On Camping

I have returned-intact, yet-from a weekend of camping fun over at Baker Bay with the missus, her Sweet Adelines quartet “Diamonds in the Rough”, and their husbands (one of whom sings in my quartet, “It’s About Time”).

Now before I say another word, let me tell you that I really did have a good time. I got to know the other ladies (and their husbands) a bit better, and with the exceptions of a brief return to civilization to direct the chorus I belong to at a funeral and some sort of minor gastric issue, I really did have a good time.

Getting to that good time, however, is another story. 

Here’s all I’m going to share of the Friday we left: I knew that it was supposed to be the hottest weekend to date up here; I wasn’t looking forward to attending that funeral that I was to direct the chorus in (the gentleman in question was a long time member of the chapter and a good man to one and all--he will be missed!), I was not having any success in rounding up the man-cat so I could take him to grammy and grampy cat’s for the weekend (he’s diabetic, and needs shots twice a day--the man-cat, not grampy cat). I had to load the trunk carefully while the missus was at work, get quarters for the freaking showers (fifty cents to a buck in quarters to shower is obscene), and once I got back from that little side trip had to inflate four bicycle tires so I could go choke on dust at some point in this little back to nature thing. 

Needless to say that when we left, I was not a happy camper.

I thought all along that most Sweet Adelines were all into things like shopping, bling, massages, spa treatments, and fancy meals. I found out that isn’t always the case, but I’m not going there today, kids. (Remember, I’ve seen their Harmony Bazaar and thus know a bit better than that.)

Now camping to me is a bit like playing in the snow. I’ll do it, but there are things I prefer doing. At least camping is a summer event so that makes it a lot easier for me to deal with. And it’s not like I have never been camping; as a kid I went to Camp Pinecrest, Loma Mar, Hot Sulphur Springs and Silver Spur--in addition to band and drum corps camps and tours. (I won’t count boot camp in there...that’s a whole different world.) My folks had a 1972 Dodge Commander motor home, and on rare occasions we actually used it to camp in.

In addition, the missus and I have been members of KOA since 2007, and I’ve had an REI card since 1984. I still have my original card, too. I keep getting told I really should get a new one, but I love to see people have to manually enter my membership number with no barcode and no magnetic stripes--the older cards never had them. Almost all our camping gear is from either REI or Coleman. (There’s some folks who have figured out the camping thing as well.)

But as an adult, I find I like certain creature comforts...you know, clean beds, electricity, low dirt, no bugs or other vermin, and a restroom that is clean, doesn’t stink, and doesn’t need wiping down every time I walk into it. Internet connections, breakfast on the property, and good food nearby are considered plusses. I have said in the past that my idea of getting back to nature is staying at a Doubletree Inn, roughing it means there's no hot tub, and foraging for food means there's no restaurant on site.  

And yet, I truly do enjoy camping if it’s done right. This is why we typically stay in Kamping Kabins at KOA’s; one other thing I like is a real bed for my back. I have Dad Crandall’s back: shoulder and low back issues have been nothing new since intermediate school. (We do have inflatable camp pads and a widget that plugs into the car’s cigarette lighter that inflates or deflates them in a minute or less, which helps that out a great deal.) 

However...this isn’t a defense of my lack of camping desire; I’ll go because I do like seeing some spectacular views and hanging out with folks also suffering under the delusion that their motor home with the king bed, microwave oven, mini fireplace, carpeting, and satellite dish is roughing it. (Ever notice they call those apartments on wheels the “Wilderness” model?) No, this blog really is about the great weekend we had. 

And we did have fun. The ladies took turns providing some awesome meals; they worked on their music (and drew audiences both nights, I might add); we all got to know each other a bit better; the gent who sings in my quartet made up some rockin’ ice cream Saturday night; I rediscovered why I don’t play dice games after getting creamed in Yahtzee not once but twice (I can’t roll fives or sixes if my life depended on it); and the fruit the missus packed in was out of this world. We had a chance to go floating in Dorena Lake; cracked bad puns; laughed much; ate more. I even learned how to clean a fish...which I why I greatly prefer catch and release, and buying my fish pre-cleaned and filleted. Seeing a plate of fish guts prior to breakfast is, shall we say, less than appetizing. Deena and I even rode the bikes a little in the campground, there is a biking trail around the lake but it was more milage than we had time or desire for. 

Sadly, the heat and all that wonderful food took a toll on me: late Saturday night I wasn’t feeling too well gastrically, and in fact as I wrote most of this am still not 100%. Several naps in the air conditioning once home and light meals all day Sunday--combined with much liquid that isn’t Coca-Cola (one of my few real vices, I’m afraid)--and a good night’s rest and I’m doing better but still not at 100%. Let’s just say that eating a Whopper Jr. with cheese--without a gall bladder--in 95 degree heat is probably something I shouldn’t do terribly often. Saturday night was a very long night for me, and thus Sunday breakfast didn’t sound good at all, even though it looked wonderful. 

