Ah, Slow Mo...But Do We Need Slo-Mo Selfies?

I LOVE the slow motion video function on my phone. My phone is about five years old, but I don't care. I don't use it as much as I could or should, but when I do shoot a video using the slow motion function, I am mesmerized when I play them back and watch what I saw slowed down.

I don't think I'm alone in this, either.

Lately, we've been inundated with ads from the good people at Apple showcasing their latest iPhone feature--the slow motion selfie. But, do we really need this technology? Does our civilization--arguably, the most advanced in the history of mankind--have use for this new function?

Time will tell. 

I do like the ads--don't get me wrong. And, if I'm not mistaken, one of the actors in these ads is a Utahn, Frank Gerrish (I apologize if I'm wrong...). Except, when you do a stop-motion shot of those slo-mos, let's just say, some of those pauses may not be the most flattering.

The other day the snowplow came down the street, and it hit me--why not video this in slow motion?

And so I did.

And so, like me, you can be mesmerized by its awesomeness, too.

Exercising Myself...From The Demonic Pigs

I don't play a lot of video games. Compared to some, I play practically none. We live in a time when some of the most amazing games available are found on our phones, games adults play, games senior citizens play, games even infants play.

I am part of the generation that lived before any video games existed, and by "any," I mean exactly that. Video games didn't exist. The first financially successful game--Pong--was invented int he 1970s. 

I was invented in the 1960s.

Once I got a fully-functioning smartphone, I downloaded several games. Over the years, I've played, and by "played," I mean, addicted to, a few games. The most recent one is an offshoot from the successful Angry Birds line. It's called Angry Birds Blast.

And I played it a lot. So much so, I had it on three devices, my phone, an iPad, and an android tablet. I played it every day, because those of you who play games every day know there's advantages to playing every day. They give you bonuses, and tips, and other ways to help. I took advantage of those helps and tips...

Until one weekend, about a month ago, I stopped. It was a busy weekend, not sure exactly why, but I remember when the time came that I usually played, I didn't have the time. The next day came and, once again, I was doing something else. By the third day, when I did have time to play, I simply didn't. And I haven't played the game since. Today I opened the game for the first time so I could take a screenshot for this post. 

It's funny--I thought I'd miss it more. It was fun, hence, the many months/years of playing, but now that I've stopped, I don't want to go back, not even once.

So, there's now only one game I play on my phone. It's called Jet Ball, a breakout game that was discontinued years ago. I told my wife once that I'd like to find a game I enjoyed as much as Angry Birds Blast, but at the same time, no. I don't. It's just a way to spend time on non-important things. Who knows...maybe another game will come around and I'll once again be addicted. It might be okay, as long as it doesn't have those demonic pigs...

The Things We Do For Dogs...

Yesterday, when we dumped pillows and blankets, and stuff animals on the counter to buy, the woman behind the register looked up and said, "for the dog?"

She'd seen it all before.

We shopped at a thrift store. We buy all (or most...) of the dog's toys at a thrift store. Apparently, we're not the only ones. Yes, we've bought little squeak toys at the pet store--they're not that expensive, but my son's rescued poodle likes the big stuffed animals, the big frogs and the big teddy bears and the big bunnies.

And they don't sell those at pet stores.

The dog chews up the stuff animals, eventually ripping them apart and pulling out their fluffy innards. It's not the fault of the dog--the stuffed animals were built for chubby little human fingers, not sharp adult dog teeth. In a few months, we'll be back, looking for large animals. For some reason, our dog likes green ones the most.

Tonight, I spotted the dog surrounded by his conquered victims. They lay about like slain enemies of war with the dog as the victor.

The things we do for dogs.

Goodnight, Neil...

I copied this picture from a Twitter post. I have no idea who posted it first, or to whom should get the photo credit. And I apologize for not securing permission before I posted it here, but it is a time for reflection, a time for mourning.

I remember seeing a bumper sticker in 1981. It's a memory I can distinctly recall. The bumper sticker said simply, "John Lennon Lives," and my fifteen-year old self thought, "No he doesn't--get over it."

Of course I never told the owner of the car that--I was too sky, and to be honest, it would have been an incredibly rude and inconsiderate thing to say to anyone, let alone someone who loved John Lennon and felt that terrible loss so personally. I don't know who owned that particular car, but I suspect it was a person who grew up and had their formative years in the late 1960s. It wasn't just the man they mourned, but the way the music affected their life.

Those who are left behind, after an artist dies, are left to ponder what that person and their art means to them. And when an artist creates art--or in this case, music--for more than four decades, generations of fans feel the pain.

Neil Peart was more than just one of the best drummers who ever lived. He was a poet, an author, a philosopher--as important and prolific as any author of books, or professor at a university. If he were just a drummer, that would be one thing, but it was all the other things that made him elite, a true genius. And in speaking with friends who actually knew the man personally, Neil was one of the nicest gentlemen ever to lay down a track, or pen a song, or rip a ten-minute drum solo that few if any could best.

Years ago, I was in a band. I played bass. My job was to keep a beat, but not like the drummer. The drummer's job is as important to a song as the heart is to a living organism. Today, the fans lost the heart of what we love, and we'll never be the same. Goodnight, Neil. And thank you for everything.

A Little Piece Of History...

