A Few Photographs...Ten Year's Old

I guess the latest social media rage is finding a picture a decade old and posted next to a picture of yourself in the present day. And I fell for the immense pressure of the latest fad and posted a couple of pictures.

Thanks to the miracle that is Facebook, it time stamps every photo you've that's ever been posted on their site. While I was looking back at the pictures I noticed they were posted exactly ten years ago today, January 19th, 2009. In fact, the picture of my son and I was the first picture I ever posted to Facebook.

Back then, my son--who was four at the time--liked to sit with me and fool around with the Photo Booth feature on my MacBook Pro. We did that for years. And because everything can be saved and memory is so cheap, I've kept all those pictures my son and I took over the years.

Speaking of pictures, another picture that was date-stamped 1/19/09 on Facebook was a photo of my family the day we all took the Frontrunner for the first time. I believe it was the last family photo we've had taken, and it was not shot by a professional photographer, but a stranger to whom we handed a camera and asked them to take a picture of us all together.

I've taken tens of thousands of photographs since 2009. I wonder if I'll ever go back and look at them all. Maybe one day, but probably not.

Checking Out Today's Sky...

We are in the winter stormy season. Storms blow in and blow out. A few days ago we had several inches of snow--last night we had a skiff. A huge storm hit California earlier this week and we're feeling the effects now.

Like most places, we have interesting weather. In winters we get inversions, cold smoggy skies where all the pollution is trapped in the cold air. It's not the best, but after a storm, all the gunk and junk in the air is gone. That's what we all saw today, a pollution-free sky.

I just had to take some pictures.

Here's some of what I saw:

Yes, it was a day to look up and just enjoy.

Enjoy.

The Writing Group...Writes Again!

I admit, I have not been the best writing group member for the past year. In fact, I haven't been the best writing member for several years. Part of the reason is because I have been involved in several theater productions--I'm averaging between 1 - 2 shows a year. And since a show usually lasts three months, I end up missing sometimes almost half a year of writing group meetings.

Last week, we all gathered and resumed the tradition.

Of course, the rest of the group has been continuing the tradition all along. They're swapping stories, giving suggestions in kind, yet helpful ways, and enjoying each other's company. I was not there. Attending brought back some good memories. The only thing I didn't do was provide pages to be critiqued. I know, I know, it's something I need to do.

I don't know about your writing groups, but I doubt you have a mascot. We've got one--Lucy the dog. She's wonderful. She'll come and go, obviously enjoying some stories more than others. She'll take refuge under a desk, or at the feet of a participant. She's always entertaining, always unpredictable.

It's good to be back.My goal going forward--have material on which to be judged...by human and dog.

Then Incredible...Almost Unbelievable Story Of John Scott

I have, on occasion when I feel justified in doing so, recommended a podcast to those who follow this blog. But, it's not often I recommend a specific podcast episode. I'm doing that now.

When you listen to a lot of podcast, sometimes they can all blend into one big steam of words and thoughts and feelings. I've listened to NPR's Radiolab out of WNYC Studios for years. I like the "less bells-and-whistles" approach they have, and their subject matter is diverse and interesting. I had no idea what I was about to hear today when I pushed the PLAY button on the podcast entitled: The Punchline. 

I just wasn't prepared.

I don't follow hockey much, except for the play-offs. I could, and I probably should. There's just as much drama, emotion, raw talent found in the NHL (and the farm teams...) as there is in the NBA, NFL, and college sports. So, when the podcast began talking about a story from the NHL, I thought it might be interesting. 

It was way more than that.

It chronicled a story worthy of Hollywood.

I'd never heard of John Scott. He wasn't the best player on any team he played for. According to the story, he had a skill, if you're not born with, you'll never get--shear size. A 6' 8" player he found his way into the NHL because of size and intimidation. For those more familiar with John, I apologize I'm not doing his story justice.

I'm not going to tell you what happens to John Scott and his family here. I really want you to download the podcast and listen to John's story. You can access the story from their website by clicking: HERE. From the pictures I've posted I've given away the ending, but his journey more than makes up for any spoilers. 

I've written several stories, short and longer. I've even written several screenplays. This story, if made into a movie, has all the elements to make what happened to John Scott both on his way to the 2016 NHL All-Star game and the game itself, an amazing sports film. I hope one day someone makes that movie. It's a story worth telling, and one definitely worth hearing.

The Misty Grays Of Winter...

We're in the thick of it, the misty grays of winter. They roll in every year. They make the cold days colder, and for those who love and worship the sun, the separation can be excruciating. 

