Are You Ready to RUMMMMBLLLLLLLE?

Welcome to our 20th season with the Chargers! The team I love because they wear my initials... and because the coaching staff is great, and they let me be on the sidelines instead of far away in the stands! My excitement for the first game is like a kid on Christmas Eve. It's here -- let's get started!

Thanks to the wonders of modern computing (I guess), the printed score books I'd used have become obsolete. A few years ago, I designed my own, drawing it on graph paper and getting it printed each season. This year, it seemed like time for a change, so I have been working on an Excel template instead. I still want to fill it out by hand -- if I entered the data directly onto my laptop, I'd be stuck way up in the stands. Where's the fun in that?

So, I printed a few sheets of the new form and looked for a recorded game to use for a test. The first one I found was an AFC Divisional Playoff between the Bills and the Browns. This was in 1989, recorded from television and posted on YouTube. No computerized markers to show line of scrimmage or first down, fewer replays, sideline camera angles -- a pretty good simulation of real life for tonight's high school game. I had forgotten Bernie Kosar's sideways stance under center. The commentators recounted Ron Middleton's highs and lows as his son was born 12 weeks premature and Ron was released and rehired a couple of times that year. I remembered a few names -- Jim Kelly, Pete Metzelaars, Thurman Thomas, Cornelius Bennett, Ozzie Newsome. In a promo for the next day's game, baby-faced Bob Costas and OJ Simpson were pictured. My, how the times change.

Ahhh... good nostalgia. But now I must make a few last adjustments to the score sheets and get them printed again. Sharpen the pencils, dig out the clipboard, it's time for FOOTBALL!

Oh, and if you'd like to share my little trip down memory lane, here's the link to that video. Enjoy!

Sights Seen in Seattle

Half the fun of photography is finding new ways to look at stuff. Here are some different views of Seattle. Enjoy!

This tower seems a little off-kilter... but the next one is supposed to be that way? Go figure. Not sure my dad the carpenter would have appreciated the effect.

I guess wooden dragons aren't too scary.

Today's Encounters-From-Afar

Sitting on my deck this morning, I heard a dull tapping up in the tree. It was our birch vandal -- a red breasted sapsucker, adding more bird graffiti to the trunk!

Went for a nature walk later (I covered two miles in about two hours) and came across various interestings --

Eek! This looks like a bald-faced hornet! Thankful for a telephoto lens!

I'm allergic to yellowjacket stings, but such an amazing insect!

Loved being able to get this view of the lake --

Just for fun, I zoomed in on the cattle resting across the lake. It wasn't until I edited photos tonight and super-magnified them that I noticed this fellow's horns! Glad I was far away.

Can I Just Say That God Ate My Homework?

This week's assignment... shooting a single subject with varied focal lengths. It took me a couple of days, but I figured out what props I wanted to use and how I might set the scene. Here it is, up close and personal, without background or variances:

The sun was very close to dropping below the horizon, so I hurried off several shots with the wrong shutter speeds, incorrect apertures, and no sun filter. Meh and bleh. Good ideas, but bad light. But then, this began to happen:

Are those sky jellies?

Meanwhile, off to the east...

Add moon...

and eight tiny reindeer...

And there you have it -- my excuse for not finishing my photography homework tonight.   

                   

Thy lovingkindness, O Lord, extends to the heavens,

They faithfulness reaches to the skies.

Well... so maybe I shouldn't use God as my excuse... but still... He did this... and it was amazing!

Back to Basics -- the Dog's View

When I created this blog, oh, so many years ago, it was an assignment for a class. The specific purpose was to record my progress through the course, demonstrating various internet tools and such. This summer, I'm back in school, taking a short adult-education photography class. And I need help. The first "lecture" was on the use of aperture as it relates to depth of field. As you have noticed, I like to play with depth of field. A lot. But I've only done so by using a telephoto lens and manual focus. This aperture thing is... well, it's actually physics and higher math and stuff about which I am clueless.

Enter Polo.

If he can explain aperture, to give me a memorable word picture, I'm golden. (Of course, he's more of a Golden than I will ever be, thanks to his canine heritage. But I digress.) Take it away, Polo!

In back yard, I focus on Squirrel. No concern about what is behind, around Squirrel. Squirrel, my mortal enemy, my wide-eyed concentration. I have big, big eyes for Squirrel. Background no matter, let it blur so that Squirrel is only subject.

But if Crow lands on fence, I must narrow eyes to watch Crow and Squirrel. Crow my mortal-est mortal enemy. I might someday catch Squirrel; but Crow flies, sneaks up, does mean things. I make eyes small to watch near Squirrel and farther Crow. My expression with small eyes is inscrutable. Do not let Crow see my thinking.

Okay, so that one word -- inscrutable -- gives me a strong mental image. When Polo has more than one subject to watch, he squints. Sure, in his case, it's a psychological game, but the practical application is that making the aperture smaller will increase the depth of field so that he can focus on both the near and far critters of malice. 

f/5.6 (largest available aperture)

f/36 (smallest available aperture)

marshmallows at f/5.6

marshmallow visual pun at f/36


Must be inscrutable, watch both Mortal Enemies at same time. And take nap.

