Welcome to the Future...50 Years Ago

World's Fairs used to be truly fantastic events and none were more notable than the 1962 event held in Seattle.  High speed "air cars," schools of the future with "electronic storehouses of knowledge," and climate controlled "farm factories" were all part of exhibits that emphasized we were about to enter a technology-filled world where our biggest concerns would be how to make the best use of all the leisure time we would have.  Fifty-five years later there are still a couple of iconic elements of the fair that people still associate with the city:  the space needle and the monorail.  

Built at a cost of $3.5 million, the trains provided an important link between the fairgrounds and downtown.  More than 8 million passengers rode the monorail during the six months of the fair providing the builders with a decent profit.  Still in operation today, the Monorail carries about two million passengers a year and continues to be one of the few fully self-sufficient public rail transit systems in the U.S.

What Do Porta Potties Do On Their Days Off?

They stand in line waiting for customers.

Shadow Play - Part 2

As you may have noticed, I have a fondness for shadows and light.  My favorite times are early and late in the day when the sun is close to the horizon creating elongated and often whimsical shadows like these, which I found on an early morning walk in Carmel, Indiana.  

The Joy of Wandering

Over the past year, Monica and I have made a few changes to the way we travel with the biggest difference being slowing things down so we have more free time at our disposal.  Sometimes that means we take a day off to just hang out and read or it might result in taking an unstructured trip through the area where we're staying.  That's how this image came to be.

I was exploring a bit of countryside in central Georgia when I passed through a small settlement and spotted this composition.  Once again, the light was pretty harsh, but it produced sharp shadows under the clapboards creating strong horizontal lines that clash nicely with the vertical stripes of the old awning.  I also like how the greens in the door and awning are found in the frame and Coke bottle on the sign.  For me, this is an image that needs to be in color.

All made possible by just wandering and going slowly enough to take in all the surroundings had to offer.

Shadow Play

I had just finished photographing some architectural details on an old church in Georgia and this image appeared to me while I was walking back to my car.  My practice is to keep my camera "On" until I'm back in the car, which serves as a reminder to keep looking for other things of visual interest.  Doing so allowed me to catch a glimpse of this out of the corner of my eye.  The vertical lines are shadows from the fence protecting the stairwell and the high contrast of the shadows and handrail against the stucco wall made it a great subject for black and white.   

Adults & Children

A few years back I was in Seattle for a conference and decided to visit Pike Place Market to take in it's unique atmosphere and see the Gum Wall, which covers a 15' x 50' section of the alley side of the Market Theater.  Started in 1993, the Gum Wall officially became a tourist attraction in 1999.  Some people have made small works of art out of the gum while others have placed coins in the sticky, sweet blobs.  In late 2015 the Pike Place Market Preservation & Development Authority did a total scrub down of the wall to prevent the sugar from further eroding the bricks and mortar.  It took 130 hours to complete and the displaced gum weighed in excess of 2,350 pounds.  Almost immediately, gum was re-added to the wall.

After making a few images, I stayed around to watch the responses of other visitors to this sticky shrine.  A group of three mothers and six kids entered through a side stairwell.  The kids appeared to be between 8 and 14 and their first glance at the mass of gum resulted in a collective, "COOL!"  The moms' response was a synchronized, "Don't touch anything!"

The Importance of Encouragement

The very first photo workshop I took after switching from film to digital was held in Nashville and was led by Tony Corbell, a very talented photographic artist and one of the most knowledgeable lighting people around.  There were a number of gifted photographers in our group and I felt a bit intimidated by the images I had seen them produce.  One of the days our assignment was to photograph parts of downtown Nashville.  As we rolled out of the bus, most of the group headed off in one direction, but I stopped to survey my surroundings and saw this garage wall a couple of blocks off the opposite way.  The image immediately resonated with me and I jogged up the street to get there first.  It only took an instant to get this composition and I expected to hear the sounds of other shutters going off behind me, but when I turned around I was alone.  Later that evening when we were showing our best images from the day, Tony said, "I saw this when we got off the bus and was going to make an image of it, but I saw you hightailing it in that direction and didn't want to steal your shot.  Nice work."

I doubt that Tony knew how much his encouragement meant to me, but it played a huge role in my continued development.  The small act of kindness in letting me have the subject to myself was in keeping with his professionalism through the entire workshop.  His love of photography was contagious and he continued to generously share his knowledge the entire time we were in the workshop.  I learned a number of helpful technical things from Tony, but my biggest takeaway from the workshop was the value of being an encourager.

