Shoe of the Week

I know I know...it's unforgivable there are no blog entries between the shoes of two weeks. Slaps hand. School starts next week. Will be back on the blogboard.

Meanwhile: Yes.

I wonder what socks one would wear with these.

Shoe of the Week

I'm thinking a grading system fo Shoe of the Week.

YES!
Yes
No
NO!

Pretty simple I reckon.


No

Of course, I don't mind the shoes but my No is based solely (LOL did you see what I did there?) on whether I would wear them.

Jetstar...well, you still suck

I was sure I was on to a sure fire winner blog subject when we fronted up to Jetstar only to find that Nicholas "won't be flying today".

Now, I'm figuring almost everyone in New Zealand, and possibly the whole Asia-Pacific region, has a Jetstar horror story. Ours potentially was a good one, too, but upon further research, it's not such a horror story (for reasons that will become apparent), but there's still enough culpability on the part of Jetstar to write it up anyway.

When we first heard Nicholas was flying Jetstar back to Wellington I suggested we be ready for a delay or a cancellation, so famous is their inefficiency. Read any Stuff story about Jetstar and the horror stories come flying in the comments section.

So, flight still operating and, surprisingly, on time, we front up to check in. "What High School do you go to, Nick?" "Haven't started High School, yet. But will be starting next week." "Sorry, but you can't fly today, then."

What?

The ticket's booked. In his name. Date of birth stated. So our immediate question was how could he be booked to fly, but unable to fly? No answer to that, except to acknowledge it is a glitch in the system and given an email address to complain to. Perhaps, she said, if enough people complain about it the hole in the system will be closed. Thanks. Doesn't help us right now.

She offered two alternatives. Someone fly with him now and return... for a price, of course. Or try another airline. By which she meant Air New Zealand (have Pacific Blue abandoned the NZ route yet?)

Jetstar girl, bordering on polite, speaks to Nick's father in Wellington.

So, we ended up booking him on Air New Zealand, who have clear policies on unaccompanied children, and all was good. Relatively speaking.

Of course, we wondered how he could be booked on a flight, online, without some sort of flag coming up about his age. Come to find out (without wanting to indict Nick's dad, we did not do the booking) there is a pretty clear link to the restrictions right there in the booking window on the Jetstar website.

Damn! Can't really have a rant about Jetstar except to say that a flag on the date of birth would solve a lot of angst on what, accordng to the almost-polite Jetstar girl, is a common problem.

However, it's common knowledge that Jetstar sucks anyway. On that basis I would never book with them.

Bit of a cynical rant

What's most frustrating is that this is only one story of many similar stories, both in our city and all over this "beautiful" country.

The pathetic weakness of the human body notwithstanding, how come our welfare state will hand out thousands/millions of dollars to lazy, useless, anti-social layabouts who, to supplement their time at the trough, rob dairies, break into cars, and steal christmas presents, but the Coull family has to struggle on one (probably small) salary and fundraisers held by friends?

Somehow it seems incongruous that my tax dollars, hard earned, will subsidise gang headquarters and the methamphetamine trade, but the Coulls are suffering under the strain of trying to feed their kids and get used to the idea that dad might soon be gone.

If it were allowed, I would feel angry about it. But we're not allowed to be ANGRY anymore. Have you noticed how being ANGRY if frowned upon? The people you would expect to show some ANGER at their particular slice of society - politicians, the religious leaders, doctors, mayors, judges - never show ANGER. Anybody who is ANGRY about anything is quickly closed down. Sorry, you can't talk like that now. We're civilised here.

There is still such a thing as righteous anger.

I know nothing about the Coull family, except what's in the article, but I suspect they are examples of the most undesirable of statistics - white, middle class, employed, mortgaged, uninsured (health) and off the radar of any real help from the government.

What scares me the most - in a bout of selfishness - there but for the grace of god go i. These people are fighting on, and so are the people with the brain tumour who are selling the carrot on TradeMe. I feel I would simply shrivel and give up.

I feel for the Coulls.

Go on...send them some money...I know you want to.

Shoe of the Week

I will NOT be using the word FETISH (except in the tags to get traffic!). However, this feature is something we've enjoyed for ages. Every week when we got the SUNDAY Magazine, the Shoe of the Week page was one of the first things we looked at. And rated. Yes or No. Completely subjective.