Flowers of the Field... er, from my friends' garden

I've got a bad cold that's interfering with word processing, but here are recent photos that make up for several thousand words. Thankful for a camera to capture these beauties while they're here.


As for man, his days are like grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
When the wind has passed over it, it is no more; and its place acknowledges it no longer.
But the lovingkindness of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who revere Him, and His righteousness to children's children.

Details, Details -- Who's Minding the Net?

I don't know much about football. However, for more than 25 years I've walked the sidelines of three high school varsity teams, doing their scorebooks. From that vantage point, I couldn't tell you if the guards were pulling or what kind of defensive coverage is being used. But I see things, and I hear things.

One of the long-time volunteers with my current team is responsible for all the equipment. Coach D oversees, in a most obsessive manner, everything from game balls to helmet straps to the coaches' audio gear. He's loud, intense, and sometimes obnoxious about it. But he's been there almost as long as me, so I guess he's glad to be there.

My hometown pro team [GO, HAWKS!] played an okay game this week, but I didn't get to view the absolutely spectacular end of this game until several days later. I watched the NFL.com play-by-play synopsis online while I was at work on Sunday and felt a little of the drama of that amazing comeback and win. [WE'RE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL!!!] Even though I knew the outcome, I was amazed to see those final minutes unfold. Wow! Just, WOW!

As I watched the incredible plays by the Seahawks, and the mounting failures by the Packers, I noticed one striking detail. During Green Bay's final offensive drive at the end of the fourth quarter, the camera cut to their kicker, Mason Crosby, doing a few practice kicks on the sideline. The Packers were aiming for a touchdown, and they were moving the ball down the field pretty effectively, but Crosby knew he had to be ready just in case.

One thing about his preparations bothered me, though. The net into which he was kicking was half off of its frame. Twice in the highlight video, he tried to reattach it, to no avail.

Here's the net, hanging lopsidedly while he kicks into it...

And trying to tuck it back where it belongs again...

Crosby made his field goal, tying the game near the end of regulation. Great save! But... why was no one there to fix the practice net for him? Why wasn't there a Coach D running over to grumble and straighten things out? How can it be that no one -- apparently -- was standing by the kicker, the guy who could save the team from losing the NFC Championship? Where's the support?

The following passage says it well:

For even as the body is one and yet has many members, and all the members of the body, thought they are many, are one body, so also is Christ. For the body is not one member, but many.

If the physical body is the team, you know that all members of the team are important. Every player, every coach, every equipment manager plays a role that may prove vital to the outcome of the game. In spiritual terms, the body is the Church, the local or universal network of people who follow Christ. Each person has a role, a talent, a style, that contributes something unique to the whole. Some are visible, some are vocal, others are supportive background folks who see a need and quietly fill it. And some are obsessive, loud, and intense, but they still provide necessary aid. They're the ones who might notice a problem with the net, and step in to set it right.

Green Bay could use their own Coach D, but they're going to have to look elsewhere. Our Coach D is just fine right here, wearing our green and gold. [Go Chargers!]

A Look Around the Plate from a Non-Baseballer

The Mariners beat the Blue Jays this week. I was there. No one would call me a baseball fan, but the live experience is interesting. Here are some highlights of the game:

Some pitches are a bit too high. (It has to be really obvious for me to see this.)

And some are too low. (I think.)

Batters don't like the pitches to come too close.

When bat connects, the ball doesn't always go the right direction. But sometimes it does.

That pretty much covers all the offensive action. If you're still interested, maybe I'll post pictures of my inattentiveness -- that is, the rest of the stuff that happened. 

Oh -- but one more batting photo. This one illustrates a pitch that was right over the bun. Just right.

Is There Such a Thing as "Codependent Anti-Humility"?

What's the opposite of humility? And by humility, I mean the good, genuine variety.

Humility means not thinking too highly of oneself, or not thinking too much of oneself.

Anti-humility can be typified by super-inflated ego, a person who thinks every good thing is attributable to them. It's easy to think of examples of this person, right?

What about a person who thinks every little bad thing (burnt toast, being late for an appointment, forgetting to buy milk on the way home from work) is his/her fault? In a way, this is also thinking "too much" or -- more precisely -- too often of oneself.

The person who thinks the world owes him continual thanks for his wonderfulness is deceived. But so is the one who lives in a perpetual state of apology. The toast was burnt? Maybe the old toaster is losing its timing. Late for an appointment? Maybe an accident tied up traffic. Forgot the milk? After a long day at work, it's no surprise that the only thing on your mind is getting HOME.

Humility, in light of emotional well-being, is a balance between the extremes of over-inflation and painful deflation. It's being okay with things as they are. Being okay with me, as I am.

"Honey, I found the problem with the dryer..." (Part Two)

"The dryer won't work."

Uh, oh. Golly, I just did my nails, and they're looking good. Now, I'll have to risk chipping them as I take the dryer apart to see what needs fixing. Horrors!

A few years ago, something happened that was eerily similar... here is a link to that post. That time, it took a while to find the source of the problem -- and what a creepy surprise!

If you only judged the obvious common denominators in these posts, you might think that I should never do my nails again. Nail polish leads to dryer malfunction, right? Nah. It's been five years between troubles, and I've had pretty nails many times in between. 

I think it's time to look for a new color. After all, what could go wrong?