The weekly post that features pictures that didn’t land anywhere else. They can safely land here, though. Let’s let them, shall we?
Last week we had friends in town. Here’s one of them now, modeling a weird hat:
All week long a few students have been working on an art display. They called it stained glass. Really it is various colors of tape. Details aside, when they were finished on Thursday, and you saw it in the evening, it was nice:
Here’s another one:
I took a ride on a familiar route, but the opposite direction. I did this for the one hill that lets you coast almost 1.2 miles down to the end of the road and the next hill, which offers you three miles of climbing. It is a longer climb than the normal direction, which is harder and faster. Also, everything is on the wrong side of the road, which means you notice different things. Like this, which I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed before:
Catching my breath, and looking back whence I came, at the soon-to-be setting sun:
This was on the dessert stand in the cafeteria at lunch:
I did not eat any of them, nor did I even try to use my standard rationale: I ran five miles this morning. I can eat a cake. I think it was something about the message. Why does one eat love? How does one eat faith? You could go the metaphorical route, aim for the biblical teaching or, like me, just be a little weirded out by pink icing.
If you stare at those for a second you realize someone wrote all of those out by hand. That’s another thing. How do you expect me to eat that? You wrote faith on a cake square and now I devour it in two bites?
And what of the hope? 1 Corinthians is hardly complete without it.
Man, this is a great diet plan I’ve discovered, huh?
So, yeah, five miles. I can do six miles, no problem. (I do not know what is happening … ) I once knocked out eight miles around the neighborhood, with a fair bit of walking in it. But, still, eight miles. Here’s the problem: I need something to ward off the boredom. Around mile six I’m just ready to move on. Any tips?
Things to read … because you can always find helpful tips if you read enough.
I’m a big fan of making sure students never ask a rhetorical question in their copy. There are times it works. Too often, though, it leads to things like this non sequitur, “Are you a Red Bull Drinker? Do you want to be?” Red Bull Settlement: How to claim your piece of $13 million
Wright, who wore clothes he borrowed from Leonard, pleaded with the court to spare his son, who is facing the death penalty for fatally shooting three people and wounding three others during a party at the former University Heights apartment complex on June 9, 2012.
The dad is in and out of prison, he tells the judge and jury he was never really in his son’s life. He’s actually been hauled to this hearing from his prison sentence. And he’s had to borrow his son’s clothes. The reporter told me he’d noticed that the tie was familiar. He’d seen the defendant, and now his father, wear it. That’s the sort of reporting you can’t get over the phone or in a rewrite. Message: Go to the place you’re writing about.
We need to reshape how markets and financial stories are told to better reflect how they are consumed. What do I mean by that? Like most news sites, MarketWatch still leans too heavily on the 750-word story — a legacy of print newspapers that has outlived its usefulness. We want to go shorter – and longer.
The majority of our stories will soon be under 400 words — breaking everything down into short bursts of news and insight that cut straight to what is most important to readers, without all the empty calories and filler journalists love to stuff in the sausage . We will also do longer, deep dives on important stories that warrant such treatment. This is the way the digital news is going: tall and venti, no more grande.
Now that mobile traffic is at or near 50% at many newspapers, editors and publishers need to put ever more of their thinking – and resources – into optimizing products, content and advertising for not only smartphones and tablets but also for such emerging devices as smart watches, smart televisions and whatever smart stuff comes next. As discussed below, mobile publishing is as distinct from web publishing as web publishing is from web printing.
And it is happening fast, too, as expected. (For a few years now I’ve noted that the mobile move was one thing that was outpacing the web’s legendary rapid adaptability.)
The maples always give up first. They are always noticeable. This is the first one of the year, and this is how it will go from here on in. Leaves and things falling onto the car, into the yard and showing the thinning trees and the sticks. It is demoralizing, even without the symbolism. But this is how it goes, a bright red, a shocking yellow and then browns and grays and the long, deep holding of one’s breath until the first buds of spring.
I think it will be harder this year.
Slept a lot of yesterday afternoon away. I was just so tired all weekend. Of course by the time I’d recouped enough to feel close to normal evening had arrived. By the time my third wind arrived I was wide awake for the witching hour. So I got a few things off the DVR, at least.
Up early this morning, and then subsequently at ’em. If they ever figure out we’re at ’em things are going to change. No one ever discusses that, but it is a distinct possibility we have to consider.
Class today and then office stuff and helping with a few story ideas. I had dinner at a place where the menu said one price and my ticket indicated another, higher one. I pointed this out to the server, a cheerful woman who has seen me enough to offer a really solid — but incorrect — guess about what I was having for dinner. She laughed it off. I’ll remember that when I don’t go back anytime soon.
After dinner, this was my view:
Which wasn’t bad, really. The maple leaves are getting drunk and falling down, but the temperatures are still nice and comforting and warm.
Things to read … because reading is comforting, and can keep you warm — if you’re someplace warm.
He might not be presidential timber, but he’s an interesting man. This is another little insight into the man from Massachusetts, Mitt Isn’t Ready to Call It Quits.
The post of the week that is nothing but pictures. (Other days with a lot of pictures don’t count.) These pictures haven’t landed on the site, they’re holdovers, orphans, random things or whatever you like. They just need to go somewhere, and this is where they are going.
Farming, you’re doing it wrong. This was somewhere in central Georgia:
A Coke ghost sign in Augusta, Georgia:
An old distribution center on Reynolds in Augusta, Georgia. There was no signage, but there’s some yard behind it, a berm and then the river. Maybe it once was a shipping stop:
Also back at the race last weekend, there was a sign by a good-natured heckler:
And another message on a van in the parking deck:
Hard to call this one a ghost sign, it is holding up well, but this is also from Augusta:
How this Augusta street sign doesn’t get stolen every Thursday night is beyond me:
A flower on the Auburn campus:
A bee, also on the Auburn campus:
I donned the good luck sweatshirt, circa 1995, for the game yesterday:
The gameday button:
Finally, a sign taped to the wall in the restroom:
The Yankee, playing cornhole at the tailgate. I don’t think she’s ever played before. Of course she won.
What follows are just fan pictures. Scroll through and enjoy. It will only take a second:
This first batch are all at the tailgate, of course:
Some people just drink too much …
The hostess of the best tailgate in town:
Her shirt stands for “What Would Bo Jackson Do?” Behind her, he was receiving the Walter Gilbert Award, sort of a lifetime achievement honor. All of this was awesome:
We’d said something to her like “We have guests here and we have to show off. You’re going to be loud, right?” She took this as a personal challenge.
This is what happens when you use one shaker for 11 seasons:
