Three Days Before Christmas

‘Twas three days before Christmas and all through the land,

the malls were a madhouse, shopping madness was fanned.

People were all over, driving like fools

to get some trinket to make someone drool.

But in our apartment, there was none of that dread

for Deena and I had planned well ahead. 

The gifts were all mailed, and so were the cards,

to places quite near, and to some that are far. 

The performances were done, and all with great care,

and we could finally relax and sit in our chairs. 

The groceries are bought and are ready to feast

out to my in-laws, who live to our east. 

The cats are all sleeping, there’s football to see,

and I had a chance to think of the year that should be.

More than that, though, I had a chance to ponder 

of Joseph and Mary, and how they had wondered

about the birth of Jesus, for that is the reason

we go through the madness of each Christmas season.

His birth was foretold in the days of the past,

and his time here was short-it wasn’t to last. 

He lived, he died, and he rose once again,

to provide us salvation-hallelujah, amen!

So in the insanity that is the holiday season,

take time out to think of the Savior-and reason

to ask forgiveness of sin, your spirit renewed

your life filled with peace-with His Spirit imbued.

----------

After all, Christmas is about the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, The Son of God the Father, the second person of the Living, Triune God. He was born of Mary, that He might be fully God-yet fully man. Do I understand why, after all the years in Bible school, Seminary, and so forth? 

No, I don't. What I do know that He is a holy, righteous, God. He is also a loving God, not wanting anyone to perish. That’s I’m glad He chose to come, live, die for my sins and yours...and come back to life. He died for all people. But before that...he had to be born, and that’s what we celebrate. 

Merry Christmas to all, and a blessed New Year as well. 

On the loss of Shadow, my beloved man-cat

He came to us on a cold, rainy late October-early November evening. He left on a cold November afternoon, full of years but no longer able to function, his own body betraying him, destroying his red blood cells from within. He came as he left: on his own terms.

November 6, my beloved man-cat Shadow (his picture is in the upper corner of this blog) slipped away while I sat in DFW, unable to be there. He went quickly, surrounded by Deena and her mom, his body failing him. They were preparing the shots that would ease his pain when he simply left this life. They injected him anyway, but it was no longer needed. I guess he’d had enough of needles, thank you.

He was the giver of kitty-kisses, the keeper of secrets, a nibbler of treats both forbidden and allowed. He loved carbs, oddly enough, and earned the nickname The Carb King. (He also liked yogurt, and would stick his nose way into a cup of the stuff to get at it.)  He was a man’s cat. He preferred men’s voices singing to women’s, and would come sit and listen when It’s About Time met at the apartment to rehearse. He was a smart cat, letting Cali do the dirty work of waking one of us up to feed them. 

Mostly he was my cat. Oh, he was nice to Deena-especially when she fed him-but I was the one he liked and made little secret of it. He knew when I was ill. When I was recovering from surgery a few years back, he didn’t go far. In winter, he’d curl up at our feet when we slept, knowing the electric blankets would be on.

He came to us a kitten, with bat-wing ears and monster paws, wanting to be with people when I was ministering at the church on Boonville, IN. It was raining, we lived on a busy state highway that ran through town, and his fur at that time was about the color of wet concrete. I told Deena to do something with him, before the senior pastor called Animal Control-or worse, the cute little bugger got hit. Since the garage was porous like a Swiss cheese, she put him in the basement.

We tried to find the owner but to no avail. He became king of his domain shortly thereafter, often watching anime with me after working hours. We left for Christmas that year, and on our return this kitten was suddenly a man-cat. We fixed that in short order. When we moved to Evansville, he cried like a baby, and noshed on my fingertips to the point where I couldn’t carry anything for several hours afterward.

He never was a lap cat, preferring to rub up against my legs while I worked on stuff. He once ate a fairly large amount of processed cheese stuff; we almost lost him then. We managed to get him stabilized, and he made the trip with us to Oregon, and when we moved into the apartment, joined his “sister” Cali. 

He mellowed a little with age, never totally liking when people came stomping up the stairs. Often, when I came in from wherever, he’d been in the cat-tree or on his pillow on the edge of the couch looking at me as if to say “Where you been?”


