Monster

Insight from velociworld.com:

 

What transpired in Newtown, Connecticut today beggars belief. I've been through Newtown as a college student, and Norman Rockwell could not have painted a more exquisite little hamlet. But this would be a howling tragedy in Compton, or Detroit, as well. Slaughtering toddlers, children, is so especially heinous as to cause all of us to take a moment, and grieve for our imperfect species. History is replete with our ability, and often our tendency, to be monsters. But to shoot one's mother in the face, and then slaughter her kindergarten class? I don't know what to say about that.
Forget the political poseurs. They will be, and are, raising their needy heads. I have no desire to enter the fray of gun-free-zones versus heat-packing librarians. I've eaten herring before, and did not particularly care for it.
What we do have, however, is a seriously psychotic individual acting out a rage that is incomprehensible to the vast majority of us. Shooting toddlers. Someone, somewhere, brought this upon this village. I find it inconceivable that this fellow awakened this morning and thought for the first time Today is the day I go berserker.
Again, I do not see this as a gun issue. It is a crazy people issue. I have no facts, I am intuiting here, but I would wager this young fiend, who is by various descriptions autistic, Asbergian, schizophrenic, has a well-documented history of aberrant, dangerous behavior. I am by no means casting aspersions on the autistic. I have friends with autistic children. It is a heart-rending challenge, but it is by no means this. This is something else entirely.
No, there are some dead kittens quietly buried, some violently aggressive behaviors salted away, some red flags screaming Institutionalize this young man! that we, as family members, as community members, are often too loathe to do. We are historically a nation of fixers. We think we can fix that bad hatchling. Also, of late, we are a nation of cringers. We cannot summon the spine to do what sometimes must be done. We have deinstitutionalized every mentally ill person in the nation, to prowl the streets and haunt our commutes. To defecate in our common areas, and terrify our children. Our sense of compassion is noble, but most certainly displaced.
I'm not so much a believer in Good and Evil as I am in Biology. Mother Nature often gives birth to some troublesome mistakes. If you don't believe me visit a Ripley's museum. It's relatively easy to repair a cleft palate. It's not so easy to fix cleft souls. They are harder to detect, and as impossible as quicksilver to get one's hands on. But they indicate, as the medicos say. The flags go up. The shots are sent with regularity across the bow. The question is how do we deal with these indicators as a society?
We are often mocked in the South for locking our crazy aunts in the attic. My family didn't, but I can think of one or two who should have been. There's a good reason you lock the crazy aunt in the attic. I would posit there's a good reason that crazy half uncle never returned from that hunting excursion. If I'm a rancher and my cow gives birth to a two-headed calf I'll either 1) parade it around for money or 2) asphyxiate it. I'm not going to leave it with the herd and pretend it's okay. Because it's not. It's eventually going to kill itself because the one body struggles with satisfying two competing brains. It's cruel to treat it normally.
I figure this Lanza fellow was like that calf. Mom and Dad certainly couldn't parade his abnormalities around for money, but they refused to institutionalize him. And eventually those two minds had had enough. Tough love is a hard thing. I'm glad I've never had to make such choices. I would probably flagellate myself senseless if I institutionalized my child. But I'd sleep like a baby compared to what I would feel if my child had done this thing we witnessed today. That, of course, is assuming I wasn't the first one killed, like Mom.

PGR mission shaping up

The crazies from the Westboro Baptist Church have announced they will go to Newtowon, CT to demonstrate at the funerals of the victims of this week’s massacre.

Seems they want to celebrate God’s judgment on those poor kids and their teachers.

This could be the mother of all Patriot Guard Riders missions. Google maps says it’s 1,203 miles from here to Newtown. Hmmmmm.

I’m gonna be sad when this goes away

This is the smoothest porter I’ve ever tasted. I brought a 12-pack home from Indiana last month and gave the last one to a friend the other day.

The liquor store just across the county line doesn’t have it, but I found it this afternoon at Mr. T’s Riverside, just across the state line in Missouri.

Leinenkugel plans to offer it through Feb. 1.

I knew it looked familiar

One of the projects on an episode of American Restoration last night was a 1940s Taylor Tot stroller.

The more I looked at it, the surer I was that my parents had one when I was little.

I delved into the archives this evening and found this photo of me pulling a wheelie on an identical Taylor Tot stroller in the back yard of our house at 609 E. Franklin Street in Delphi, Indiana, circa 1947.

The one on the TV show was turquoise. I have no idea what color mine was, but turquoise is a good bet.

Mom and me out for a stroll.

The view from my hammock

Too cold here. I’m ready for more Florida.

You’ll never guess

Guess What This Is? And don't peek right away!!

Hint: picture was taken in 1956...
Answer below...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It's a hard disk drive back in 1956 ... With 5 MB of storage.
In September 1956 IBM launched the 305 RAMAC, the first 'SUPER' computer with a hard disk drive (HDD).
The HDD weighed over a ton and stored a 'whopping' 5 MB of data.
Do you appreciate your 8 GB memory stick a little more now?

Pete continues to bring happiness to others

Our beloved Pete, who left us just before Thanksgiving when his liver gave out, is the gift who keeps on giving.

I got an email from CafePress.com this evening saying they were depositing about $26 in my PayPal account from the sale of items with Pete's face.

I created a storefront on CafePress a couple of years ago with Pete's picture and the words "Aussies Rule!" and then promptly forgot about it.

I can't tell you how good it makes me feel to know Pete's face is making people happy on t-shirts, throw pillows, steins and other stuff. You can see it at http://www.cafepress.com/bucksnortproductions/7317420
But don't take this as a sales pitch. It's just me missing Pete.