So, I will endeavour to follow the Shoe of the Week here, and I'd be very interested in your thoughts, Yes or No, and feel free to justify your choice, especially if you disagree with me.

This week's shoe: YES

meanwhile...

There's no way in a million years I would do this, however, I would LOVE to try it.

There was some stick-up-the-bum cop on the radio a minute ago whining about how dangerous it is, as if the guys doing it were unaware of the danger. The danger is probably why they do it!

I guess we should (sigh) be aware of the possibility it's dangerous to innocent people, but, you know....WHO CARES!!! Driving or walking in Chrsitchurch (and Manners Mall apparently) is dangerous.

And very clever editing, check out the videographer's broken and bandaged leg (17 sceonds in). Great cameo.

And they're wearing helmets. Good safety concerns guys! You rock!

FIRE!!!!!

The freedom of speech v. the freedom of expression. Are they the same?

Blog coming (hehe - after I've finished editing photos)

Freedom of "Speech"

This subject was on my to do list, but of course it's not exactly a small subject to address. So let me preface it but confessing that I am one of the minority who voted yes on this Herald poll. I'd be interested in hearing your views, which I may then address in a blog post in which I'd like to explore this subject a little deeper.

YouTube

I started out thinking about Sting and how I don't do concerts, but if I did do concerts Sting is one act I wouldn't mind going to see, and as he's coming to Christchurch in February I thought I would offer my services to photograph the event as the establishment organising said event is one that I have done photos for on a couple of occasions.

(Yes, I'm aware that's a very long sentence)

Anyway. I figured I'd just head on over to YouTube and grab a vid of Gordon to embed here. Have you ever tried to look for just one video on Youtube? It's impossible! You cannot do it. Sure it's easy finding one video; but it's impossible to stick with just one. There are those enticing titles in the sidebar and you think, Hey, that looks interesting, I'll just have a quick look at that video, then head back to the Roxanne. But then in the sidebar of the next video there are more enticing titles and interesting looking grabs. So you think, just one more. But they each open in the same window so it's not long until you're, like, 20 videos away from the original one you looked at.

So, you just start the search again and there he is, Sting at Live Aid (is it just me or did he seem to tank at Live Aid?). But then, oooh... what's that in the sidebar? I'll just check that out quickly.

YouTube is like a rabbit warren. There are diversions everywhere and if you're not careful you can go from the Goo Goo Dolls to videos of moms' reactions to that video (you know the one I mean) in five clicks or less. What? How did I get here?

So I finally got back to Sting, embedded it here, only, for all YouTube's power and diversity I couldn't find the video of my favourite Sting song so went with this one, which is almost as cool.


Oh...and isn't this really cool?


Except... I'm not convinced they're actually playin it!

7th and Main

I liked U2 before they were popular. I'm not sure why I feel the need to say that, except to suggest there's something noble about "liking" something on its merits rather than joining the bandwagon later on and liking them just because everyone else likes them.

Is U2 the greatest band ever? Same line-up now for five decades. Well, 35 years, but five decades sounds more impressive. Same line-up since 1976, and as far as I know they've never "broken up" then reformed. They're not engaged in come-back tours... they're still touring and making new music.

In a cleverly designed intersection of the two themes I'm exploring this year, one of my favourite U2 songs is Where the Streets Have No Name. I've always loved how so many U2 songs are driven by the drums and lead guitar. Sunday Bloody Sunday is probably one of the greatest songs ever.


The critically acclaimed song, Streets, and its Grammy Award winning video are spine tingling. It's easy to think this was the only song played on that rooftop, but apparently they played 8 songs, including Pride (In the Name of Love) another of my fave U2 songs, not only because of it's link to Martin Luther King, but also for its haunting guitar riffs.

I've said before I don't think I'm very cool. So for me, the whole 7th and Main video shoot is JUST. SO. COOL. There's something about it that encapsulates something really cool. It's inspiring. It's electrifying. And how awesome would it be to have been there and witnessed it?

Megan Hartley introduced me to U2... no idea when. 1980? Where are you now, Megan? Looking back, I thought she was a cool person. A free spirit. Pretty. Sexy. Bohemian. So maybe there's a subconscious attachment to U2 that's a bit about her.

Nevertheless, 7th and Main, 27th of March, 1987. It was as much a protest (in true U2 style) as a video shoot. One of the goals was to close down the streets and to piss off the police. They succeeded in both. That rebel element has a coolness of its own.

There's also something groundbreaking to it (even tho the concept was nothing like original - is anything truly original?).

I've always thought it would be cool to be famous, for example a famous musician, and to just turn up somewhere unannounced and do your thing. Imagine if you're in a little cafe somewhere downtown next month and Sting walks in, grabs a guitar, and belts out a few songs while sipping a latte. How cool would that be? Unfortunately, it would probably turn into a circus.

7th and Main, down town LA, 27th of March 1987. One of my top ten places I'd like to have been in history.

No post today...

Sorry faithful followers (LOL)... what a busy few days. Since having our car broken in to... don't get me started... and having to drive to Akaroa with no driver's window, in the rain (well, okay, it was a light mist), and Nicholas arriving today from Wellington for 12 days... phew!

How bout some photos instead?



After a photoshoot in Merivale recently (a bit x-rated so you may not get to see any of those! Oops...TMI) I decided since I was half way there, why not head out to the Waimak and catch the sunset. So I got there about 630 thinking the sun should be setting by about 730ish. Wrong. This pic was taken about 930 (despite what the timestamp says on Flickr), so there was a lot of standing around waiting for the sun to drop. But I got some good snaps and will put some up on Flickr next week.


And speaking of Akaroa, I spent the day there when I dropped Chris and his friends off, so I took a few snaps. I wasn't as impressed with Akaroa as I thought I would be, but I got some nice photos, which I will also put up on Flickr over the coming week/s.

Now, this may be a bit naughty, but I thought I might give you a preview of the photoshoot I did at Godley Head which culminated in having our car broken in to. I picked one of the photos to edit that I really liked. I hope Tracey doesn't mind me posting it here.


I'd love to know what you think of this photo. I'm still learning the craft of good portraits, and, remembering how incredibly fragile I am, I'd appreciate some/any feedback on this pic.

Now, off to the airport to get Nick.

Facebook to Face

There was an article in The Star (7/1/11), “Facebook status: Addicted!”

Keeping in mind it’s The Star, it’s not a bad piece. According to it, half of NZers have a Facebook profile, half of those check it daily, and 1 in 10 claim to be “addicted” to it.

Made me think.

I think claiming to be “addicted” to something has become a bit of a buzz word. As a society we are “addicted” to many things, according to the contemporary definition. We’re addicted to cars; we’re addicted to easy communication – just witness the chaos when the XT network goes down. Or the wireless modem disconnects. We’re addicted to latte.

But are we “addicted”? I suggest someone in rehab trying to kick a heroin problem might feel aggrieved at having that label hijacked. Even someone trying to kick smoking might feel hard done by.

If checking Facebook six times a day equals “addiction” I’d better head off to the CapriTrust now. What if you can’t quantify how many times you “check Facebook”? What if you’re on Facebook every waking moment you’re online? What if you have messages and notifications sent to your cell phone when you’re not near your computer? If checking it 6 times a day is “addicted”, I’m in serious trouble.

Truth is “addicted” has always been a vague thing when it comes to non-physical habits. It’s easy to define an addiction to booze, cigarettes, or (other) mind-altering drugs. A bit harder to define addiction to the other things: gambling, sex, shopping, Twitter.

Two things struck me on the back of the Star article. First, I’ve been suffering friend-envy. I’ve been thinking that because I only have something like 50-80 “friends” on Facebook, clearly I’m anti-social and nobody likes me. Further, if I were cool, I’d have lots of Facebook friends. I don’t. Therefore, I’m not cool. Can’t fault that logic – if P then Q. Not P. Therefore not Q (but feel free to challenge the premise).

However, it seems (according to the article) roughly 50% of us have less than a hundred or so “friends”. And I’ve also comforted myself with one of my favourite quotes (which, yes, is listed as one of my favourite quotes in my Facebook profile): there are people one knows, and people one doesn’t. We shouldn’t cheapen the former by feigning intimacy with the latter.

I’m proud to say that of my 70 friends on Facebook, I have not met in person only 7 of them. Of those 7, one is an “online” connection I’ve had for 13 years; 5 are “professional” contacts with whom I have had considerable online communication, and will undoubtedly meet in person one day; and 1 is a recent contact with whom I’m engaging in online communication, but will probably never meet in person (based on a quirky past coincidence – vague, I know but it’s a long story).