His purr-when he chose to do so-was a big, rumbly thing. And when I did the laundry, he'd come up on the bed and help press off something warm by laying on it.   

A little more than a year ago, he became diabetic, and we knew we were now on borrowed time with him. He was a good sport with his insulin shots, and still loved to romp and play like all good kitties do. He was active even right before I left, playing with a cat toy of some sort.

Even so, he’d been sleeping more, even by cat standards. Oh, he’d come in at four PM or so and love on me, and was a little friendlier than usual, even letting me drag him to the vet for his checkup. When I left, he sat next to my suitcase, watching me as I packed. Before I left, I got to pet him, told him goodbye, and to be a good boy-and that I’d be home soon. 

I didn’t know that would be the last time he’d hear those words from me. 

As I wrote most of this, I was still waiting for my flight. Still at DFW, tears in my eyes. Deena called, said he was anemic...badly anemic. I told her to have the emergency vet do what they could.

Not long after, the vet called me and told me he was going fast. I had them put Deena on, told her to take a few last pictures, tell him that Daddy-cat loved him...and then end his misery, put his body on ice, and I’d see the body when I get home. I called her from SFO, and she gave me the news he departed on his own terms. 

But I know that somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge, in a golden field with trees to climb, sits the spirit of my boy, dozing in the sun, chasing fat field mice, doing all the things that good kitties love to do, waiting for a voice...my voice, calling to him, telling him it’s time to come Home. 

Until then...I’m gonna miss my little man.

Rest in peace, buddy. 

On Border's, Photography, and the Digital Revolution

I recently went into my local Border’s and purchased three books on photography. They were 70% off; for a little more than 26 bucks I was able to get $90 work of reading material. Not too shabby, you ask me.

I’m sad to see Border’s closing. They're yet another victim of bad economic times, bad corporate mistakes and the digital revolution. There’s a Barnes and Noble over near Valley River Mall, but it’s not as convenient. Powell’s doesn’t have a local shop, and Smith Family Books and Tsunami books are also not as convenient. (And living here, I really miss Moe’s.) 

But my trip to Border’s books-and subsequent purchase-got me to thinking about another loss to the digital age: good photography-and the stores that supported it. 

It’s my opinion that the web is full of bad pictures. Not evil, not adult-though you can make an argument for that as well, and you’d be right-but just simply bad. For every five good pictures, there's at least a dozen bad ones. Sometimes they're blurry or out of focus, sometimes with no thought given to any sort of composition...and sometimes they look like they were taken by a three year old. Tops of heads missing, cut off at the knees, etc. Add to that the fact the most cellphones are the functional equivalent of an old Instamatic-or my Ektralite 10. They really weren’t designed to take photographic art...they were designed to take pictures of Uncle Art at the family picnic. 

Please understand: I have used my iPhone’s camera on more than one occasion, usually when I don’t want to haul my Minolta DiMage Z6 around. The iPhone’s okay-with 5 megapixels it’s better than many-but still no substitute for a real camera with a viewfinder. It’s hard for me, on a bright day, to shoot without a viewfinder-and I find I can’t compose the shot quite as well. (You can read about some of my cameras here.)

In the old days, there were stores that helped you with getting your gear, and at the very least showing you how to get going with it. When you were tired of that Instamatic and its fixed-focus lens...or of that Starflex with a fixed focus lens...or of that Polaroid that ate film like I eat pizza, you went to these stores and got better equipment. Once you had that, you went back for film, developing, additional lenses, flash equipment, camera bags, tripods, and so forth. There were books that showed you how to take better pictures, and things like gray cards and light meters. Fotomat kiosks dotted the landscape; if you were willing to pay for it you could get your prints back in a day.  

Then larger chains started eating away at those businesses, and when digital cameras really took over, they vanished. Fotomat was the first casualty; some stores started offering your prints in three hours or less...for less. Which was great when I was shooting 110 in high school; I took my film to Safeway because I could afford it on a high-school budget. 

