Sometimes...A Picture Turns Out, Well...Almost Perfect

I take a lot of pictures. Thanks to digital photography and almost free memory, taking a lot of pictures is something I couldn't imagine even twenty years ago. I know others who take many more pictures that I do, but I have over 26K photos in my photo library. 

And this is from taking pictures for the last ten years or so.

When you take a lot of pictures (and because they're opposition in all things...) you get both the good and the bad. You get some great shots and some stinkers. I try to showcase some of the good ones. With my "Pic Of The Day" selections I choose photographs I find interesting, shots that will evoke an emotion, or leave an impression. Sunsets work great for that and fortunately, I live in a spot where the sunsets can be gorgeous.

Last Sunday I took a couple of photographs while at church and I used the better of the two (in my opinion...) for my "Pic Of The Day" for that day. The other picture was okay, but I didn't like it as much. I've gone back and looked at the picture I used several times in the past week and I just love it. I love the composition, even though I'm not an expert in the composition of photographs. I love the lighting. I love the building where the photo was taken. I love the position of the boy on the bench (as well as the boy...), even though it doesn't look like the most comfortable position for a person on a bench.

This picture's not going to win any awards, even if I entered it in a contest. It's one of literally thousands I've posted. I posted a new picture tonight--it's on this blog post. Depending on when you see this blog post, the photo I used today may be long gone and replaced by another picture. But buried in all those 26K photos, there's some that I like more than others.

The one I used last Sunday, the one of my son kicking back on a bench in our church foyer is one of my favorites. 

Check Out The "Space Jam" Movie Website...A Blast From The Past

I was listening to a podcast last week when one of the presenters said an off-hand comment about a website that has not changed since it went live. That's not so unusual, except this website was launched in 1996, over twenty years ago.

It's hard to remember what the internet looked like in 1996, but for those of us that were using the internet back then in its infancy (at least, when it first became an option for the general public...), please go to this website and check it out. It'll all come flooding back. It's the website for the movie, Space Jam. You can access the site: HERE.

I never actually saw the movie, Space Jam. When it came out, our first sone was only one, too young to want to watch it. The film then became one of thousands that just sort of blended together in shows we never watched. Since I wasn't much interested in the film, I never thought about going to the film's website. And I've not had the desire to check it out between 1996 and today, until I heard that it hasn't changed.

I'm sure that when it came out, the website was modern, up-to-date. It had all the information that would satisfy fans of the show. I mean, you could get information on the athletes, the actors, the teams--it was a cornucopia of knowledge, a real date feast just waiting to be eaten.

After checking out the ancient (by electronic standards...) site, I wondered why they never touched it, why they didn't either update it or take it down. Maybe they thought it was a fitting tribute to the show, or maybe they just forgot about it. Apparently, Space Jam 2 is on it's way. This will no doubt generate interest in the original film. They could make changes to the Space Jam website, but I hope they don't. I hope they keep it just the way it is. That way, if I ever wonder what the internet looked like back in the mid-1990s, with one click I can find out. And if you check it out by accessing the above link, you'll find out too.

I'm Seeing A Lot More Blue Out There Lately...

If you live near me, you're probably seeing more of the color blue lately, and it's not just because the fires have weakened and the sky is clearer. It's because fans of a football team located approximately sixty miles to the south me are excited, excited about the prospect of the future.

And they should be.

It's not that the BYU blue went away entirely--far from it. There have always been and there will always be fans of the school, be they alumni or not. They support their team, they wear their colors. But last year was a down year for the program, very un-BYU-esk. They didn't have a winning season and they didn't go to a bowl game. But when your team starts the season 3-1 including beating a top-10 team on the road, that's a reason to break out the flags, hats, shirts, bumper stickers, and neckties on Sunday.

I've made no bones about the fact that this team, this school's sports program in general, is not a favorite of mine. It stems from constantly getting beat down by their programs year after year in the 80s and 90s. They destroyed all local competition (and many of big national teams, too...). Finally, FINALLY, after decades of abuse and humiliation, the tide turned. The men in red began to defeat the men in blue, and more and more red began appearing on the scene.

I have no idea how the rest of this season will go. BYU, currently ranked #20, plays another nationally ranked team in Washington tomorrow. When BYU beat Wisconsin a few weeks ago, I was generally happy for them. They played better and they beat a team that didn't respect them. I doubt Washington will make the same mistakes Wisconsin did. Still, the fans, the players, everyone involved in the program is excited for the challenge. If they win tomorrow, they could end up having a historic year. 

And, if BYU wins tomorrow, I know I'm going to see more blue out there. That's not a bad thing.

My Very Limited Funko Pop Addiction...

You've seen them. Chances are you've got a couple of dozen of them sitting somewhere in your house, be it in a china cabinet, or in your kid's bedrooms. They may be confined in their original packaging, or they're free from their card stock and plastic prisons.

They're Funko Pop figurines and they're everywhere.

Last week I bought my first one, not from this month's FanX Comic Con, not from a store, or from Ebay, but from a yard sale. It's a 2010 Batman and I like him.

For the past couple of years, my family members have found cute Funko Pop figurines at Salt Lake's FanX and Comic Con events--everyone, but me, that is. For some reason, I never saw one that I liked. It could have been the hundreds to choose from that distracted me. Whatever it was, I never found one I liked.

Last weekend, my wife and I stopped at a yard sale and I spotted this little guy. The seller was asking 50¢, but I gave him a dollar. A quick on-line search of my particular Batman showed a pristine Batman of this style in its box could fetch anywhere from $100 to $200. Mine is not pristine, nor do I have the box. Besides, I don't feel like getting rid of it.

I think one of the reasons I didn't want to get one before is because I didn't want to get the next one. They make so many that I know I'd want my favorite Star Wars characters, but which one of the literally hundreds do I choose? Same goes for Star Trek, and Firefly, Harry Potter, Peanuts, Marvel universe, and countless others. It can quickly become a very expensive addiction that can never be completely satisfied.

So, for now at least, I'll stick with my one. It's a good one. He's cute and older, and he sits at my desk at work. One day I might get some friends for him--maybe I ought to go to more yard sales.

Sleepin' In...

On any given week, I wake up early four days out of seven. That's not bad. I used to get up around 5:30am for those four days, but thanks to technology (and continued positive work evaluations...) I now work in my basement. That gives me four extra hours of sleep each week. That's not bad, either.

This schedule has worked out well for years and years. It's worked out in another way, too. Many in my family are night owls. You can get away with that if you homeschool. So on the nights when I don't need to get up early, I'll stay up until the wee hours of the morning. I didn't think about sleeping in too much--it was just something I was able to do on the days I didn't work.

That all changed at the end of June of this year.

That's when we got a puppy.

I'm not the kind of person who dispense advice, at least I don't think I do (maybe I've come across "preachy" in this blog, and if so, I apologize...). But there's one piece of advice I give freely--not to everyone, but to certain individuals. I will tell parents expecting the birth of their child/children that they should get as much sleep as possible, because once the child/children arrive, sleep becomes an unobtainable goal. I tell expecting parents this because each time we brought home another baby, I forgot just how much sleep I didn't get. I remembered the feedings/diaper changes/other new baby stuff, but I ALWAYS forgot that a good night's sleep would become something that was never a given.

It's been years since we've lost sleep because of a newborn in the home. When my son found a puppy that needed to be adopted, lack of sleep was not something I thought I'd have to even think about. And truth be told, if I kept a schedule Benjamin Franklin would approve of, I'd be getting enough sleep all along.

I should say, at this point, things have gotten much better for me as far as sleep goes. When we first got the puppy, it was during the longest days of the year and the dog knew when the sun would come up. Plus, we hadn't trained him so we were worried he needed to go out around 6am, or 6:15am. The dog is learning, as are we. On the days when I'm not working, the whole house is no longer being woken up by a barking dog. Thanks to my son (who is the dog's owner...), he's been so good at taking care and training his dog--a real rock star.

The other day I turned over after an uninterrupted sleep-filled night and snapped a picture of my old digital alarm clock. It was almost 8am, and it felt good to sleep in.

That Time My Cousin Was In A James Bond Film...

After a ten-hour shift, I sat down and turned on the TV. From time to time, I'll watch a show for a minute or two. This afternoon one of the channels was playing old James Bond films from the 1970s.

One Bond film ended, another one began. Turns out the one that started is the one my cousin is in.