As I grow older, I find it interesting how friends and others talk about and describe their parents. As children turn into adults, the way they see and interact with their parents change. They see things in a whole new perspective. They have the advantage of seeing their parents as human beings, not just those responsible for raising them.

But when a parent passes away when their children are young, the child is left with an empty reality, one that must be built as time goes on. Even though my father passed away just after I turned eight-years old, I was fortunate enough to have others in my life, others who grew up with my dad, and my mother who married him, others who told me stories.

There are stories of the man, a boy born during the depression, who grew up in a broken home, who enlisted for WWII at age eighteen, who was a cop, a security guard, an engineer, and a judge. Still, even with all these stories, I don't know my father the way my friends know and knew theirs. Time gives them an advantage. 

After my mother passed away, my brother and sister-in-law came in possession of some of my father's things, one of which they put on display in their home. My father was an expert marksman, one of the many stories I heard growing up about the man. As a deputy, my father scored a perfect shooting score. I've been told it was the first one ever scored in Idaho, and according to some family members, it could possibly be the first perfect shooting score of anyone west of the Mississippi River.

I'd have to do more research to make sure about that one.

But no matter how significant the score was or wasn't, it's meaningful to me. My father used his shooting skills to feed his brothers during the depression. Imagine counting on a steady hand to eat. We know nothing of that kind of pressure in our day. Due to his skills, he was chosen to be a tail gunner on a B-17 crew in WWII. Once again, it's hard to imagine the bravery it took to do that job.

As the years pass, fewer and fewer are left who even knew my father. The stories of him seem to fade as well. Thankfully, there are those who have taken the time to preserve those little pieces of history.

Happy Birthday Hon!

I've got to admit--this is one of my favorite pictures ever. There's a couple of photos that I just love...the one with my kids sitting in front of our house when our youngest was about a year old. Then the same kids at the same spot a decade or so later. I love a picture of my daughter singing a solo in her first play when she's six, and I love the above picture. We were just pups back then.

My wife doesn't do social media nearly as much as I do. Truth be told, I'd like to do less of it, but the writer side of me sees it as a necessary evil sometimes. Chances are, if you read this blog post or any of my posts, it's because I link this blog on several social media platforms.

Since she doesn't utilize social media, she has not been inundated with birthday wishes. Of course, if she wished to be inundated with birthday wishes, she'd spend more time online. She'd advertise her birthday on Facebook and other places. So, I guess I'm doing that for her (and I hope it's okay...).

Back in 2013 I blogged about her birthday and I included several notable people who shared her birthday, several of which, have passed away in the past seven years. Here's that list again.

Elvis Presley (1935-1977)

Steven Hawking (1942-2018)

David Bowie (1947-2016)

R Kelly 53

Larry Storch 97

Bob Eubanks 82

Soupy Sales (1926-2009)

Charles Osgood 87

Garry Spence 91

Ron Moody 96

Jason Giambi 49

Graham Chapman (1941-1989)

Jose Ferrer (1912-1992)

Gaby Hoffmann 38

Harriet Sansom Harris 65

William Hartnell (1908-1975)

Happy birthday, sweetie! I hope it was a good one.

Ruth MItchell's "Deleted"...It's Available Today!

It was almost two years ago...on my friend's birthday...my debut novel Chaser became available. It's a surreal experience waiting for the day to arrive, then when the day finally arrives, a few keyboard clicks and there it is--the book you wrote, the words you strung together, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, chapter after chapter, until it somehow magically exists.

Like I said, it's a surreal experience.

Today another book came out, a book from the same publisher that chose my book. It's Ruth Mitchell's Deleted and it's available to buy. You can order the book or download it immediately by clicking: HERE. Since it's so new, I haven't read it, obviously, but if you want to know what Deleted is about, here's the synopsis from the Amazon page:

Lucy Campbell is the last person you'd expect to hack minds. The college freshman prefers vintage technology, old books and retro fashion. But when she makes a fool of herself in front of her crush, Marco Han, she wishes she could erase the whole episode from his brilliant mind. She's shocked to learn that her older sister, Mollie, can do just that.

Mollie tells Lucy she's found a way to delete people's memories via Spex, the thought-activated successor to smart phones and Google Glass. Yet, when Mollie breaks into Marco's mind, she decides not to erase any embarrassing moments because he already has a crush on Lucy. Encouraged by her sister's discovery, Lucy stops avoiding Marco. Soon, the two are dating, and Marco, a tech guru in his own right, elevates Mollie's mind hacking from a guilty pleasure to an efficient crime-solving tool.

As the three infiltrate more minds, they realize they're not the only ones who can steal memories. Marco suddenly forgets Lucy; and Mollie forgets that she could ever mind hack. Lucy's mind should be safe because she doesn't wear Spex. But then the mysterious hacker, Nick Lethe, comes after her in person.

Lucy flees to the woods, the only place safe from the surveillance of the ubiquitous Spex. If Nick finds her, he'll erase her memories or worse. If she doesn't find him --and stop him -- no one will know that minds can be hacked and lives rewritten.

We wake up, go to work (most of us...), finish work, come home, go to bed, and do it all over again the next day. If we're lucky, in between the ordinary, something happens that's wonderful, exciting, nerve-wracking, and beautiful. I know how Ruth feels tonight. 

The book sounds amazing. I hope you get a chance to read it. And to Ruth, I hope you have a wonderful sleep after the emotional roller coaster-day you've had.