The origins of blogging as a sixties photographer · Friday March 28, 2008 by colin newell
When you are between 4 and 7 years old, the siren song of the Christmas tree, the glow of its lights, glitter and glass globules can be irresistible.
And on December 24, 1966 we all opened a gift before midnight… this family ritual we observed since I learned how to talk.
The kids around the Yule would pick out a box based on its smell, or feel or how it sounded when shaken.
And there was nothing particularly fancy about the box I grabbed. It was just more of a feeling… a feeling that would appear more often as I got older… a hunch… a sense of something big on the horizon that was my life so far.
And as I peeled away the cheap wrapping paper, the ink imprinting my fingers with ghost images of a simpler time, a box was revealed… imagine my delight seeing Made in Hong Kong and then an orange box… Diana-F Camera.
My first camera was the classic sixties Diana-F complete with rolls of film, magnesium flash attachment and an instruction booklet.
The Diana’s original all-plastic lens ensured that dreamy, gorgeous, color-drenched, always-blurry, and mind-blowing results were the norm. And behind this cameras cheap viewfinder was a kid who was seeing almost everything in his World for the very first time.
At 16 shots per roll, it was entirely possible to capture valuable portions of ones childhood with a few rolls of Black and White 400ASA 120 roll film – all ironically processed via the neighborhood druggist who would out source it to the closest photo-finisher, who in turn would edit out the more bizarre compositions and often, sadly, return a roll of film with no images but a envelope of cut film – with a druggist who sheepishly explained to yours truly that, perhaps, I had left the lens cap half-off or inadvertently smudged the plastic lens with petroleum jelly.
Which is exactly what our memories look like now – when viewed through the tarnished lens of cerebral memory.
That camera survived a good 3 or 4 years of hard use, shaping and honing my skills as an active amateur photo historian in my little corner of the World on Vancouver Island. By the time I turned 12 and graduated from elementary school I was rewarded for my academic successes with a German made Zeiss Ikon 126 cartridge camera – photo above – In comparison to the all plastic Diana, the Zeiss was staggering in its ability to capture detail – gone were the surreal and impressionist interpretations of my environment… replaced with pin sharp mirror images of a boy’s life on the verge of adolescence. The sixties were over.
Roll up the rim to win in Afghanistan · Thursday March 27, 2008 by colin newell
It is said that you cannot fully appreciate a great cup of coffee if you have never had one – or have been relegated to drinking super-store pre-ground and tinned brown vermiculite… like Folgers.
The same can be said for a great doughnut – and I will wager dollars for, well, you know… that if you have ever had one, you would remember it.
Kind of like your first kiss. When it’s good, it’s really good… and you never forget.
A few years back, Krispy Kreme arrived on our shores – if only briefly. It seemed likely that they would make inroads north of 49… but they didn’t. Thanks to the likes of Tim Horton’s.
And this is not to say that Krispy Kreme is great – because they are not. They are fresh – and like coffee, fresh is very important… whether it’s a cup of joe or a deep fried doughy nugget.
For Canadians, Tim Horton’s is as much a part of our consciousness as hockey, maple syrup, fresh air and wide open spaces.
Except Tim’s is not as good as it once was – and to deny this is an act of unbridled, unpatriotic and truly Un-Canadian self deception.
There was a time when the doughnuts were prepared fresh from fresh ingredients… and darn it, it makes a difference. And yes, I know they make up their sandwiches fresh from fresh ingredients… not sure about the quality of their breads – but that is nitpicking.
And in the last couple of years, they have taken this unholy artifice to battle weary Afghanistan. My god. Tim’s in Afghanistan. This is what Canada’s international role has been reduced to – clogging the arteries of our soldiers no less… and our allies.
Wouldn’t it make more sense to give these puck sized weapons away to the Taliban?
I know. Bad idea. They would hate us even more than they do now.
A few facts about Tim’s outcropping in Khandahar:
The doughs, icings and cremes used in this abbreviated menu of cookies, bagels and 12 kinds of doughnuts, as well as the coffees served in Afghanistan were deployed about 45 days earlier from a plant in Kingston, Ontario – The same depot that also supplies Tim’s franchises across Ontario and Canada.