The film, The Spy Who Loved Me, came out in 1977. I was in jr. high school in 1977. This was pre-internet days so one of the best ways to learn about a movie was to sit at lunchtime with your friends who had actually seen the show and talk about it. Everyone freaked out over the movie's opening scene where some baddies chase James down a mountain, shooting him and trying to kill him while skiing. This was also the time when I did a lot of skiing (an expensive all-day pass was $24 back then...). And when Bond skis off the cliff and deploys a Union Jack parachute, boy--that was hard to top.

And when I found out my cousin (well, technically, he was my mother's cousin, but he was born in 1951, closer to when we were born than my mother who was born in 1931 so we considered him our cousin...). His name was Robert Young and he was a skiing pioneer. I found his obituary when I googled him name earlier today. You can access it: HERE.

If Robert had been born twenty years later, he would have done well in the internet age. He was confident, brash, good-looking, and a huge personality. He probably would have competed in the Olympics as well. Plus, the arial training wouldn't have destroyed his body at such a young age. There were no pools to land in back then. It was trial-and-error on the slopes. 

Robert passed away in 2003--he was only fifty one. At the time I thought that was old. Since I'm older than that right now, it's not old at all. Since he was older, we didn't hang out much, but we sure knew of him. When we found out he was in The Spy Who Loved Me, we thought he was the skier who did the jump. Turns out, he was Bond's double but he didn't jump. Still, that's okay by me--I knew someone who was actually in a James Bond film.

If Robert were still alive, he'd be sixty-seven (still young in my book...). I'd love to sit down and chat about the life he led, the awards, the experiences, what it was like to be on a big-budget movie set. I suppose that conversation will have to wait for another time.

My Second Favorite Person Carl Bloch Ever Painted...

In church yesterday I noticed a painting that hangs prominently in the foyer. It's a reproduction of Carl Bloch's Christ Healing the Sick at Bethesda. It's from one of my favorite artists because he's a Dane, I love the subject matter, and I've seen the original.

I'm no art expert, nor have I studied art to the point where I can tell you why this is an example of a quality piece other than I like it and it makes me think about truly important things. I imagine all cultures and societies shun and hide the sick. In the paining we're shown by example to seek out and  sick and offer any comfort we can. There is one aspect of the painting that makes me think about these things every time I look at it.

It's the man sitting down on the steps next to the man who is sick.

There's a thousand thoughts expressed in his face.

Art should involve those who see it. It should evoke an emotional response, and this man's face does that for me every time I see it. 

What I see most, however, is a question.

And the question I see in the man's eyes is this, "What are you doing?"

For those who believe in the mission of Jesus Christ, we are given opportunities to serve others. We're to follow His example. In the painting Christ not only acknowledged the man hidden from the world, but gestures to him, sheds light on him, gives him hope--all while others have banished him from society.

What am I doing? Am I shunning others? Do I ignore those hidden who need help and can't help themselves? The man in the painting is calling to me. He's looking inside of me making me ask questions of myself. 

There's many people in Carl Bloch's paintings of Christ that make me stop and think. The old man with the beard looking up in The Sermon on the Mount, the woman in The Woman at the Well, Judas in The Last Supper, the crying man in The Burial of Christ. They all show an aspect of humanity, but it's the man sitting next to the banished that touches me the most. If you're not familiar with Carl Bloch's paintings, check out this website: HERE. There's some beautiful works of art there.

Dusted Off The Old Fraternity Ring...

I'm in a show with an actor who wears a big ring. If I remember correctly, it's his father's class ring and it's beautiful. I bought a class ring when I graduated from high school, but I lost it and never had it replaced. His ring reminded me of one ring I didn't loose--my college fraternity ring.

It's beautiful, too.

The fraternity no longer exists, which is a shame. I had a lot of good memories in that fraternity and met many I still consider friends to this day. Now, I have a few pictures, fading memories, a fraternity pin (that I seldom wear because I don't wear suits that often...), and my ring.

I decided to dust if off and I wore it to church and then to the shows we did today.

When I bought that ring, I had no idea the future. I had no idea where my life would take me or what experiences I'd get to enjoy. I thought it would be cool to have something that linked me to the organization, to the guys, to the Big Dog parties and the mini golf tournaments, to "Scamouflage," and to all the other events--big and small--that bonded us as friends and brothers.

As the years separate me from the events of decades past, so much has changed. I no longer dress the way I did in college. I can't fit into the same clothes, and the ring no longer fits on my right-hand ring finger. Since my fingers have gotten fatter, it barely fits on my pinkie. But if I were to take that ring, but it in a safe or strongbox, it'll keep for centuries. I hope my memories do, too.

What Did We Do On Our Anniversary? Lots...Including The Laundry

A few months ago I was sitting in the green room of our local community theater chatting with cast members as we waited our entrance. A fellow actor was on her laptop checking out China.

"China, huh?" I said (of course, I might have said something different--its been a few months...).

"Yeah. I'm checking out where my husband and I want to go for our anniversary in November," she said. "We're thinking of going to a place neither of us have ever been to, so we're considering China."

"That sounds like fun," I said.

And it does.

It make me think of the anniversaries my wife and I have celebrated. Today is #26. We didn't go to China. We went to Red Lobster and then I had to go to work. In those twenty-six years my wife and I have traveled maybe twice and only once have we left the state to celebrate our anniversary. The time we did leave the state, we never went more than 2 miles from the state line.

And we're okay with that.

Years ago my wife and I decided to homeschool. What does that have to do with traveling for an anniversary? When you homeschool you usually can only have one income. I didn't realize, back when we made the decision, how it would impact us as a married couple. My income wouldn't send us to China. It barely sent us to Nevada.

Today my wife and I had a great day. We spent the morning and half the afternoon together. We had a delicious lunch and we did laundry. I put in seven hours of work and now the last embers of the fire that was September 22 are dying out. 

Twenty-six years. It's been amazing, and I'm so glad she said, "yes."

Using Our Garage As...A Place To Park Our Van

Life is made up of small milestones, small battles (sometimes big battles...) where the outcome is either success or failure, or in rare cases, a stalemate. And if we can recognize the small victories when they happen, well...life is then truly great.

So, what small victory did I accomplish today? What task resulted in a better life for me and my family?

I put our van into our garage.

Yes, that's right. I drove the van into its assigned space--into the space for which it was designed and built. And it felt good.

I haven't lived in many places, but I imagine other places people do things similar to us when it comes to the accumulation of stuff. In short, we hoard. I know very few who do not hoard, at least, in some degree. I freely admit--I'm a hoarder. I blame my parents (but in a good way...). Both my parents were children during the Great Depression. I've heard stories about how my father, who was born in 1924, used his excellent marksman skills to shoot birds to feed his family.

My mom was younger, she was born in 1931, during the depression, but I'm sure those tough times made lasting impressions on their young minds. So, it makes sense that being raised by people who sometimes had actually nothing, would "collect" things in case they are needed in the future.

Do people where we live hoard things?

You bet we do!

And I have proof. We live in an affluent community, for the most part. We have a one-car garage in our home. That's unusual. Most--especially the new homes--have three-car garages and many of those garages are full of stuff. They might get one car in their three-car garage. The rest of the place is taken up with stuff. And many still need storage unit(s) for the rest of their things that can't fit in their garages and basements.

Don't get me wrong--I don't mean to judge. Heck, if I had the space, and the means (which is basically the same thing...), I would most likely have more stuff too. We are limited by the size of our house including the garage to collect more stuff, even though we probably have more stuff than we need.

Coming full circle, I was able to--by re-arranging some of my stuff--drive our van into our garage. We had to take the van out to temporarily store stuff like a desk and other things after my father-in-law's funeral. We're now prepared for the snow that we're all praying comes this winter.

Life is made up of small milestones. Getting our van in the garage = victory!

"Thank You For Holding...We'll Be With You Soon"

The term "customer service" is thrown around a lot nowadays, and for good reason. If a company doesn't provide good service, people will spend their time and money elsewhere. It's even one of the foundation principles of the company where I work--and it's a government agency.

Luckily, I haven't had many instances of poor customer service, at least, that I can recall. I'm sure there's times when service could have been better. Most times, I think people have provided me good customer service bordering on great. 

That's why what happened to me today was unusual. I had an issue with my cellphone provider so I gave them a call.

Several hours later, I hung up the phone.

And I was unable to speak with the right department after all that time.

I should say that I have been nothing but pleased with my provider. They've been great. And in the several years I've been with them, I've never had to call with an issue. Today, however, I needed to speak with someone in the prepay department. I was able to get through to the wrong department no problem at all. Then I was transferred and that's when I waited. 