There's peace in the mist, a stillness as if the clouds lower just to give rest to everything below. Sounds are dampened just like the light of the sun...it's filtered, smoothed, muted. The humidity surrounds you, it covers everything, encases all it touches in a frozen cocoon waiting for warmth to make it disappear.

Venturing out into the haze can be problematic. It clogs the lungs, limits visibility, and leaves surfaces slick with ice. It's as if nature warns us to stay inside, light a fire, and warm up chocolate in a mug. If you're lucky, you've got someone with you to enjoy the "hyggeligt" night.

As with all things, the misty grays of winter are temporary. Soon the earth will move, its tilt allowing the sun to warm the ground and the air above it. The mists will disappear like ghosts in the night. The sun worshipers will rejoice and those who love the cold will lament the passing. But all will know that if you wait long enough, the misty grays of winter will return. They always do.

The Bulova Accutron 2181 Turning Fork Men's Watch...

Last year my father-in-law passed away. I blogged about it at the time. I also blogged about some items I inherited after he passed.

Watches.

I was given my wife's father's watches.

There were half a dozen of them. You can check out the blog post: HERE. Most were of the wind-up variety, but a couple required batteries to run, a fairly new Seiko, and a vintage Bulova. I'd seen the Bulova at my in-laws's house several times. To be honest, I didn't know anything about the watch until my mother-in-law, for a Christmas present, gave it to me again. This time it ran beautifully.

I've collected several watches over the years--not so many now. The ones I really like don't require batteries, and they're harder to come by. But I knew nothing of the Accutron models. What I've learned about them, after doing a little research, is fascinating.

Here's some information about the watches from a website:

While a mechanical watch uses a mainspring and a balance wheel, Bulova came up with a battery that makes a tuning fork vibrate – the tuning fork replaces the balance wheel as a regulator, powered by electromagnets attached to a battery-powered transistor circuit. The vibrations of the tuning fork are impossible to see – the Accutron’s frequency is 360Hz; later models from other brands vibrated at even higher frequencies. The mechanism is very small compared to a conventional watch mechanism, and is virtually invisible. A tooth of the ratchet wheel measures 0.025 mm in width and 0.01 mm in height. The wheel itself has a diameter of 2.4 mm and carries 300 teeth. The material used here is beryllium copper, which can be easily milled, especially in such miniscule size ranges.

A tuning fork--are you kidding me? Who'd have thunk it?

I guess smarter people than me. You can access the website: HERE.

My wife remembers her father wearing the watch and listening to it hum--you can actually hear the hum when you hold it up to your ear...no "tick-tock," just hum. It's very cool!

I have several favorites out of all the watches I've collected--most used to belong to my dad. Over time those watches have stopped working. No wonder since many are over seventy years old. But I'll be adding a new watch to my favorites, a Bulova Accurton 2181 watch with a 14K gold-filled case and a tuning fork inside making it all run smoothly. 

Very cool, indeed!

Apparently...All Good Things Must Come To An End

It was that kind of day, the kind of day you spend resting, resting from the previous week, resting to re-charge to take on the upcoming week, resting just to rest. It's also the kind of day when you may meander about the house and find yourself in the kitchen looking for a little nibble of food to satisfy that  hunger that can only be satisfied by something sugary. It's what the Danes call lækker sulton, which roughly translated mean, "hungry for something delicious."

It's also the kind of day, because of the time of the year, when your search for something delicious and loaded with calories is unsuccessful. All the yummy treats we've come to rely on during the holidays are gone...all gone. 

Of course, we've done it to ourselves. We've trained our bodies--and minds--in a short period of time to expect treats whenever we want. They're just waiting for us in the kitchen, in the fridge, in the freezer, to snatch them up and gobble them down. And I think it's even subconscious--even when we're not thinking about snacks our bodies are and that's what they want.

Last year and this year we bought one of those big tins of Danish butter cookies (even thought I'm not 100% sure they're made in Denmark...). You open them up and you're not sure just how many layers of deliciousness there are inside. Is it four, or maybe five? Well, there's only one way to find out.

And so we do. We  dig into the tin, remove the empty paper cups that once held several cookies and causally toss the cup into the bin. After all, there's lots more.

And then, there's not so much more.

But, that's okay, because we still have cookies and some other holiday offerings here and there. Time goes by and the six people living in house do damage to the cache of cookies--no matter how many were in the tin to begin with, they're no match for five adults and one teenager. 

Now, the cookies are gone and only the tin remains. We went shopping Saturday and I found a package of Ghirardelli Holiday Baking Peppermint Chunks sold only during the holiday season. I bought them and now they're my last remnant of the goodness that previously spread lovingly over the entire kitchen counter but are now just a delicious memory of the season that once was.

Proof that all good things must come to an end...

At least, until next fall.