They also exported the favored Canuck sport of rim-rolling to the dusty plains of Afghanistan. Except the prizes are slightly different…
They include camouflage Tim Horton’s ball caps, GPS global positioning devices and five grand prizes of $1,000.
What, no boots, bullets or sun-block?
As much as I support what Canadians do best:
Exporting peace, good will and maple syrup… and yes, putting on a uniform, climbing on a transport and flying to a hostile place half a World away and getting behind the cause of democracy – do our enlisted men and women not deserve better?
A quick scan through Google reveals that Tim Horton’s cuisine was the most anticipated perk to arrive in advance of best wishes from loved ones at home… so perhaps I am the one off the mark.
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Canadians and Americans - the differences #1 · Wednesday March 26, 2008 by colin newell
Working on a University campus, I am exposed to people from all around the World – and although the visible minorities are, well, more visible… some of the more surprising variations in personalities that I encounter are between my fellow Canadians and Americans…
And I watch a lot of American television and listen to American radio.
And no, I am not saying that Americans are bad and Canadians are good.
I am observing that there are some interesting differences… that in the year 2008 surprise and amuse me.
Example: I was watching a news report on a tornado that had just struck Atlanta, Georgia. You can imagine the chaos… and the obvious damage; overturned cars, shredded trailer parks, malls with their roofs missing.
And yet the stern looking newscaster on FOX assured the viewers that the event was not likely the product of a terrorist attack… and to be diligent… and on guard.
Difference: In Canada we blame La Nina for the snow in March. In the U.S.A. they blame Al-qaeda for cyclonic micro-bursts.
Example: In a hurricane ravaged New Orleans (still undergoing repair), Southern Baptist mullahs blame flagrant homosexuality for God’s wrath unfurling Katrina.
Difference: In Canada we middle-aged men blame gay men for showing us up in the fashion department. There was a time when I was in my 20’s and my 30’s that I thought I was pretty GQ. Not anymore. A Canadian heterosexual man cannot be in his 40’s and on top of the fashion game. So I am not crying about it.
In the U.S.A. people carry hand-guns for protection from each other. In Canada we carry rifles to catch dinner. Subtle difference.
In the U.S.A. drug addiction is a crime and helps fill the U.S. Prison system to overflowing – there are over 2 million Americans in jail… staggering.
In Canada drug addiction, like Alcohol abuse, is a sickness and is treated accordingly. Our prisons are generally well stocked with violent criminals and almost-successful White collar miscreants… businessmen gone bad.
In Canada we celebrate differentiation and multiculturalism. In the U.S.A. the government insists on integration; speak English or go home…
and yet in all my travels around America, I have yet to find an American.
I was in a room full of Americans in Los Angeles one afternoon (and what a horrible place that is!) and they kept referring to each other as The Vietnamese guy, the Italian Guy, the Portuguese guy and so on. Not one Yank to be found.
In Canada, everyone is a Canadian. And we speak all languages.
Subtle differences. Yet profound.
What bugs me about people rant #1 · Wednesday March 26, 2008 by colin newell
Anyone remember a time when Google offered a service for those people so busy that they did not have time to search the net – so they could call up Google… and get an operator on the line… to get someone else, a living person, to find what they were looking for… Naturally, this idea did not last long.
Makes you wonder: Is this one of the main reasons that the Planet is doomed? Or is there another reason?
Discovered this today – note photo above left: If you are way too busy to spend the minute and a half registering for my coffee website, there is a web site you can go to that has a userid and password already created just for you!
Uh-huh. And how screwed up is this?
I deleted the userid and password that was created for my website.
If only to screw with these lazy people. I mean, if you are going to visit the CoffeeCrew website, I have certain expectations…
And speaking of lazy. My favorite story is the one about the lady who contacted me from Southern California (and what a horrible place that is!) – She sent me a list consisting of question after question about coffee basics… all of which is on my website about one click or two away from the main page.
But no.
She was too busy.
And so I asked: “All of this is on the website. Why don’t you look it up?”
And she replied: “I am way too busy to spend anytime reading your website!”
It begs the question: How do stupid people survive? Is there an army of sympathetic people out there that have pity on the lazy and stupid people… kind of carrying them along… day by day. Or is it just a case of random chance? Everyone survives despite an assumption of a more logical outcome? Who knows?
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