But that came at a cost. Now places like Reed’s Camera in downtown Walnut Creek and Gerlach’s in Eugene, over by the UO-gone. Wentling’s in Concord, where I grew up, which still exists-but mainly does studio work, as near as I can tell. Dot Dotson’s in Eugene has made the transition to the digital age, and is still going but it isn’t quite as large as it was even a few years ago. Some places survive by having a broader appeal: Adolph Gasser’s in San Francisco, Helix Camera in Chicago, Pro Photo Supply in Portland, and B&H in New York are some great examples.  

But what’s sad is that people are taking scads more pictures. They take them, then attempt to photoshop them into something decent. News flash: A bad photo is still a bad photo, even after you’ve cropped it, colored it, added effects to it, and massaged the thing to the point where it no longer resembles the original work. Note: I do not have Photoshop. For the time my shots are on the MacBook, they reside in iPhoto, where I may on occasion crop a shot, lighten a dark shot, or color-correct a shot. I’m not against things like Photoshop...I am against taking something really bad and attempting to make it into something great online. 

In short: I’m the same way with cameras that I am with computers. Learn to use your equipment, please.

Which brings me back, in a roundabout way, to my final trip into Border’s. I went in there originally to see if they had one book on Applescript. They didn’t; the one copy that they did have before the chain tanked was sold at full price. Interestingly enough, many of the books on photography were now right in the computers section...which is why they’re now in my possession.

Seems appropriate enough, somehow: both books and photography are victims of the digital revolution.

Enough for now. 

On Steve Jobs Stepping Down

Well, it finally happened. After months and years of speculation on everything including health issues, it came to pass. 

Steve Jobs stepped down from his CEO slot at Apple. He remains Chairman of the Board. I don’t blame him for wanting to step down-after a liver transplant and pancreatic cancer, and making more money than some small third-world countries I think I’d want to slow down, too. Hey, we all get to that point sometime where we look at life-and what we’ve made of it, and what we’ve done-and say, “Enough already.”

I’m not going to say much-too much has already been said in the last twenty-four hours-but there are a few thoughts. 

His career included work on the Apple II (on which I learned to program AppleSoft), then taking over work on the Macintosh (now better known as the Mac) after the failure of Lisa, its predecessor. The iPad, iPod, iPhone-all have his fingerprints all over it, as does OS X. Add to that what he did with Pixar and music (iTunes)-and his work will live on for quite a long time. Plus he loved what he did. How many of us can say the same thing?

There have been many quotes that he’s given. This one is from a commencement speech he gave at Stanford in 2005: “Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.”

Another one was sent as a text message to an app developer who had infringed a bit on the iPod name: “Change your apps name. Not that big of a deal.” (They did, by the way.) What I like about that quote is that it is to the point. No wasted words, no formality per se. 

And from that same speech at Stanford, there is “One Last Thing...” 

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

I’d say in some ways the man has done more with his life than any five of us combined has. I wish him peace and long life.

Enough for now. 

On Social Media

So there was a social media conference in Seattle, and I was in attendance. There were classes and discussions for SMS, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and blogging. There were “intermediate” sessions and “advanced” sessions. 

I discovered that there needed to be a middle ground as the intermediate session was a little too basic, and too many people’s eyes got that deer in the headlights look in the advanced Facebook session. (They started talking about coding a Facebook app, source code, and Google Analytics, and I could hear the eyes glazing over. Seriously.) The same occurred in the YouTube session when there was a discussion of the Insight function for one’s channel. 

But sitting there got me to thinking. Never mind how much social media has changed how we do business, but how much computers and the internet has changed our lives just in the last sixteen years. 

As I sat there, thinking back to 1995...there was no Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, or MySpace. (Some would say there’s no MySpace now.) There wasn’t really laptops as we know them now; it took Apple’s Powerbooks, Windows 95 (really), and Intel’s Pentium level chips to really kick things off. We will not discuss BBS’s or AOL (sometimes privately referred to as America Offline). Most of us had computers that sat on desks; cell phones were still a bit of a novelty-and we all had landlines. 

My, how times have changed. 

