photo


28
Jun 12

A holy roller, and some words about words

Saw this on the road today:

truck

The scripture there, a bit blurry in the picture, is Romans 10:9, “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.”

Do you ever wonder why people share the scripture they share? There’s the precise message, of course, some are motivated by the very specific point. But others, you just think If you have the chance to share one, what would it be? There’s that entire book of them, after all.

Mine is Philippians 2: 1-4.

Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.

That’s a lot to live up to, but worthy of aspiration.

What’s yours?

Anyway, all down the side the truck had this great pastoral church setting. The truck was owned by a small company from Georgia. On the hood, where you’d normally find the truck’s ornament, was a giant rounded cross.

It is a two lane highway, so I didn’t get the chance to see what was on the other side of the trailer. We can only wonder.

Finished the biggest part of that paper I mentioned earlier this week. Tonight, as I was dabbling in the last section of it, my entire Macbook froze on the F3 exposé. Also Chrome shut down separately from all of that. Chrome — We were good, once, for about six weeks! — at least has the restore tabs function. Otherwise I’d have become convinced that the electromagnetic field around me had gotten off kilter today and that this paper was destined to never be finished.

Earlier in this project we encountered a few server query problems that kept locking up as we tried to gather data. Earlier this week I managed to spill a full glass of tea all over the notes about my data. Taken altogether this has been comical, though it didn’t feel like it at the time.

But I passed my section on late this evening to The Yankee, who’s coordinating this project into a an impressive bit of brilliance. I wedged 23 citations into 11 pages with 2,500 words, most of them I wrote three and four times. Some of them good, even. Some could stand for some extra polish.

Any takers?

Tomorrow: two percent more typos, 12 percent more photographs, three percent funnier! Just a prediction.


27
Jun 12

Picture filler

Just working on work things today, writing a bit. Forgive me if there isn’t much here.

Here are some leftover pictures from the Art Walk held downtown a few weeks ago. You’ll remember, if you follow that link, that one full block of Magnolia turned into a road of kids young and old writing in the street.

There’s a crosswalk in the middle, and a couple of young adults claimed that area as their own. They were insistent that you see their art in the right order. This was very important, in the way that art must be explained. So I am sharing the crosswalk art in the proper order.

Nice sentiment, as far as it goes:

crosswalkart

crosswalkart

crosswalkart

crosswalkart

crosswalkart

crosswalkart

Rode 30 miles this evening, up and out through the neighborhood and over the side of one of the big hills, marveling at my dead legs. Then down the hill, reveling in gravity, and turned around to go back up the hill, looking for my legs.

I circled part of the bypass, and then up one of the false flats, past the airport, over the interstate and back into our part of town.

The local cycling club has a time trial course nearby, a road we ride frequently. But now I’m trying to ride the entire thing with time in mind. Today was the second attempt at that, which was not as good as the first. Mostly I’m slow, but also I found myself concentrating so much on breathing I messed up the math involved in timing myself. So I gave in a bit early, feeling defeated when my previous time clicked by just before I made it to the finish of the time trial. I’m just riding against myself here, so there’s no real shame in exhaustion and bad math.

Mostly, though, this ride was not as good as my first attempt because I’m slow.

RIding at a tongue wagging, eye bulging, rib ragged way has a lot upside, the best being that you seem to breathe so much better afterward. After, that is, you can breathe again. And so I doubled up on the course, back down half the time trial course, over that same hill from earlier and sped through a subdivision, chasing an SUV in a sprint I wish I had in that time trial — sometimes the great challenge is putting it all together at the right time, that’s why I keep coming back to this I guess. Finally into some nice downhills. That’s a great end to the route, helping satisfy my last goal of any ride: make it back into the house without sounding like I’m hypoxic.

Such a simple thing, two wheels and respiration. Everything in between needs improvement, though.

But there’s always that next ride. Always the chance to have a great kick up a hill. Always that voice in the back of the helmet: smile when it hurts. Especially when you’re in the middle of the road.

Thanks for stopping by. Come back tomorrow for … something. In the meantime, check out the Tumblr page, where a new picture landed today. And the Twitter account, which had a lot of good reading today. And none of it was filler.


