Some things which are obvious to some, are not obvious to others.
You would think that would be obvious to everyone, but…
Some things which are obvious to some, are not obvious to others.
You would think that would be obvious to everyone, but…
Refuse the absurd.
Of all my accomplishments that might (or might not) be worthy of celebration, the one that gets the most attention is surviving another trip around the sun.
That might sound bitter, but honestly, it’s not.
:)
From the Daily Bulletin:
The Federal Reserve will issue new rules next week aimed at protecting home buyers from dubious lending practices, its most sweeping response to the housing crisis.
In other news, the Federal Department of Closing Barn Doors will be implementing sweeping new policies to ensure compliance, and the FBI will be gearing up for a 2012 investigation focusing on a large number of reports of missing horses.
Shots from the 2008 Tampa Bay Classic are being posted to the site.
Originally this show wasn’t on the list. It’s a traditionally large show, and one which can run long, plus it’s not far from Ian so it’s practically guaranteed that the show will have photo coverage.
And yet some positive things about the show kept nagging me. I recalled the high-powered lighting, and the gorgeous blue background, and the seating that allows for decent shooting angles if you arrive early (and one huckster actually tried to talk me out of my seat this year, but that’s a story for another time).
I also recalled that the promoter strongly prefers for the bodybuilders to do at least a shortened version of their routine at the prejudging. That makes life a very great deal easier for me, as I’m certain to see each competitor at least twice: anyone I miss during their routine, I can pick up in the comparisons.
About halfway down, somewhere near where the Florida Turnpike meets I-75, I had an epiphany.
It was obvious in retrospect. Good epiphanies usually are.
I had been trying to choose which shows to attend to based on parameters like driving distance and calendar dates– aspects that were actually pretty irrelevant to the quality of the shots I get.
I realized that, if I’m going to lever my happy carcass out of a comfy bed at zero-dark-thirty in the morning (or fork over a day’s wages to a legalized pirate trolloping hotel rooms if I want to stage locally the night before), drive one to three hours to get to the show, unload another wad of cash for gas, parking, meals, admission, and miscellaneous, drive one to three hours to get back home, then spend *another* four hours of my life editing and posting the photos…
… if I’m going to go through all that, then, quite simply, I want to go to shows where I can take good photos.
Period.
It doesn’t make sense to do this any other way.
I’m happy that I went to the Tampa show this year. I hope you’ll enjoy the shots too.
As the price of crude oil hovers near $135 a barrel, it’s time for a big reality check.
A 42-gallon barrel of oil yields around 20 gallons of gasoline— worth about $85 on the street, which price you’ll never see because it includes processing, delivery, retail fees, and taxes. So in theory, if you own a barrel of oil, you’re already fifty bucks in the hole.
From a less theoretical standpoint, what would you *actually* have? A four-foot, hundred-pound metal tube of goo. It isn’t worth $135. If you had one cluttering up your garage, you’d happily slip somebody twenty bucks to haul it off. If you had twenty-five barrels in your home, you couldn’t live there.
The avoidance of true ownership responsibilities is what allows speculation to flourish, so that’s how you deal with speculators: Attach a virtual “bungee cord” to the end product.
Anything you own for more than, say, five days– you’d better be prepared to accept delivery. And there’s some nice fellas from the EPA here to check out the storage site in your living room.
From an article in the Associated Press:
Spanish becoming Miami’s primary language
MIAMI – Melissa Green’s mother spoke Spanish, but she never learned – her father forbid it. Today, that’s a frequent problem in this city where the English-speaking population is outnumbered.
Given this example of a professional author’s misuse of the verb “forbid” (past tense being “forbade” or “forbad”) and professional editors’ failure to catch or correct the problem, I guess we should just be happy that *some* language is still being taught *somewhere*.