Thursday


28
Apr 22

A stroll down memory lane, and some basic site stuff

I changed a visual element of my website today. This is the first time it has been changed in 15 years, which is an unreasonable amount of time. It’s a front-end thing, and you’ll never notice it. No one will even be aware that this particular thing has changed. But, if you look at the top of the page, or the tab you’re reading here, you might figure it out.

Tomorrow I have to start looking at viewership data at the office, so this evening I examined some of my own YouTube metrics. There’s a wealth of information in the analytics dashboard these days. You could go blind and silly trying to put all of it into some sort of coherent explanation. None of it makes sense.

All of it makes sense. How it is reflective of user habits makes very little sense. Let us, for example, consider a few videos and a key metric, the average percent viewed. The scope covers the month of April.

(And, before we dive in, I must say: If you press play on any of these videos, watch them to the end, or you might throw off the whole analysis, or at least the space-time continuum.

This video is from 2017. It is Dunnet Head, the most northerly point of the mainland of Great Britain. (The most northern Scottish isle is still some 170 miles farther on.)

Scapa Flow – a prime naval base region for the British and the final resting place of much of Germany’s WW1 high seas fleet – is out there in the distance. Today petroleum, tourism and diving are big. Here, you are asked to imagine standing watch, like the British boys of the 1930s and 1940s did.

The people that have watched that this month have watched an average of 92.1 percent of the video.

This is a video last fall from The Yankee recovering from her first popliteal artery entrapment surgery.

It’s a seemingly rare problem, involving compression of one of the arteries in the leg because of muscle development. A week before that video she limped back into the house after the procedure at the Cleveland Clinic. Every day was a bit more walking. She started rehab on that leg a week later. (Last month she had surgery on the other leg. Today she went out for her second post-op run. We had our first bike ride last weekend.)

The people that have watched that this month have watched an average of 94.9 percent of the video.

This video is from May of 2018. I’d gone on a walk and saw these geese flying toward me from some ways off. I had just enough time to fumble for my phone.

This one has an average percentage viewed rate of 96.8.

Ahh, our old friend, the Short Film of No Consequence series makes an appearance. This is from a candy store in Savannah. I shot, and edited this, in the store, in January 2016, and I hope all of those delicious treats found happy homes.

Viewers here have watched an average of 97.5 percent of the video this month.

In the summer of 2017 we visited Scotland. Ceannabeinne Beach, in Durness, is known as the beach of the burn of bereavement and death. The story goes that an elderly women fell and drowned in the burn here and her body was later washed down to the shore. There are ruins of a small fire here, but like all of the other locals, the tenants were forced out in 1842 for sheep farming. Just off the coast there’s a small island, Eilean Hoan, or the burial island. It once was prime grazing land and home to four families, until the Clearances. Now the island is a national nature reserve.

That beautiful scenery has earned a 99.1 percent video view.

Let’s goo to another beautiful part of Scotland. These are a few extra bits from an afternoon walking around Torridon.

I can brag about this one having a 99.7 percent viewed rate this month.

(You can see why on these. All of Scotland is stunning.)

This one feels like a cheat. It’s an eight-second clip. But it got a perfect 100 percent on the ol’ view-o-meter.

We’d just returned from a red-eye flight across two-thirds of the country. And I thought that would mean a nap. For most people it would mean a nap. For me, it meant going on a really hard bike ride. It was great.

Which brings us to this video, which I shot late last summer in Alabama.

It is presently enjoying 179.1 percent, meaning people are watching it almost twice.

Which means you have to watch it almost twice, to keep the numbers consistent.

The most viewed video this month? This 2017 flooding footage.

One other analytical note which, also doesn’t matter, but my site, for reasons that escape me, this month hit 4.6 million views.

Thanks for clicking the refresh button so often, everyone!


21
Apr 22

In the wind down

I had a delightful moment of id today. I’ve been wrestling with a website that wouldn’t let me log in. No email. No password. But I kept getting these messages which said they’d send the requisite information to my email, which they apparently don’t have. (Despite saying they did.) There was also a helpful phone number to call if all of this didn’t work. So, after a few days of this going on in-between other things, I called the number.

A very helpful person finally caught the other end of the line and, after she verified I wasn’t a dribbling idiot and I demonstrated my grasp of erudition and and reason, she set about helping solve the actual problem. This required reciting, several times, the requisite information. Finally, she was ready to create my account — he one that didn’t exist, but which the database was pretty sure it did somehow, maybe a nickname or something, perhaps. Before she could click the final click, she had to read me the terms of agreement.

