At Last! A Gripe

Before I bought my Canon A70, I did thorough research. I chose this particular model because it has received excellent professional reviews, as well as excellent user reviews, more of each than any other other camera in its price range. In fact, shortly after I bought it, the A70 was ranked the best digital camera under $500 by PC World magazine. I did see a few negative reviews, citing quality and customer service issues, but these were buried in an avalanche of oh-my-god-I-love-this-camera-so-much-I-may-explode! reviews.

I've been very happy with the camera until now. It's easy to use and takes good pictures; batteries last a long time, and manual controls give me room to grow as a photographer. I hope the customer service complaints turn out to be overblown. Rest assured, I'll let you know — and of course I'll be sure to let them know that I'll be letting you know.

Otherwise, today was pretty cool. My Friend is still here, so we drove up to Grandfather Mountain and did a bit of hiking in the snow. We hiked the Profile Trail up to "Profile View," the designated spot from which to check out the rock formation which gives the mountain its name. We had a great time, the dogs had a great time....

Maybe I'll have some photos to show you — as soon as my Friend gets her film developed.

Posted by Me at 22:25 link

Heck Is For The Darned

I have mixed emotions about profanity.

A respected uncle told me when I was young that people who use a lot of profanity lack not only tact but also imagination. That's always made sense to me, and I've always tried to find ways to say what I want to say without swearing.

Then, a couple of years ago, I heard Terry Gross interview a linguist on NPR's Fresh Air; according to the linguist, the main reason we use profanity — and use particular profanities — is to identify ourselves as members of a group, especially to the other members of the group. This didn't seem as obvious as my uncle's thoughts on the matter, but after thinking about it awhile, and observing, I can see the truth in it.

Using profanities, especially in place of euphemisms, may indicate to some that the speaker has nerve enough not to shy away from calling things by their "real" names, or that the speaker isn't afraid to offend the squeamish.

Maybe it's best to be versatile enough to know when to use profanity and when not to. Choose wisely: whatever you do, your choice of language will identify the quality of your character immediately.

Posted by Me at 21:41 link

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanks, Ian, for commenting that she at least deserves capitalization! That couldn't be more true. When I started the blog, she asked that I never publish her name or face. Since then, I've tried to find a graceful way to talk about her; so far, I haven't found one.

But when we sit down for the traditional feast tomorrow with my mom, and we list what we're most grateful for, "meeting [her]" will be at the top of my list.

Posted by Me at 23:52 link

Good Day in the Woods

I've been well-acquainted with the Woods all my life, but every time I'd gone before today had been guided, either with the Boy Scouts (way back when), or at a family reunion, or on an organized tour. Today, Mom, my NYC friend and I got permission to ramble around on our own. It was beautiful, even if the network of roads was a little smaller than I'd remembered. I'd really like to see a good map of the place; I get the impression there was much we didn't see. I guess that's what "next time" is for.

Tomorrow, I think we'll bike over in Winston-Salem, or maybe up in Virginia. Having no schedule to lead us around is like the feeling after taking off a heavy pack: delicious!

Music in my head:

• The Beatles — "Revolution"
• Jerry Lee Lewis — "Great Balls of Fire"
• The Champs — "Tequila"
• Harry Belafonte — "Banana Boat (Day-O)"
• Louis Prima — "Jump Jive 'n' Wail"

The Good Life

Also, I'll visit Chapel Hill tomorrow, always a fine thing to do. My friend is here, and I've gotten both of our bikes working properly, so maybe we'll ride around Duke Forest, or just ramble around the campus.

I'm feeling good, and thankful. I read this advice today, and thought it was worth passing along:

The problem isn't materialism as such. Rather it is the underlying assumption that full satisfaction can arise from gratifying the senses alone. Unlike animals whose quest for happiness is restricted to survival and to the immediate gratification of sensory desires, we human beings have the capacity to experience happiness at a deeper level which, when achieved, can overwhelm unhappy experiences.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama
From "The Pocket Dalai Lama," edited by Mary Craig, 2002. Shambhala Publications, Boston, www.shambhala.com.

P.S. Sya wrote a novel for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) project. I've read only the first two chapters so far, but those are really good! Check it out.