They wanted us to turn off our cell phones, but then realized that was counter to tweeting. (So they asked us to set them on vibrate.) It used to be that we weren’t reachable 24 hours a day; now we can be reached at all hours. Even beepers weren’t that bad as they could be turned off if need be. Computers were tools that aided productivity; now people produce reports that nobody reads simply because they can. Social media used to be a night home watching the TV with friends and family, or maybe taking that cute thing you were dating to a movie with friends. We used to call that a “double date.”

In the end, I’m glad I went to this seminar. I still have to write up the official reports and get them in the hands of those who sent me...but I do think about how all this technology has changed our lives, and how it will continue to change lives well into the future.

Enough for now.

On the iPhone 4 and Travel

I have a new piece of Apple gear. No great shock to just about all of you; you all saw it coming. 

I finally have an iPhone. Specifically an iPhone 4, 16GB model. Verizon made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. 

Now, in truth I wanted to wait for the iPhone 5. But I had a credit that was due to expire the end of July, and the phone I use for work purposes was approaching four or five years of age. The issue wasn’t my personal phone at all...it was the need to upgrade my work phone. I chose to do that by getting an iPhone, and taking my Samsung Alias 2 and making that my work phone, as it’s just over two years old. (And, I might add, in far better shape than the old LG that had been the work phone.) This saves the school money in the long term, as they don’t have to buy a new phone.

The iPhone is fun for me. I can now look up stuff on the fly without needing a wi-fi signal which for me would have been nice when I was in high school or college and was curious about something. The nice man at Verizon said I’d use my trusty MacBook less. 

He lied. I’m actually using it more. Not just for recharging and updates, or adding apps to the phone. (Very few games, no added photos or videos, and no music. That’s why I have an iPod.) I find that looking some things up is easier when I know where not to look. Traveling is going to be a little easier; now I can check for e-mail and stuff like that on the fly.

Speaking of traveling...traveling in the digital age can be a pain. When I was in high school, all I needed for a trip had to fit in a small to medium suitcase, a flight bag, and a sleeping bag and pillow. Tape deck fit in the flight bag, along with a few tapes and a 110 camera and some film. My pills were limited to a few extra days over the trip length. Clothes were t-shirts, jeans, a hat, and clean underwear and socks. Band jacket for band tour. 

Now I can’t get out of the house without several chargers, the iPod, iPhone, Macbook, my Minolta DiMage Z6 and extra batteries, several books and magazines, a card reader for the card in my camera, several flash drives, a GPS and all its needs, and a six-outlet power strip. Clothes? A vest, jacket, polo shirts and t-shirts, several pairs of pants in case one rips or I get sloppy with lunch, clean underwear, socks, a knee pillow, a hat or two depending on where I’m going. If I’m driving instead of flying, my pillow makes the trip as well; it’s tough to cram a memoryfoam pillow in a suitcase. Pills? I have to take a week’s worth or more: vitamins, prilosec, carbamazepine, fish oil, fibre, cal-mag-zinc, Claritin in season (The season is March through roughly the Fourth of July), vitamin D supplements (it rains in Oregon a lot, so seeing the sun is a rare sighting) and a digestive aid. My backpack weighs as much as my suitcase did in high school, and my suitcase needs a small crane. 

And that’s when I’m traveling light. 

You think that’s bad...the missus being the woman she is can, on occasion, be far worse. She packs for every conceivable thing, from getting a last minute invite to a state dinner to the apocalypse. You single guys are laughing because you think I’m joking. You married men are laughing because your wife does the same thing. You ladies aren’t laughing, because you all pack the same way. Do you really need to pack a sweater in the middle of summer? If we are gone more than four days, the suitcase requires a herculean effort to get into the trunk. She kids me about packing for a weekend in a ziploc bag; more than once I’ve been called a sick puppy for packing my entire clothing needs for a weekend in a small duffel bag. That’s because I refuse to take a parka with me in 100 degree heat, especially when we’re staying in a motel. 

In all fairness, sometimes I pack too light. I now have four swimsuits because I kept forgetting to pack one. So it does work both ways, and no, Deena does NOT pack my stuff. 