25
Jun 12

Fore!

Golfers, even woeful hacks like me, should never let cobwebs grow on their golf bag. And yet they have. We haven’t played since we moved into the new house, so at least two years. And maybe closer to three. Who can say?

But we have the opportunity next month to play on a course of some fabled significance and we are now working under the impression that a few short rounds between now and then at the local municipal course will improve our game to simply galling.

So we asked a friend of ours — when he met each of us separately, introduced himself by asking if we golfed — to walk nine with us today. He’s probably one of the better duffers in town and, maybe, it’ll rub off on us.

Rob

You can pay for golf lessons, but simple instructions go just as far for people like me — the guy who can hit most every stick in his bag, just never on command. I noticed … come to think of it … that he spent more time coaching The Yankee than he did with me. But I did get some nice putting advice. Nicklaus knows I need it.

Now The Yankee …

Rob

We’ll, she’s just naturally athletic. Good at everything. Check her out on the seventh hole:


24
Jun 12

Catching up

Where homeless pictures land, happy to find some place to finally belong after too much floating on my phone or my camera or on the desktop or in Photoshop.

My pictures have a very transient life, it seems.

This edition has about two weeks worth of material. It is like going back in time, of a sort.

You are here. We saw this somewhere in Tennessee. The trailer wasn’t much more specific than that. But visitors could rest comfortably in the knowledge that, as soon as an errant ash from the owner’s dangling cigarette caught the breeze they might very literally be somewhere else:

sign

Crabford, the pool crab, says hello. He rides around in the car a lot, too:

Crabford

This folk art can be found at one of the booths at Moe’s Original Bar-B-Q, where the biggest mistake they’ve ever made is encouraging people to scribble on their walls. If you’re having trouble picking out the detail, the crudely drawn character on the left is a terrified “Guy from Alabama.” The heroic and vibrant illustration on the right they’ve labeled as “Aubie Tiger.”

graffiti

Perhaps I’m a traditionalist, but I liked it better when this was still painted on barns.

Clark Byers, an Alabama native, painted this on barns in 19 states, ranging from 1937 until 1969. He had about 900 barns under his built, offering to give the buildings a new coat of paint if the farmer would let him put the famous slogan on the roof. He died in 2004 at the age of 89. I remember writing that year “We can never look at barns the same.”

Rock City

Well, I have a terrific life and asking for much more would just sound greedy. So, fortune accomplished:

fortune

The Yankee on the Ocoee River, near Benton, Tenn.:

River

The ones where she pretends to fall in the river we’ll just keep in the family collection:

River

We have an old grill brush tucked under the roof of the back porch, conveniently located next to the grill. Last year the squirrels stole it twice. (They couldn’t figure out how to get it over the privacy fence, apparently.) This year they’ve just decided to skip the takeout menu:

squirrel

After a while I managed to get Allie to notice:

Alliesquirrel

A few days later she took a nap with some of her toys. This is one spoiled kitteh:

Allie

We went to the local bike club’s time trials last week, just to watch. This guy hammered it home:

sign

They post the participants’ times on the website later. I did the course the next day. I’m slower than everyone that showed up that evening:

sign


23
Jun 12

Bikes and cycling for gawking

More bikes to check out from this morning’s race. If you’d like to contribute to my Cervelo fund (now standing at $0!) I would think you the most awesome reader ever. Please make donations in amounts divisible by $100.

(I kid about all of this, of course. These are very nice bikes, though.)

Specialized

Cervelo

Trek

Cervelos

I spend a few minutes every so often looking for a great deal on a bike like those. Still looking.

My bike is nice too, mind you, but decidedly more … entry level.

Some of the racers, finishing strong today:

cycling

You’ll notice that both of these guys are already out of their shoes. They’ll hit the the ground running barefoot about 75 feet from here, ready to transition into the running portion of their sprint triathlon:

cycling

cycling

He’s not waving, but changing hand positions to leap from his saddle and turn into a runner:

cycling

Finishing strong:

cycling

cycling