth, including their only set of jerseys, get destroyed in a freak bus fire on its way to play Miles College this past Saturday.

In the days since the incident, the team has drawn closer and others have been drawn to it, donating everything from shoulder pads to girdles so the Hornets can continue their season Thursday at 6 p.m. in Demopolis against West Alabama.

[…]

“It’s made us value each other, made us value life more,” (freshman Treyvond) Moore said. “We look at those pictures and we’re like, ‘Man, that could’ve been us. But it wasn’t. It’s just brought us together as a team. I feel like can’t nothing divide us.”

The local story, with another incredible picture of the bus that carried 62 people:

We have about 10 helmets left,” (head football coach Don) Lee said. “We lost jerseys, camera equipment, shoulder pads, everything. Right now, we’re trying to figure out what we need and where to get it from.”

Lee said he had received a call from Dallas County High School, which offered some shoulder pads to the program, but that won’t be enough to meet the demands of a college program scheduled to play its next game Thursday. Concordia College-Ann Arbor in Michigan has also called and offered aid.

“We are still going to play Thursday,” Lee said of the Hornets’ scheduled game in Livingston against the University of West Alabama. “UWA has been great. Their coach called me Saturday afternoon, while we were still on the side of the road, asking if there was anything they could do.”

Deadspin examines Sports Illustrated’s Oklahoma State story and their ultimately thoughtful critique can be shared in one concise sentence:

At the exact point where the hard work started, SI stopped.

Time: Little Boy To Kenya Gunman: ‘You’re A Bad Man’

And from the campus blog:

Want to be a freelancer?

“If a bot can write the story better than you, let it

And now back to that computer. And the newspaper. Here’s to hoping it won’t be a 3 a.m. kind of night.

More on Twitter


15
Aug 13

Of men who are spiders, lizards and opened doors

Watched Spider-Man last night, the new one. Peter is raised by President Bartlet and Mary Todd Lincoln. He doesn’t ride a champion horse in a previous life, but there’s still a lot to live up too, movie-wise. Dennis Leary is miscast, the logical conclusion of every joke from the 1980s. Aunt Mae is really Forrest Gump’s mother, after she faked her death in Greenbow. The timelines may match up.

There’s as much wrong with the movie as there is right. Peter Parker is too self-assured. Spider-Man has to be whiny and thoughtful. Imagine what he should be thinking in this scene:

That’s the best Stan Lee cameo so far, I think.

Finally, Emma Stone has always been too soulful to be a high school student, and she’s too old for the part, but cast her wherever you can. And, Gwen gets rid of Mary Jane for this movie, so that’s a victory. But she’s dating a spider, working for a lizard and the daughter of a man with a Cindy Crawford obsession. Poor Skeeter.

Also, Uncle President Ben Bartlet’s voicemail was a moving moment:

But when I watched that scene the second time I realized that the guy having a Rear Window poster in his room was easily the most interesting thing about the character. And that might not be the best endorsement ever.

Now for something kind-hearted: A local non-profit lost almost their entire line of product in the UPS crash in Birmingham yesterday. They employ women in India to keep them out of the sex slave trade. But now they have no product. Freeset is the organization’s name, and by virtue of some of our students’ work I know the excellent reputation they have.

So this nonprofit that just lost their entire inventory, that is worried about what that means for their on-the-precipice employees, is pledging to raise money for the pilots of that UPS flight. All of the proceeds of this Freeset shirt are going to the families.

Some people will amaze you. Some people will never stop doing it.

Ran a 5K tonight, if you count all of the walking. Something was hurting, so I shut it down. Aside from needing the conditioning and having a the benefit of a bit more conditioning and my general lousy form there was no need to press on while a bunch of things hurt.

So I walked a bit.

Saw this sign at the edge of someone’s yard:

sign

A few years ago a local developer wanted to take all this beautiful wooded land that abuts a state park and the running/biking trail and a quiet little wooded neighborhood and put up Just Another Strip Mall. The neighbors fought it. The proposal was yanked. And they haven’t been heard from for several years.