Shadow Play - Part 3

When our children were very young, and we would make the inevitably poor decision to go out for a meal at a restaurant that did not have a playground inside, one of us would get to the table early to confiscate all the place settings except those where adults would be sitting.  This preemptive parental strike was designed to create a better dining experience for the unfortunate souls who were seated within shouting distance of our table.  Based on previous disasters (most meals), removing utensils and paper items would minimize the chance that napkins and placemats would get shredded, creatively torn to create tribal fertility masks, or converted into stylish headwear.  If there were diners who were disappointed they didn't get to hear dueling fork and spoon percussion solos coming from our table, none complained to me.  I'm sure there were a few parents who felt cheated that the mom and dad at our table wouldn't play the pick up the utensil game with the kids.  Since our boys would morph without warning into ninja warriors with terrible aim, we viewed all silverware as potentially lethal.  

Any place that allowed us to return had a directive to seat us near the kitchen...and we were more than OK with that.  I'm pretty sure that some people who passed by our table thought the barbarians had arrived.  When a concerned gentleman stopped by our table one evening he directed a comment toward our then ten year old.  "Isn't he a bit old to be eating with his hands?", he queried.  Before my wife could respond, I shot back, "I suggest you keep your distance, sir.  Otherwise he might puncture your lung with that chicken leg he's finishing."  That was enough to get him going back to his table.  

Flash forward twenty years and the kids are living on their own.  My wife and I go to nicer restaurants with some regularity.  The staff at these places are genuinely glad to see us and urge us to return soon.  We enjoy the occasional adult beverage and the quiet conversation that ensues.  It is a joyful experience.  Yesterday was one of those days.  We had a wonderful day together and decided to have dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Cap's On The Water, in Vilano Beach.  Seated on the covered porch on a perfect evening, we were enjoying our drinks while watching the sun slip behind the trees.  Things couldn't have been better.  Then the sun glinting off my fork caught my eye and I looked down to see this very interesting shadow.   Before I know it, I'm moving the fork around to see what kinds of shapes I can create on the cedar tabletop and out comes the camera phone.  I'm totally absorbed in my artistic reverie until Monica says, "Do I need to take that fork from you?"

Even now, it's sometimes tough to be an adult.  

The Impenetrable Woods

South of Ponte Vedra, Florida the eastern edge of the Guana Nature Preserve is often made up of stands of trees with thin, twisted trunks, and elongated limbs that are rarely straight for more than one foot at a time.  Even when the leaves are absent, the multitude of branches at the top of the tree are so thick they block most of the light.  The Brothers Grimm would feel right at home here.  Even on a marked trail, I would not have been surprised to see a witch or a gnome.   It's one of those places where you would be tempted to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, but wouldn't for fear that something would consider the morsels an appetizer and go looking for the main course.  I found it to be scarier than any of the "fright houses" that show up this time of the year.

 

No Rain, No Fame

What is the difference between a redneck on the verge of committing a dangerously stupid stunt and a television reporter during a hurricane?

The reporter will be wearing a rain jacket that prominently displays the network or station logo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Great Inventions Overlooked by the Nobel Prize Committee

Conspicuously missing from this year's list of Nobel Prize winners is the name of Dr. Conrad Binky VII, a noted biologist, inventor, and holder of the patent for the Binky Elm (ulmus binky).  The last four generations of the Binky family have dedicated themselves to the development of less expensive and more effective means of keeping infants content.  Known for their innovative use of new materials, colors, designs, Binky, Inc. holds a 57% share of the worldwide pacifier market.  They are the leading producer of adult pacifiers and the only such product endorsed by PIP (Practioners of Paraphilic Infantilism), whose members display behaviors that involve role-playing a regression to an infant-like state.

Interviewed at the corporate headquarters in a suburb of Citra, Florida, Dr. Binky described the rationale and process behind the creation of the Binky Elm.  "Some years back, my great-grandfather, Conrad Binky IV had the idea to put a Binky in every baby's mouth, no matter where they were in the world.  Over the next two generations, my grandfather and father worked tirelessly to bring that idea to fruition.  Knowing that many people do not have access to stores and live in challenging climates, we had a lot of seemingly insurmountable obstacles to overcome.  Fortunately, with a name like Binky, we're used to dealing with disadvantages.  It was my uncle, Dr. Luther Burbank Binky, who is a botanist, that came up with the concept of growing our product on trees, so he gets a lot of credit for the Binky Elm," stated Binky. 