The missus and I have decided one thing: when we have to camp outside of a KOA, we actually prefer doing the tent thing to a trailer. We were packed up and loaded in 45 minutes or less. I still prefer Kabins...but you can’t win them all. 

Enough for now.

On Google, Chrome, and Being Paranoid

Basic info: everyone, in order to access the internet, has to have a browser. There are five real contenders: Safari (Apple), Internet Explorer (Microsoft), Firefox (Mozilla), Opera (Opera), and Chrome (Google). Most of you, I would guess, are using Internet Explorer, as that’s pretty much the default browser on most Windows-based computers. (Which is too bad, really.) I use Safari; it’s faster, less buggier, and was designed to run on a Mac, because Apple designed it. Firefox and Opera are pretty good; I had Firefox as a backup browser but finally deleted it because I rarely used it.

Google wants to change your mind. Their browser-called Chrome-is fairly new, and I spent a few days some time back playing with it. It’s okay, I guess. Since I haven’t seen any major speed improvements, nor have I seen anything that makes it any better than Safari to me, I finally removed it from the Mac. It’s different, but really not any better than Safari to and/or for me.

Now, I am not really an Apple snob. I like to joke with family and friends, but as I have said before you need to have a computer that works well for you. Just because I think a Mac is a better deal, has less bugs, far less security issues, works better, looks cleaner, weighs a bit less and is a better machine than any Windows-based PC--ever--doesn’t mean you should run right out and get one right now. After dinner or even tomorrow will be soon enough. (Hmmm...maybe I am a bit of an Apple snob.)

But Chrome didn’t really impress me. You there--you with the Windows PC-- you might like it, however. It’s an improvement over IE 8. (So is IE 6, however.)

Google hasn’t taken over the Earth...yet. They’re getting close, but I will continue to not go there. I will keep using Safari, iWork and iLife, and not allow Google to totally take over my so-called online life. 

Should the fact that Google has a large amount of information on you bother you? Maybe. It sort of bothered me for a bit. 

I’ve spent a lot of time not creating a big digital footprint. This is partially because I work online, and partially by choice: there was a time in my life where I figured out the less people knew about me, the less they could tease, torment, and make my life miserable with. That has kind of stayed with me, and while I’ve gotten much better about this kind of thing, I like to keep a somewhat low profile. 

Now...Blogspot is owned by Google; therefore, they host this blog. I have a gmail account I am using for dissertation purposes and a few other things. Picasa (owned by Google) is where I have pictures for the blog stored. (I generally as a rule do not put my personal pics online; I do not want them harvested by a picture bot and used somewhere else without my knowledge.) Since I have all the above, I also have an iGoogle page, with widgets for everything from comics to the CBC newsreader. (I deleted the Google Latitude widget however, as I decided I don’t want the world to know where I am at all times. It’s none of the world’s business to know where I am 24/7.) I have a YouTube account, which is also owned by Google. And, of course, I use Google to find things; it’s the usually the default search engine for Safari but you can also use Yahoo search or Bing. I do not have Google Earth on the Mac, though it is on the iPod for now. (It’s one of those apps that “seemed like a good idea at the time.”) 

So, Google now knows what I like to watch, what kind of news I like, some of my hobbies, that I have boring email, etc. All of which can be targeted to advertisers, to sell me on a trip to Honolulu, Billund, Toronto, Cupertino, San Francisco, Nashville, or Vancouver. Or to sell me more stuff for the Mac. Or to let me know that there’s a new animated series that’s just been uploaded. Or to try and convince me that I really need whatever it is that is being touted. I also get ads trying to convince me of other things I allegedly need as well. (I can’t think of a reason I need--or want--bust enhancement creams, for example.)

It smells like Big Brother to me, in a sense. I could get really paranoid about this constant monitoring of my online stuff. 

But it doesn’t smell like Big Brother at the same time, because it is not all centrally located, and no single person could possibly keep track of one person by attempting to sift through all that data. And in my case, there just isn’t anything to hide, really. (So maybe it’s more like kid sister than Big Brother.)  

Now, I could move this blog to another blog site, move the pictures to flickr, close the gmail account, and reduce Google’s hold to simply YouTube for now. I won’t; it all works pretty well together. Why reinvent the wheel? Besides, I can change some things to Yahoo!...and I find I’d still have the same issue. So, I allow Google access to all this information knowingly, knowing that any info I use will be stored somewhere. There has to be a certain level of trust. 

Still...it never hurts to be careful, because you never know who’s minding the store. 

Enough for now.