My first call, I waited for one hour and seventeen minutes. That's when the call dropped. It wasn't that bad--I was working and had my call on speaker so I was able to keep working while waiting.

I called back after it disconnected and waited again. To their credit, they did warn me when I first called that wait times could be between an hour and then minutes and an hour and forty minutes. Since I still had a couple of hours of work left, I did the same thing--put it on speaker, set down the phone, and kept working.

Once I passed an hour, I thought it would be soon that I got to speak to the right person. At the hour and a half mark, I began to expect the call to go through. Nope. Then when I hit two hours, my work shift was over so I brought up the phone and kept waiting.

At the two and a half hour mark, I changed phones because I was worried the battery on my wireless phone would die. Since I switched phones, I don't have photo evidence of exactly how long I remained on hold--it was at least two and a half hours. Add that to the hour and seventeen minutes I was on hold before, and almost three hours of my day was spent waiting for someone on the other end to pick up, something that didn't happen. Finally, we decided to just drive down to the local store and have them help us out.

I'm lucky--my problem didn't require immediate attention, nor was it a big deal. I feel bad for others with more serious problems having to wait that long. Plus, I was able to do something productive why I waited. It wasn't wasted time. I think most people--even those working in tough customer service phone jobs--want to do a good job. It's the first time I've had problems with this particular company. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Of course, next time, I'll know better what I'm in for.

Fidgeting Around...

There's a fidget spinner on my desk at work. There's also a phone that sits atop my desk because from my phone comes podcasts, talk radio shows, and audiobooks.

But the phone also has a camera--not the best phone camera that's out there right now, but it's pretty good. The spinner sits just below one of the monitors, waiting to be played with, waiting to exercise those fidget needs that crop up from time to time when you're putting in ten-hour shifts.

Last week, I succumbed to the lure of the spinner (while on a break, of course...). I also picked up the phone and experimented with the video options on the phone. It's kind of hypnotic.

Here's what I came up with.

To be honest, I thought the visuals of the fidget spinner spinning would be cooler. I thought it would be more interesting. I suppose it is interesting, in it's own way--just not as interesting as I thought it would be.

I videoed it spinning at regular speed, at slow-motion, and at time-lapsed.

I don't fidget with the spinner too much at work, and since I videoed it, I've not touched it at all. When I do pick it up again, I'll probably not videotape it.

Then again, you never know...

Tis The Season...For Fire Fighting Planes

There's something else in the air besides all that smoke from raging forest fires--it's scores and scores of planes carrying fire fighting materials.

We've been hearing them all month long.

I'm not sure, but I think they take off from the local air force base--that's where they seem to be going when I see them fly over. Right now I believe there's several fires about a hundred miles to the south of us. I know several families were evacuated. I haven't heard much about how they're doing controlling the fires--hopefully, no news is good news in this instance.

We've had fires on our mountain before. One almost caused an evacuation a week before we moved into our newly-built home. That was July, 2003. That was a bad one--thankfully no homes were destroyed, but it came close, within feet of some homes. We had another fire maybe six or seven years ago. That wasn't as bad, but I remember the planes dropping the red stuff on the flames.

Today the planes continued. I could hear them as I sat at my desk at work. I guess as long as the planes are flying, there's still fires to put out. It also means that help is still coming from the air. Every year we see the planes. It seems we've seen more this year than normal. Glad they're up there. Glad they're helping. I hope I stop seeing the flights soon.

Time Flew In Church Last Week...

So, the past couple of weeks have been a blur. We closed at show at the beginning of the month. The next week I attended all three days of the FanX comic convention--basically I stood around for 12 + hours a day for three days. Not to be outdone, the following week I started my p/t gig at Lagoon's Frightmares, in addition to driving my daughter around as she and her fellow cast members learned an entirely new show in five days. And to top things off, I did a book signing on Saturday in between working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at Lagoon.

It's been quite a month.

Which brings me to attending Sunday services over the weekend.

I only attended the first hour (because I had to go to work...), but I must say, that first hour flew by. There was nothing special about the meeting. It was your basic LDS Sacrament meeting with ward business, the administering of the Sacrament, songs, prayers, and speakers.

So, why did the meeting go by so quickly?

Basically, because I slept through half of it.

After the Sacrament was administered, we had a youth speaker, a charming boy, and he started hot--funny stuff, good jokes.