She said that I could agree at any time. And she said that with the studied patience of a professional. There was a little emphasis on any time. It stood out. It wasn’t declarative. It didn’t sound like a complaint. But she wanted me to know I could agree at any time.

And dear internet, I did this for you. I have never, in my life, been more interested in the terms of agreement. In that moment, you would have felt the same way. So she read them all.

But at the end of it, I could finally log in.

I also had a moment of herculean achievement. Normally, I run my day on email and two or three calendars and some notepads and the crucial points from all of that get distilled into a notecard. Usually a day fills a card front and back. Some days I get to do other creative things with the back of the card, like observations or notes about some item from the front or tic-tac-toe. But the card seems to fill itself up nicely, thank you.

But today I managed, after several tries, to distill the next week onto two cards. A sign of the last stage of the semester. It was a beautiful sequential list, a slug, a time, date, location, day-of-the-week stuff. The only thing left to do was to remember what each slug meant, and what was required of me for each point. One week. Two cards.

It was immediately, immediately, made obsolete by the next email that floated in.

This is a class a colleague is offering in the fall. I am trying to reconcile the clever top line and Topic 1.

I think it is clever. And I know the professor running the course, and it should be a good one. But if it’s a class on social media manipulation someone should really lean into the notions contained in that graphic. Have some fun with it. Make the art such that, if you invert it, or flip it, there are secret messages to let students know you’re in on the joke.

Maybe there’s one in there already, and I just haven’t caught it yet. But I am looking. I’m looking every time I walk by the signage and this image is on the screen. I’m also counting the fonts.

We have an apple tree in the back yard. We discovered this just last year. First year since we’ve been here that it produced fruit. We looked forward to seeing them get ripe, but the squirrels had other ideas. They ate every single apple.

I haven’t found a countermeasure yet, but I’m sure I’ll find something on Google that will in no way be effective.

But at least the tree is blooming now. (In the final third of April, it surely ought to.)

I noticed that when we were sitting on the megadeck this evening. We stayed out there until the sun got too low and the temperatures fell and the fire element went out. I took that as a sign to go inside.


14
Apr 22

The ways we fill our days

I washed my car this evening, because winter is over — I hath proclaimed it, he proclaimed — and because there was still daylight left after my work day.

And by “I washed my car” I mean I took it to one of those middle-of-the-road drive through car wash companies and spent $11 to get dust and salt and grime off the car.

This one doesn’t have the dryer jets with the big wheel that descends onto the car as you drive out. Those always concerned me as a child. The wheel landed right there on the windshield, and then rolled over the car. Why is this not a problem for anyone else? Instead, this one has two vertically mounted dryers on either side of the exit. There’s a helpful clock in blue lights, telling you how long until these things stop blowing hot air which, as I type this, seems like a feature we should all be required to carry.

You try to time it just right, the whole of the car deserves the same amount of time in the drying phase. Except you’ve no real idea when the front of your car begins to really feel the warm air, so it’s just a guess. The experience will likely be uneven. And then you try to rationalize it. Why shouldn’t this part of the car get more drying time? Then you wonder if you’re somehow distributing the air flow unevenly, as you creep through the blow zone, because of driver bias, or a misperception of the precise size of the passenger compartment, or something. Finally, you’re thinking, I paid for it, you should use the whole of the 60 seconds. Don’t give any of the air back for free!

Anyway, my car is clean. And, for the moment, the exterior smells nice. I was going to vacuum the inside, but this place charges for that air, too, and I have vacuums I can use at home on some future nice day. And I will! I like a clean carpet.

When I got to the house a spontaneous bike ride occurred. Why not do 20 miles! It’s a lovely way to spend a few minutes.

I wasn’t intending to ride today, but riding is fun, plus it was a bonus after the 25-miler I had yesterday morning!

And these are the ways we fill our days.

Here are some sports shows that the IUSTV crew produced last night. All the local stuff from IU is in this highlight show.

And on the talk show they discussed the upcoming NFL draft.

By now, if you’ve been here every day over the last two weeks and change, you’ve seen 130 photos from our recent dive trip to Cozumel. (My next chore is building a proper photo gallery for them. Perhaps that’ll get done in the next day or so.) Maybe, perhaps, you missed the larger videos. I’ve got you covered. Day-by-day, the best footage from 13 dives on the beautiful reefs of the Caribbean Sea. Check these out.

This is our second day, when we got in five days. Four of them are represented here.

And this video was shot on a Thursday, not that the day of the week matters to the fish in the sea, or the turtle, which appears right at the beginning of this dive experience.