"For the past 32 years Luther and I have worked tirelessly in the lab along with the rest of the creative minds at Binky, Inc. to develop a tree that could flourish in all climates...hot, cold, dry, wet...and bear pacifiers as a fruit and this year we achieved that goal with the Binky Elm.  Regardless of the weather, our tree grows 8 feet a year to a maximum height of 40 feet and with a minimum output of 230 pacifiers during each of its three growing seasons.   It's anticipated that seeds from our trees will be carried by birds and deposited in places that have been barren for centuries.  With a resistance to all known arboreal diseases, it's easy to imagine the planet covered with Binky Elm trees.  Think of it as a benevolent version of kudzu.  We'll be providing shade for everyone and contentment to babies everywhere.  I know great-grandfather is looking down on us and smiling.  He might even have one of our adult pacifiers in his mouth," Binky concluded.

The Harbinger

The first 45 years of my life were spent in the Midwest and most of that in southwest Indiana where you were keenly aware of the changing seasons.  My favorite times were Spring and Fall.  Spring for the blooms and new life putting life where brown and gray had been in the preceding months.  I liked Fall for the crispness in the air, the earthy smells that were so different from those of Spring, and for the richness of the colors.  While promise always accompanied Spring, for me there was a touch of sadness and uncertainty to Autumn.  You knew Winter was coming and were not sure of what that would bring.

The signs of approaching Winter were there for anyone to see: bright red sumac, orange yellow maple leaves, spider webs sagging from the weight of heavy dew, but I found it easy to slip into denial because of their beauty.  More than jack-o-lanterns, Indian corn was the one reminder for me that cold weather was here to stay.  

We returned to Indiana and spent the past weekend in the scenic hills of Brown County.  While it was a bit before peak, there was still some nice color.  The owners of the B&B where we stayed had done an exceptional job of decorating the property with scarecrows, straw bales, and corn stalks.  Ears of Indian corn in a dazzling array of hues were hung near the doors and along the handrails next to the steps.  

I spent quite a bit of time admiring their beauty and spoke to them before leaving.  "It would be easy to be taken in by your beauty and stay here longer, but I know who you are.  You are the harbinger of Winter and I plan to be back in Florida before that old man arrives here."

Attention Entrepreneurs!

I believe in giving back to the communities that I occupy whether that is in my neighborhood or cyberspace, so here I go.  If I had paid more attention in chemistry, both in high school and college, I would be running with this multi-million dollar idea on my own, but my mind was better suited for remembering trivia from popular culture instead of formulas.  

During one of my morning walks I came across this tired sign and it got me to thinking.  If exposure to the sun is hard on our skin, just think about road signs who are in a state of constant exposure to all elements. Eventually they end up like this specimen and have to be replaced and that costs $$$ in materials and labor.  Just think of how many road signs there are in the U.S. alone and how many are replaced each day.  Did your "HUGE OPPORTUNITY" light just start flashing?  I thought so.

All you have to do is develop a weather resistant, fade-proof coating for the finish on the signs, patent it, get backing from one the multi-millionaires on Shark Tank, and watch the armored trucks line up to make deposits at your bank.  I've even got the perfect name for the product "Signscreen"...like sunscreen for signs.  So, why are you still sitting there?  I've come up with the idea and a catchy name.  The hard work has been done.  

More Great Moments in Advertising

Sometimes it's not easy to determine if an individual selected the name for their business or had assistance from an agency, but there are other times when you can rest assured no professionals were involved.  

Cultivating Relationships

One morning while Monica and I were walking on the beach we came across this couple stretching before their morning jog.  I walked a bit past them then returned to create this image with my phone camera.  Under most conditions this would get deleted.  It was hastily composed.  The light is harsh and you can’t clearly see the faces of either subject.  Still, it serves my purpose as I think it is a great visual metaphor for how most relationships unfold.

Progress comes easier when there is agreement between people.  When we find ourselves opposing someone else, we spend a lot of time and energy trying to get our way and can be consumed with being right.  This frequently occurs even after one of the parties concludes they are on the wrong side of the issue.  Determined to get something out of their investment in the argument, they dig in and hope the other side will eventually give in.

I attended a workshop many years ago where the facilitator spent some time discussing the seductiveness of being “right.”  He explained that we all want to be right…all of the time.  Being right is the best.  He drew more than a few laughs from the group when he said being right was better than really good sex.  For me, his final comments were the funniest and certainly rang true.  He said, “For those of you who are thinking that you don’t want to be or need to be right all the time…you’re right about that.”

The knowledge from that workshop stuck with me and I find I will consistently get a better outcome in my interactions with others when it gets applied. 

Calling all Scatology Majors

My travels have taken me many places and I've come across a lot of different signs commanding people to clean up after their pets.  Among all those postings, this one is unique.  Directed toward the well-educated pet owner, it is an updated version of the directive, "Assemble your fecal material into a linear mode." Though some could argue that "ANIMAL" is redundant, since only animals produce excrement in amounts that need removal, I appreciate the specificity.  Mostly, I'm glad my name isn't "HANDLER."