I also created a line of products with this image:

Here’s Pete and me with a tote bag in his likeness:

An amusing possibility

We stopped for a late lunch at a family restaurant – a western-themed steakhouse – in Alabama, en route home from Florida on Friday.

Before we left, I visited the Cowboys’ room and noticed (how could I not notice?) little flat-screen TVs over the urinals playing football highlights.

I’ve seen advertising placards and newspaper sports pages posted at urinal eye level in restaurants before, but never TVs.

Given the general level of homophobia – real or feigned – among American males, it occurred to me that it would be amusing to alter the programming so that whenever both urinals were in simultaneous use, after say 5 seconds, the video would change abruptly from manly sports content to gay porn.

I expect the scramble to zip up and get out the door would be hilarious.

Margarita brainfreeze in paradise

Here I am experiencing a frozen Margarita brainfreeze at The Fountains in Orlando, Fla., last Thursday noon. That’s a layer of Grand Marnier on the bottom of the glass. Mmmmmmmmouch.

There are the trip stats, mostly so I can reference them later:

We left about 9 a.m. on Saturday and returned about 10:45 p.m. the following Friday.

• Total Miles: 2,173
• Maximum Speed: 83 mph
• Time spent moving: 38 hours, 10 minutes
• Average speed (while moving): 57 mph

A case of mistaken identity

We were having a late lunch yesterday when the little boy in the booth behind me decided I might be Santa Claus. He kept staring, despite his parents’ embarrassment. We assured them we didn’t mind.

Now, we’re off to the Reindeer Games.

The fisherman’s son

Maria gets credit for this shot of a fisherman’s son, crashed out on the Flagler Beach Pier.

She noticed the boy and I took a few shots, then she grabbed the camera and got down low for this superior photo.

I love the way the HDR brings out the texture of the weathered wood.

The bird is the word

I noticed this bird on the Flagler Pier railing as I was photographing surfers last Wednesday. Not sure if he’s a surfin’ bird or not.

And then there were these shots:

Still exploring vacation images

This guy and a friend were working the surf south of the Flagler Beach Pier on Wednesday afternoon.

Where we were

The morning view from our bedroom window at The Fountains in Orlando.

Home and playing with images

We left Orlando about 7:30 a.m. EST and arrived at home about 10:45 p.m. CST. It was a long-ass day in the Lexus, but we got it done and saved the expense of a motel a few hours from home.

And now I can play with the images we shot. I got very lucky with the golden light of late afternoon Wednesday at Flagler Beach where a bunch of boys were surfing right next to the Flagler Pier.

I was using a Nikon D200 with a Nikkor 80-200 mm f/2.8 lens. I had the camera set for ISO 200 and aperture priority with the lens wide open, which yielded shutter speeds in the 1/1000 and 1/2000 range. The result was magic – the best surfing shots I’ve ever done.

And since I shot everything in camera RAW format, I can use my HDR software to create images like this.

Vacation report

The view from the hammock.

Followed by margaritas at poolside.

Thursday morning report

We drove back to the Atlantic coast yesterday. The first stop was BMW Motorcycles of Orlando where I bought a couple of t-shirts. Then we went on a quest for German food. The German restaurant on A1A where I dined with Indianapolis BMW Club friends during Bike Week in 1993 is still there but they don’t serve lunch on Wednesdays.

So we asked Garmin to find us another German restaurant and it took us to a mall across from the Daytona Speedway where we finally located Mr. Dunderbak’s, a quirky little bistro that served us the toughest schnitzel I’ve ever wrestled with.

We cruised up to Palm Coast and the Byrd’s Nest Quilt Shop and some Baskin-Robbins ice cream.

The sun sets early here this time of year, so we gambled that we’d have some golden light just before sunset down at Flagler Beach. The surf was up, the kids were surfing, and the light was perfect for about 15 minutes. We each shot about 330 images and this is one of my favorites.

Returning to Orlando, we gave Garmin one more chance to find us good food and this time it came through with a Mexican restaurant called El Patron. Maria had the tacos carnitas and I had the enchilada suizas. Both were spectacular and we brought home leftovers for today’s lunch.

Real height vs. the illusion of height

If you know me, you know I have serious acrophobia – fear of heights. So the warning signs at Soarin’, the premiere new ride at EPCOT, telling people who have a fear of heights to avoid the ride, had me a bit worried as we shuffled along in line for 25 minutes.

I needn’t have worried. Even though the ride hoists you some 40 feet up and into a wrap-around, 360-degree projection screen, I had no sense that I was any great distance off of the floor. To my nervous system, it seems there is a big difference between actual height and the illusion of height. And this was pure illusion.

It was great fun swooping and banking through California’s most scenic spots, but a huge letdown when the ride ended after only 4 minutes and 30 seconds. WTF?

Checking EPCOT off of the to-do list

We got to EPCOT shortly after the gates opened at 9 a.m. and went immediately to the premiere ride, Soarin’, which simulates a hang glider flight over the most scenic parts of California. The wait for the ride on some days can be 5 hours. Five freaking hours for a 4 minute 30 second ride. It was fun, but hardly worth five hours in line. I’m glad we were able to do it with only 25 minutes in line.

This was my third visit to EPCOT. I was here with my kids the first Christmas it was open (1982) and again in 1994. I wanted Maria to see it, so we went today. I don’t need to see it again.

We walked all over the place and finally staggered back to the car in the parking lot about 2:30 p.m.

Dinner was fabulous leftovers from last night’s visit to Buca di Beppo.

Breakfast on the balcony

We’re on our 7th floor balcony with fruit parfait and coffee, watching ducks and what I have tentatively identified as an egret down in the lake.

We’re off to EPCOT this morning. I was here when it was brand new in the early 1980s and again about 1995. It seemed shockingly dated in ‘95 and I hope it isn’t worse now. We shall see.