But the sign is ready, and you have to appreciate that sort of vigilance.

You might not go in for poetry slams, but there’s something about this guy that is worth seeing.

There are two nice little moments in there in the second half, but right before the end there’s a big “Whoa” moment. You’re just not really prepared for that. Life surprises you like that sometimes. You have to be ready.

Two new things on Tumblr. A lot more on Twitter.


14
Aug 13

Not the best day ever

I slept in, because I stayed up late, because I had a cup of tea and was wide awake for the next seven hours last night and early this morning.

So when I woke up the story was fully developed. A UPS plane had crashed on final approach into Birmingham. The pictures are horrific. The two pilots were dead. And, thankfully, for a change, I knew precisely where my step-dad was.

He flies out of the same hub as those two pilots. The co-pilot has been named, someone he doesn’t know. We’re still waiting to hear the identify of the pilot. The reporters at al.com have done an incredible job on the story if you’re interested in the latest.

I’m ready to turn away from it. I’ve covered stories about neighbors, became friends with people I covered over time. I’ve reported and written and read about some horrible things people to do to one another and have a healthy detachment.

But I’m invested a bit here, enough to set the whole day off. There were emails and Facebook and a few “That’s not him, is it?” questions.

It was not, but what could have been. I couldn’t tamp down the anxious feelings until the late evening.

sun

So I went out for a little bike ride in the rain, down through the neighborhood, around the roundabout and out the back. I planned to turn left, but as so often happens in the saddle I changed my mind almost mid-turn and went right.

The rain picked up and I smelled the river. The stagnant water at the boat launch. The still and mild decay of a fish. The synthetic carpet of a boat. The funky tinge of artificial bait that has been too long in the tackle box and couldn’t catch anything but weeds. There is no water there, but those were the smells. It made me think of my grandfather, and so I pedaled on.

I started having a tough time seeing through my sunglasses on the rainy, graying road. I enjoy a rainy ride, but this wasn’t quite the same. I hit a sprint stretch, wheeled to the right and realized I was cheating on all the turns. I blamed the new front tire. We don’t know each other yet. It doesn’t trust me to dive into turns yet. If I listen close the hum is saying what could have been?

I was dying on everything. But my socks were getting wet, so my feet were getting heavier and, thus, faster. That’s my theory, anyway. Doesn’t always work. I found myself shifting toward my easiest gears and climbing up the biggest hill of the day, which is no big hill. It is already a forgotten blur. So was most of the rest of the ride. Raindrops and panting. Chickening out in curves, full of unease about them, feeling my bike get lighter the few times I put in some speed.

Somewhere I picked up the smell of an old grandmother’s hairspray, baked in by decades of cigarettes. I don’t know why I smelled these things today, since I usually can’t smell anything. But I love being on my bike because it gives me time to think about things like that, the sensations, analogies and forgetting the whompwhompwhomp of my legs.

I took that picture above just before getting home, dawdling in the sprinkling rain and the purple and orange sky. I lingered to get the right fuzzy shot because a crisp one didn’t fit the mood. I took my time because getting home means going inside means cleaning my bike — the no-fun part of riding in the rain.

And there was still UPS plane talk. What could have been is such a bizarrely odd sensation. I got so distracted I almost gnarled two knuckles of my left hand in the spokes of my bike’s back wheel.

Here’s the last story I’m reading about it tonight:

More than 13,000 bags made by Freeset USA, a local nonprofit that provides jobs to women in Calcutta, India, were among the cargo lost when a UPS cargo plane crashed Wednesday morning near Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport.

The company, which lost what amounted to its entire fall inventory of bags, has decided to begin selling a T-shirt to raise money for the families of the two pilots killed in the crash, according to a news release from the company.

[…]

The company is also worried about its 200 employees, mostly women freed from Calcutta’s sex trade.

People are donating via Twitter. Freeset’s Facebook page says they are working on the design. I know this company through Samford connections. They do incredible work and I’m glad they are involved here. Can’t wait to brag on them. That will be the best thing for a perfectly sad and strange day.