Philosophy 101

I spotted this in an empty parking lot in the San Marco district of Jacksonville.  Evidently I was supposed to be there and everyone else in town needed to be somewhere else.  Though I haven't been to all areas of the city, I'm reasonably sure there are no other signs like this in the whole county.  So, here's my question: Since this sign confirms I am exactly where I need to be, and there are no other signs in town like this, how does everyone else know they are exactly where they need to be?

It's this kind of question that caused me to switch my major to Elementary Education and eventually spend most of my career working in the coal industry.

A Brief History of Fashion

I’ve never been a slave to fashion, but there have been a few periods of indentured servitude.  My first foray in being on the cutting edge of style happened while in high school during the mid-sixties when I decided it was time to bring a bit of the mod wardrobe to my small hometown in southwestern Indiana.  The nice fellow at the department store in Vincennes assured me that the hip hugger pinstripe bellbottom slacks with an extra wide belt and a shirt with a long pointed collar would get me noticed.  Truer words were never spoken.  Everyone at the bowling alley noticed and most felt compelled to express their opinion.  I had no idea there were so many fashion critics in such a small town.  The pants were banished to the back of my closet and the shirt was restricted to being worn under a sweater.  Battered, but not beaten, I later purchased a flowered shirt with a white collar.  By then a few other guys had been influenced by the British invasion and the new shirt got a few compliments. 

While at Indiana University my personal style was eclectic and largely driven by my mood.  It was a time of “do your own thing” and my thing covered the territory from preppy frat boy to faux hippie.  Some days it was a pressed oxford shirt, nice sweater, wool pants, and shined shoes, while other days it was a peasant shirt, puka shell necklace, bellbottom jeans with a button fly and water buffalo sandals.  I worked at a pizza place and my favorite delivery outfit was modeled after Michael Parks character on Then Came Bronson; a stocking cap, dark shirt, and jeans or corduroys.  I graduated college never owning a Nehru jacket or a giant sunburst emblem on a chain. 

Though I managed to get through the seventies without buying a leisure suit, I must confess there was quite a bit of polyester in my closet.  I also made a couple of fashion missteps when I bought a pair of platform shoes, some baggy pants, and a winter coat that might have been pilfered from Sergeant Shultz’s wardrobe on Hogan’s Heroes.  I had my share of multicolor sweater vests, turtlenecks, plaid pants, and even a bush jacket, but managed to avoid jumpsuits, all clothes influenced by the movie Superfly, and anything that looked like it might have been pilfered from Elton John’s closet.

During the eighties I was focused on my career and starting a family, so fashion took a back seat for a while.  I did have a few tracksuits, but didn’t wear a headband unless I was playing tennis or basketball.  Never got into the shapeless men’s suits, though I did have a couple of Miami Vice inspired shirts that I wore under my sport coats.  My boldest fashion statements focused on hair.  I got a perm and grew an awesome Fu Manchu mustache.  Any evidence that I wore either has been lost to history except for the one photograph I keep in a safe deposit box.

I was moving up in the corporate world and being a dad in the 90’s, which resulted in two different styles:  suits and casual clothes to chase the kids.  Getting dressed up was fun for me and I liked the Gordon Gekko look from Wall Street.  All my suits had buttons in the waistband for suspenders, I had loads of ties, and the laundry service and dry cleaners loved me.  Medium starch on the shirts and a sharp crease on the pants, please.  Once I got home, it was get into the comfy clothes to play with the boys.

A few years before the turn of the century, I took what was to be my last corporate assignment.  The work atmosphere was casual and being near Birmingham, Alabama folks dressed practically to deal with the heat and humidity.  I still enjoyed looking good, but my focus turned to soft clothes and comfortable shoes.  Classic styles and patterns made up the bulk of my wardrobe.  I became more brand loyal and purchased higher end items that would last longer.  Turning 50 had a big influence on my practicality and the kids getting older had a bigger negative influence on our bank account.

Getting in to my sixties has created more than a few changes in my wardrobe.  The slowing of my metabolism created a condition that required a larger waist on all my pants.  To avoid resembling a five-pound sausage in a casing designed for three pounds, I moved up to a Large for all my shirts.  I have a nice selection of suits, sport coats, dress shirts, and ties that may get worn ten times a year.  Since moving to Florida in late 2014 I now have nearly as many pairs of shorts as I do long pants.  In the last few months I have purchased several items that were new for me:  sandals and shirts designed to be worn untucked.  I see more of those in my future.