Posted by Me at 23:21 link

Why, you little—

So I walked toward the sound. I looked out the kitchen window to see three boys, ages ranging from about 9 to 13, playing in the yard behind mine. They were looking at my house. The smallest one picked up something and threw it at my house. It hit with the same thud I'd just heard. It appeared to be a piece of a smashed pumpkin. They all laughed.

I'm not good with kids. I'm not really bad with kids, I just don't have a lot of practice. I wasn't really sure what to do, but I decided I needed to address the situation.

So I walked out the back door, and the kids ran. They didn' t run far — two were hiding behind a bush and the little one was standing a few yards behind them in the driveway. These were lousy "hiding places," as I could see them perfectly well, while they didn't seem to be able to see me walk up. One of the two bigger ones said to the other as I walked around the bush, "He's probably going to shoot us with a BB gun or something."

I came around the bush and said, "No, I'm not going to shoot anyone, but I am going to tell your folks what you've been up to."

The oldest one, a pudgy, red-faced kid, stood up, pointed at the little one and said "We didn't do it! HE did it!"

I said, "It doesn't make any difference which one of you did it." I looked at him and felt my words sinking in. Then I walked over to the little one and asked him, "What was wrong with what you did?"

He met my eyes for a second, but quickly looked away. He didn't answer.

"C'mon. It's an easy question."

He paused a couple of seconds, then braved another glance at me. "It's not nice to throw things at people's houses?"

"Exactly," I said. I was starting to feel pretty good about this. I wasn't coming off as a complete asshole, and they weren't going to throw stuff at the house anymore, either. I asked the little one, "You're not going to do that kind of thing again, are you?"

He sheepishly said "No."

"Good. We can even be friends if you want to." I stuck out my hand. "My name's Bud."

He put out his hand and told me his name. He had a firm grip. He seemed like a good kid.

I said "Nice to meet you. I like to throw things, too. Throwing stuff is fun. That's why they invented baseball and basketball, you know." Okay, now I'm sounding like an old person, I thought. I walked back towards my house. Obviously, I wasn't going to bring their folks into it. I asked the middle one, "Is this your grandparents' house?" That was my guess, because I never see kids back there during the week, only sometimes on the weekends.

"My mom lives here," he said.

Ah, I thought. Divorce. Poor kid. No wonder they were smashing pumpkins and throwing the pieces at people's houses.

I went back to my house. I didn't see them playing anymore this afternoon. I felt bad about that.

I guess I did O.K, though. I'm never sure.

I am sure I handled it better than I did the last time I had to confront neighborhood kids.

There's a huge family next door — I think they have 6 kids — and there's always a lot going on over there. One day last fall, two of the neighbor boys and a visitor (all around 10 years old, I'd guess) thought it was fun to throw walnuts at my dog. The tip-off was the way she was barking.

Just like today, from the kitchen window I saw the kid throw the thing. Just like today, I stomped straight over there. Only unlike today, I displayed a lot of anger. I used a couple of bad words. I threatened them with parents, I threatened them with the police. I think I put the fear of God into those kids. Not only have they never thrown anything at my dogs again, but a year later they still won't look at me.

Strangely, I didn't feel all that bad about it until just a couple of days ago, when I happened to overhear their mother. The sun had just set and a few of the kids were playing basketball in the driveway. I heard their back door slam and the mother shouted at them, "Are you coming in here right now, or do I have to take my belt off?"

Eek.

It may not be easy to deal with kids sometimes, but being a kid — that can be truly hard sometimes.

God knows, when I was a kid, we threw a few things. In particular, I remember the older kids teasing me until I mustered up the guts to hurl my first water balloon. Which went right in the open window of a car. Which slammed on its brakes. And four kids ran in four directions.

We had our reasons for throwing things, too. We didn't stick around for the lectures, though. Early on, we mastered the fine art of Not Getting Caught. Of Running Like Hell.

We were complete bastards, really.

Kids today, at least the ones I meet, seem a lot nicer, or at least a lot more accepting of adult authority.

It feels really weird to be perceived as an "adult authority figure." I hope I'm doing it right.

What I keep wondering is why these kids are so lousy at being kids. Not that I'm complaining, really.

Posted by Me at 22:49 link