Married techogeeks, you know the drill. Pack all the gear and stuff, travel to where you’re going, and stop wherever it is you’re going to and set up a mobile command center. I’m no different. NASA didn’t send this much digital stuff to the moon, much less the International Space Station. (At least they had the Canada Arm to help unload it all.) Set up the laptop and make sure you’ve connected to the web. Plug in the phone, so it has a full charge on it. Plug in the GPS, and make sure it’s charging. If you have a portable DVD player for the car, better charge that, too. (We don’t have one of those.) Charge the iPod, if need be. And because the missus and I are a mixed marriage-I’m a Mac, she’s a PC-we often have her laptop or netbook, plus her phone, digital camera, mp3 player, etc. It’s a good thing we don’t have kids; there’s no room for them in the Honda when we go somewhere. And by the time we’re done setting up, we don’t have a hotel room...we have a Borg regeneration chamber.

I wonder what we’ll have to carry next. 

Enough for now. 


ADDENDUM:

It has been pointed out to me by my charming bride that since her surgery she no longer packs a parka or a sweater for 100 degree days. Instead, she now carries a fleece jacket or a sweatshirt. Nor does she carry her entire wardrobe, unless she’s with her quartet. (Just half of it. I, like most men, am not capable of understanding how any woman can have a closet full of clothes and still say-with a straight face-that you have nothing to wear. It must be A Girl Thing.) 


In my own defense, however, I must point out this whole article is somewhat tongue-in-cheek, except the Borg part. We really do carry that much electronic gear with us. And the Macpack still weighs in impressively.

On What's In My Food

One of the very few vices I have any more is caffeine. Oh, I like bacon, and still find myself eating from time to time like a man half my age, but certain things have had to improve in my life. Caffeine is not one of those, however.

Specifically, Coca-Cola is usually my caffeinated beverage of choice; followed by Earl Grey or Chai teas. And even those are in moderation anymore; not because of the caffeine but because without a gallbladder I have enough issues with stomach acids. (I’ve discovered a wonderful thing called Prilosec. It’s been very helpful with certain issues.)

Anyway...the missus and I went shopping one evening in preparation for a camping trip we were taking. Because she has to be careful of what she eats (and I ought to be), we spent a lot of time looking at labels. She’s done this for a number of years now; and I’m trying to be supportive of this little habit. Tonight, however, I’ve hit on something a number of you probably already know: High Fructose Corn Syrup (aka “Corn Sugar”) is in bloody near everything we eat. 

Why?

It’s in spaghetti sauce. Hot dogs (which I know aren’t terribly healthy to start with). Breads and buns. Pickle relish-which to me is silly, as it’s supposed to be sour. Graham Crackers. Ketchup. And yes, in almost every soft drink-where I would reasonably expect to find it. 

It’s no blessed wonder we’re all getting fat and becoming diabetic!

Try it, next time you go to the store. Look at the labels; I think a number of you will be mighty surprised at what’s in your food. You don’t need to be a cook, you need to be a chemist.

Now...I’ve said before my body is a product of science. Better living through chemistry; as a lifelong epileptic I know what my meds have been slowly doing to me over thirty five years. I’ve become hideously light-sensitive, for starters. We won’t discuss the long term effects of my meds. The alternative-Grand Mal seizures-is a far, far worse thing, however. But back to my main point: The amount of corn sweetener-or any other sweetener-in our food is disgusting. I’m not a big fan of it in my caffeinated beverage of choice, but will keep drinking the stuff anyway.  

I’ll also admit I like presweetened cereal as well. But that is a treat, not a daily occurrence. Most of the time (not all, but most) I try to eat something for breakfast that’s reasonably good for me. (I’m enjoying Northern Gold granola with raspberries and blueberries for breakfast these days, for example.) If I get a box of Sugar Frosted Flakes, I expect sugar. (Duh. That’s why I buy it.)

But breads, sauces, and other things shouldn’t have that kind of sweetness to them. We feed ourselves and our kids this stuff, then they lose recess time and PE, and then we wonder why children are drugged with Ritalin to calm them down. They’re on a perpetual sugar binge!

Now I can’t change things that much. But I am learning to watch what’s in food...and it’s making me want to tell you to do the same. You don’t have to buy organic (I don’t-we can’t afford it!) but you should take a good look at what’s in all the food you buy. It’ll be an eye-opener for you.

It has been for me. 

Enough for now.