This brings me to the image at the top of this story.  I have never desired to wear my clothing in this manner.  Out of curiosity, I tried it at home and found it to be both uncomfortable and quite limiting in movement.  Sagging has been around for a number of years and, apparently, still has a number of devotees like this gentleman I saw at a gas station.  Though I am deeply grateful that he is wearing briefs and they appear to be clean,  I want to see less of this in my future!

The Value of Adjusting Expectations

Walking has become therapeutic for me.  Outside of the obvious physical benefits, there are a number of spiritual and psychological advantages.  I usually walk early in the morning and the quiet lets me hear all nature has to offer.  The light, low on the horizon, creates wonderful long shadows and everything is bathed in a yellow hue.  It’s a great time to be with my Creator, have a conversation, clear my head, and prepare for the day.  Except for the occasional passing car, the only sounds are the birds and my shoes against the sidewalk.  Greetings from other walkers and runners are always welcomed and acknowledged.

This week we’ve been staying with a friend in Carmel, Indiana just north of Indianapolis.   Betsy lives close to the Monon Trail, an 18-mile stretch of what used to be the Monon Railroad that has been converted to a paved trail running from just north of downtown Indianapolis to the suburb of Westfield.  It is an absolute gem of a project and a popular place for walkers, joggers, runners, rollerbladers, and bicyclists.  There have been a number of access points and offshoot trails added over the past few years making it even better. 

I’ve been walking the trail every morning.  My route has a lot of shade and I’ve encountered a minimum number of folks along the path.  It was like a nice drive on an Indiana country road…until today.  Today was like being on the interstate in Atlanta at rush hour.  My first clue was the guy hurtling toward me on one of those fat tired beach bikes, which sounded similar to a jacked-up four wheel drive with knobby tires.  In quick succession there were some serious high school runners who appeared to be training for an event, more cyclists traveling at higher speeds than I had encountered in the previous 5 days, bunches of people with dogs, and a boatload of families with small children being transported in a variety of contrivances.   Even though pedestrians have the right-of-way that was a small comfort when bikes whizzed by and clusters of runners brushed my shoulder as I hugged the edge of the pavement.

Rather than let the crowd steal my joy of being outside on a beautiful, cool morning, I decided to focus on observing the different styles used by the runners I encountered.  The first one I will call “T-Rex.”  This refers not to the size of the runner but how hard they bring their foot down on the path.  These folks sound like Shaquille O’Neal running with two empty 50-gallon drums strapped to his feet.  Even if you don’t feel the vibrations they create, you can hear them long before they reach you.  I refer to the next running style as “The Swimmer.”  Swimmers use their arms a lot and it looks like they’re pulling themselves through the atmosphere.  The ones I saw tended to take big gulps of air much like someone doing the breaststroke.  The “Prototype” is the third running style I noticed.  Like many mechanical prototypes, these runners have a number of good things going for them, but they’re not finished products.  They kick too high, their stride is too short or too long, or they’re positioning themselves incorrectly.  The potential is there, but they need coaching to bring out their effectiveness.  Then there’s “The Machine.”  Machines are all about smoothness, economy of motion, and effectiveness.  They appear to be gliding much of the time and you might not hear them coming until they are right behind you.  The highlight of the morning was watching a cluster of machines (a girls cross country team) approach from the opposite direction.  Led by their coach and clipping along at a good pace, they were a study in synchrony. 

My hopes for a quiet walk were dashed almost immediately after getting on the trail, but changing focus made for a purposeful morning and provided the opportunity to be outside in some truly outstanding weather.  If you’re ever in the Indianapolis area, I highly recommend checking out the Monon Trail.  If you go on Saturdays, you might want to get there early to avoid the crowds.

 

Signs - Part 12

It is no surprise to those of you who have been following this blog that I tend to view the world through a somewhat warped lens (photography pun intended).  I often wonder if the people who create certain ad campaigns and signage have similarly skewed views and find ways to incorporate that into their work hoping that passersby will appreciate their cleverness.  Of course, I also understand that a lot of the signs that make me chuckle were never intended to be funny by their creators.  This one rates fairly high on my unintentional comedy scale.

I often create pictures as I read and my initial image was a national convention of highly interested little people excitedly discussing topics about which they are passionate. The second thing I thought of was this group's legal counsel sending a letter to the producers of all the tiny house programs telling them to cease and desist using the term since N.A.M.E. actually produced much tinier homes and owned the trademark.

The offices were closed when I walked by, which was disappointing.  I've always wanted to visit an organization that urged its employees to "think small."