Falling: The Rough Cut

Here's the first experiment I did with the "falling" effect.

Trip to Ridgefield, Washington

Today Greg and I went up to the wildlife refuge in Ridgefield, Washington ("Birthplace of U-HAUL"). I took a lot of photos, but only a few are good. Here's probably the best one, of what I think may be a Rough-legged Hawk:


There were lots of birds today, and I saw many interesting ones, including a flock of Golden-crowned Sparrows (the most I'd ever seen at once), a Red-headed Sapsucker, a Red-throated Loon, a Red-shouldered Hawk, Tundra Swans, a Merlin, some Harriers, Great Blue Herons, Red-winged Blackbirds, Yellow-rumped Warblers, a nutria, Coots and Shovelers galore -- and even a few Tree Swallows, here in February.

Then there was a weird human story. On the path toward the blind we noticed the memorial stone for David Dynes was upturned:


This is what it says on the plaque:


Inside the blind, this was written on the wall:


It says "D. Dynes was a child molester who hung himself because I wouldn't let him forget what he did to his students. Swing in hell, Mr. Dynes."

There were many bald eagles there today also, at least two adults and four juveniles. Through Greg's scope we got a great view of an adult, and I stuck my camera up there to see if I could get a shot. Not bad:

Movie Tricks

Cleo and Bowie

We have joined the album cover craze.

Driving Action!

Smoked Paprika

Yesterday Iris and I went to the video store as part of her planned Bring It On afternoon. She was having friends over to watch those movies and to maybe also watch a Heath Ledger movie (or two).

Alas -- and of course -- the video store was all out of Heath Ledger movies. And the only Bring It On movies were the second and fourth ones. Until yesterday I thought there were only two of those movies.

Even Fred Meyer's electronics section didn't have what we wanted. But I did find a used DVD of Paprika, an animated feature I've heard nothing but good things about.

And PAPRIKA has played a large part in my life lately. At the end of last year the local paper's food section printed a "best of the year" article. I don't read the food section of the paper all that often. I'd link to the paper right now, but their web site is frustratingly difficult to navigate. As a public service, I won't send you there.

Among the best 2007 best recipes was something with "smoked paprika." It sounded good. I'd never seen smoked paprika for sale, and I shop at both 7/11 and Plaid Pantry.

I went to the internets to see where in Portland I could buy the stuff. Most of the results were from fancy-schmancy Portland restaurants -- menu items featuring smoked paprika. "It's the spice of the year!" I told my wife, in between rants about how stupid things are and why I'm smarter than everyone else except her.

I asked my pal Greg, owner of the Corbett Fish House, and yeah, he'd heard of it, but didn't know where to get it. We both looked around at exotic-type spice stores (in my case, the nearby Mexican grocery and the nearby Caribbean spice grocery). A week later Greg ordered some from the internet tubes.

He gave me a pound of it this week. My first thought was to roast some potatoes with it, so I walked to Trader Joe's and endured that crowd.

But lately I've been making pastes with the mortar and pestle for Thai-style foods, and, well... I made a paste with the smoked paprika and prepped some vegetables. But I ended up sticking it in the fridge and doing something completely different for dinner. Golly, the paprika vegetables smell good, though.

Smoked paprika had become some plate-o-shrimp thing. And here it is a month later, I have some in the house, and I still haven't tried it.

This morning Amy and Cleo and I went over to the Hawthorne district. Cleo shopped for a birthday present, while we went to Powell's to spend a gift card. We first stopped at Pastaworks. We bought some cheese. On the spice shelf they sold smoked paprika... but now I don't need any, do I?

And one of the cheeses we bought? We got home and discovered it was covered in... smoked paprika!

I Call This One "My Conscience"

Falling Iris

Falling, Not Flying

Luna and Iris

Jumble from the Archives

Who2 Anniversary

Saturday was the celebration of the tenth anniversary of Who2. We went online in the first part of 1998, or so says part-time company archivist Fritz Holznagel.

We gathered for lunch at Pazzo's, the restaurant below the Vintage Plaza hotel, where we were all staying. Ryan and Julie came in from Cincinatti, Hans and his son Clifton came in from Cleveland, Mike Duffy in from whatever the hell town in Texas, and Adam and Jenny from Portland -- like us. The five Who2 fellows met at lunch to talk. The family members huddled in a wet corner on the street, I guess.

It was the first time all of us had been in the same room. It was the first time I'd met Mike Duffy, with whom I've worked for six or seven years now. It was a great time.

Dinner that evening at Mamma Mia's downtown was swell, another good time and way too much food. A nightcap at the hotel bar finished up the evening. It was fun and full of good feelings.

Basement Reorganized

My old office:

The new Rec Room (formerly my office):

Stepping down into the basement:

The New Office

We switched the rooms around in the basement. We put my office back in the southwest corner, and moved the PC/Playstation stuff to the southeast corner. Now my office is about half the size it used to be, but the PC/Playstation area is nice and big (about 18' x 12'). I'll see if I can dig up some comparison photos. In the meantime, here's what my office looks like:

Past, Stab, etc.

We cleaned out and reorganized the basement over the weekend. A lot of ugly stuff turned up, including this ID card from when I was a junior in high school in California. I like how it says it's not a student body card.

I must not have met the requirements for one of those.

Religious Radio Message

A person must live "an uncompromising life" to be a "person of character" or a "person of integrity" -- as God intended.

That was today's message on Grace To You, a radio show I sometimes listen to on 93.9 FM (KPDQ). They told about Daniel in the lion's den, and how important it is to do "whatever it takes" for the God you believe in. That's what makes a godly person, they said.

(Ironic that a program with the word "grace" in the title would emphasize good works as a way to get to god, but that's theology, that troublesome interloper with whom sermonizing holds no truck.)

Like so many of those shows on KPDQ, Grace To You makes me wonder if they ever listen to themselves. They condemn people of other faiths for doing weird things in the name of that god, then turn right around and preach about an "uncompromising" life to please this god.

I know, I know, they'd say "it's different... we mean the one true God and they mean that fakey god."

Ironic, You Bet

From a 1967 Mad.

Balmy and Clod

We watched Bonnie And Clyde the other night. Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway are pretty good lookin' in that movie. There's a lot of shootin'. But Clyde doesn't do enough as far as Bonnie's concerned. This snippet from the 1967 MAD magazine satire (which I still own) says it all:

Good Ol' Boy

Amy says "Imagine the smell."