The next thing I heard was music playing. It was the rest hymn. That meant I missed most of the youth's speaker's talk and then the entirely of the second speaker. After the rest hymn, a neighbor sitting by us asked if I was okay, if I needed anything.

"More sleep," was my response.

I'm hoping that next week I won't be as tired. We'll be three weeks separated from the show ending, two weeks separated from FanX, and a week separated from starting another show and doing a book signing. Of course, who knows what the future will bring?

I Survived...My First Book Signing

Last week I announced on my blog that I would be doing a book signing on Saturday at the Barnes & Noble bookstore in West Jordan, Utah. Needless to say, the response was wonderful. I had over six-hundred views on my blog (I average about 100 views per blog post...), and I had several likes, comments, and shares from my Facebook post. 

It made the thought of doing a book signing less terrifying.

Perhaps I should clarify. 

I always thought doing a book signing could be an amazing experience. People would come over to the table, talk about books and your book in particular, and even buy a book signed specifically for either them or someone they knew. But there'a also a down side to doing a book signing.

What if no one showed up?

It's kind of like doing stand-up comedy. What if no one laughed?

I was contacted by a representative of my publisher, asked if I'd be available on the 15th, and I told him I was. I then asked if any other authors were going to be there. "Nope, just you," he said. 

Okay, I thought...authors do book signings all the time. It'll be fun. Besides, I had FanX and starting my Halloween gig coming up to distract me from the thought of people not showing up. The days passed and finally Saturday arrived.

Time for the big event.

I should say that walking into the store and seeing my book on the table was a very cool thing. I got a blueberry muffin and some orange juice, set up my table, put up my signs with quotes from my friend Marion Jensen, and then waited. 

At first, no one came. I then saw a familiar face, a face I'd known for decades--my cousin stopped by and picked up a book. I took a selfie. Next my family showed up. Since it was Saturday morning, I wasn't sure if they were coming--there's so much to do on Saturdays. They wanted to surprise me and they did.

I was there for three hours. I sold almost as many books as I did during the three days of FanX. Sure, there were times when no one talked to me (even with my signs...) or seemed interested in my book at all. This was what I was worried about. But something interesting happened. 

I look around. Even though I didn't have dozens and dozens of people lined up, nor were there boxes and boxes of books sold, nor did my hand cramp up because I was signing so many books, it hit me. I was in a bookstore and my book was just as accessible as all the other books and I could talk to people about it. At that moment I didn't care if no one was showing up or those other things weren't happening. I was at a book signing, it was my book, and I was the author. The feeling was awesome!

Thanks to everyone who stopped in and said "hi." Thanks to everyone who offered support on social media. Especially, thanks to my wonderful family and friends who have always supported me. You're the best! Now, let's set up another signing! I'm ready to go!

Would I Love To Know...How Dogs Think?

I was in a bookstore today and I found myself next to a magazine rack. There were dozens of titles to choose from, each cover competing for my attention. I'm not any of the magazines's target audience. I can't remember the last time I bought a magazine from a store (or from anywhere else, for that matter...).

But a special edition of Time made me think twice about my "never buying a magazine from a store" philosophy. The title of the edition was:

How Dogs Think - Inside the Canine Mind.

Now, I have no idea what's inside the pages of Time. I don't know what kind of scientific breakthrough has been achieved in the past couple of years. Maybe they're almost at a breakthrough to where we're so so close to not only speaking with dogs, but understanding them as well. Of course, the title doesn't mention anything about communication, only knowing how their brain operates.

Then again, the story might simply include measured guesses by experts in the field. The puppy's cute, the title questioning and engaging. Perhaps that's all they need to move the product.

I know we have a new dog in our house. We think we might know how his brain works. In the thousands of years of recorded history, including the history of humans and dogs, we seem to have communicated and understood each other well enough to live together--for the most part--in harmony. Do we also need to know how their brain works? Seems to me not knowing is a bit of a pain, but also part of the fun.

My Son's FanX Photos...

Last weekend I attended Salt Lake FanX convention. At any given time the first two days, I had one of my sons at the convention. The first son to go with me was my second one. As we drove away from the house he said he forgot his camera. I told him I could loan him mine while he was there.

Tonight, while searching for a blog topic, I ran into several pictures that I didn't take. 

He did.

So, here's a portion of the pictures he took. He took more than I did. I don't know who everyone is supposed to be that he photographed, but he probably does.