And everything you haven’t seen so far, you’ll see in this great video.

Now, about that photo gallery …


7
Apr 22

Another brand new show launched, and still more diving photos

Just your average day today. Started with a meeting. Ended with a different meeting. Some things took place in between, I’m sure. I learned something every step of the way. Now it’ll be up to me to make it useful. But that’s the way of things, right?

I got to the house in the daylight which — between my normal abnormal schedule and the still-recent emergence from daylight standard time — still seems unusual somehow. It rained. I rode my bicycle indoors. At the end of what should be a warmup period I was already feeling it. First time I’ve turned the pedals in two weeks. It’s like that with me, and I could do something about it, but I haven’t yet. Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll ride for a second day in a row. And next week I can start building back up to the mileage that was doing … just last month. Anyway, 20 more sweaty miles were behind me at the end of today’s pedalpalooza. Then it was time to shower, have dinner, and turn, mentally, toward tomorrow.

But first, let’s look back. These are the shows the IUSTV sports crew produced on Wednesday night. (Told ya, this schedule of mine. I really begin to feel it each April.)

This is Hoosier Sports Nite. And, a fun fact I learned after the fact: the guy on the desk, he did his tour here one year and one day ago. And now he’s anchoring sports shows.

(Getting involved early and throughout is a huge selling point for our programs.)

And here’s the talk show. They discussed Major League Baseball at some length. ‘Tis the season.

Some elements of the sports division are also working on this new project. It’s a soft launch new, national sports show, believed to be the first of its kind in, well, this country.

How cool is that? The proper launch is coming this fall.

Being a news nerd I likewise want a national program for that side of things, as well. Perhaps one of these days.

Let’s look farther back. About three weeks, now.

Look at this gorgeous condy anemone (Condylactis gigantea). They are loners, no colonies of these guys. And they are carnivores. Also, it’s generally considered more mobile than most anemones. It crawls around on its pedal disc, and tends to be quite territorial. I need to add witnessing an anemone turf war to my list of things to do. This species provides shelter to small fish and shrimp, and can be sort of like a car wash for fish cleaning activity.

Of course this stoplight parrotfish (Sparisoma viride) turned away just as I took its photo. This fish is a protogynous hermaphrodite and changes its sex from female to male during its lifespan. It will also change color as it changes sex and ages. The timing of the sex change can apparently vary depending on population density, growth, and mortality rates. Based on its coloring here, we can tell this is an older parrotfish.

I wonder what feature of the current, an untold number of years ago, made this little artistic sand draw possible.

Remember the movie, Cocoon?

I’m feeling younger every day. (Except for when I stand up. Or walk. Or generally try to do anything too quickly.)

Sometimes you have to look up, because sometimes there’s something swimming — no? Nothing? OK then.

There’s not a term, so far as I know, for this feeling of the color and the shadows, and the interplay of it all. I’m going to call it Caribbean gothic.

These next two are another example of that issue of taking more than one, and liking more than one.

I’m honestly not sure if the damsel fish scurrying about above and behind the coral even registered when I took these photos.

Our daily installment of the local yellow tube sponge and what I still think is the fused staghorn coral.

And here we are being silly at our safety stop on one of our ascents. (A safety stop is standard procedure. Basically, it is an opportunity for your body to release some of the excess nitrogen that builds up in your system during your dive.)

That’s three minutes of silliness, or three minutes of extra zen — or many more minutes of internal pouting about having to break the surface — every dive.


31
Mar 22

More fish, from the surface

There are four videos from this dive trip, too. You can see them all on my YouTube channel. Shorter clips are going on all the social media channels, as well. It’s a good way to remember being warm on these damp, overcast 45-degree days which somehow feel much, much colder.

Look at these sponges!

And here’s the beautiful French angelfish (Pomacanthus paru).

The bright yellow is a grunt (Haemulon flavolineatum) and that black fish with the yellow fins is the (Hypoplectrus chlorurus).

And have a look at this fantasy fish, which I’m pretty sure comes to us from another dimension. I assume that because I can’t readily name it. Yep, this is some sort of newly inter-dimensional angelfish. Perhaps you know the name?

Another beautiful yellowtail specimen.

Everyone knows the baraccuda. This was one of three or four we saw on this trip.

How about a lovely Smooth trunkfish (Lactophrys triqueter)?

And look at all of this colorful growth!

Sometimes it looks random and natural and chaotic like that. Hey, it’s natural. But, sometimes, it looks like a posed aquarium.

And that’s why we go to see them. Chaotic or just-right, it is all quite beautiful.

More tomorrow!