So, I’m happy to know I’m not feigning intimacy with a whole bunch of people I have no clue about, which to me is preferable to being able to say I have a thousand friends but haven't actually met 850 of them. Which segues nicely into the second thing that struck me with regard to the Star article.

It’s an interesting phenomenon when you “meet” someone online (but not in person yet), whether it’s via a dating website or some other method, perhaps someone contacts you via email or your website. You exchange pleasantries, and then you add them of Facebook. You check their profile. You check out their photos, their “likes” and their wall. You feel a bit like a stalker. You follow them. You begin to get a sense of what they’re like, what they’re about. You discover what they think about certain things, how they interact with their real-life friends (which is a very loaded concept); you see what language they use and how their grammar and spelling is. Sometimes you see them at their lowest; sometimes you see what kind of drunk they are (angry, morose or silly).

But then, you begin to make judgments about them. You discover intimate details about them. You interact with them via chat and private message. You make and change plans. You exchange ideas.

And you begin to feel as if you know them.

Which are all the hallmarks of a relationship of old (pre-Internet). Only. You haven’t met in person!

And that’s when it can get tricky. Because when you finally meet them in person, sometimes you go … huh? You’re not the person I “know” from Facebook. You’re completely different. You don’t look anything like your photo/s. You’re voice isn’t at all what I imagined it would be like. You’re speaking a different language. And that accent!

What’s really annoying is when you really feel connected online, and have wonderful conversations and exchange delicious emails/messages (and I don’t necessarily mean romantic ones, I just mean significant, meaningful ones). And then, when you meet in person, you have nothing to say to each other. Or the “professional” relationship is strained because the online chemistry is not present.

What’s that about?

We’re different online than we are in person, aren’t we? I think that’s been established unequivocally. The reasons for which are many. Ten years ago I figured there was a book in it. Now there are many, and none of them mine!

Thankfully I have no such issues with my 70 Facebook friends, although of the few I have not met I do wonder about the nature of how we will get on in person (sorry if you’re one of them and reading this). More often than not I have been pleasantly surprised with how okay the real-life relationship is over the online one. Of the 63 I have met in person, ten started as online contacts. Of those ten I can honestly say, that, while “meeting” has sometimes been a bit awkward, generally that awkwardness has dissipated quickly. But also, to be fair, those connections have been more professional than personal. But all ten I consider real-life friends (not that we’re out socialising frequently or anything, but when I am in their company I enjoy them).

And add to that list a few online contacts I have then met IRL who are part of the 49.7 % of NZers who are not on Facebook. And of course, quite a few over the years that I no longer have any contact with.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences on and of Facebook relationships.

your fish will... what?

I may be shooting myself in the foot by confessing there may not be a blog entry in this. The thought, though, is kinda stuck in no-man's land... it's too big for a facebook post, but (probably) too small for a blog post. I'm not sure what's in between those two. Maybe a tumblr post, but, as you will notice (if you instinctively click links just because they're there - in which case I have some Nigerian friends who would like your contact details) I haven't actually posted anything at tumblr.

Anyway, we were in a well-known pet factory yesterday (yessss...getting a £*&%@&% kitten, o yay, but don't get me started on that!) and I saw a sign, which for several reasons made me chuckle.

Now, I enjoy advertising when it's done well. I still don't think I buy into it, but the experts would disagree. They would say that when I reach for those "specials" at the end of the supermarket aisle I do so, not because I actually need/want that product, but because it is placed eye-height, there's soft, soothing music playing, there are no clocks in my vision, and there is the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air-conditioning system.

I don't know. I just thought we needed weet-bix. Go figure.

So, when I saw this yesterday, I thought O.M.G. What?

I realise advertising/marketing's number one target is the emotions. And if you're in the pet factory business, appealing to people's emotional attachment to their pets is gold! But come on. A funny photo of a cute little puppy is one thing. A kitten mid-antic is a sure winner. Even a parrot who can swear like a sailor in three languages is right up there in cute-value.

But..."your fish will love these"??? Who came up with that little gem? It's one thing to anthropomorphise a Schnauzer (who demonstrably has some modicum of emotional facility); it's a whole other thing to ascribe to a fish the loftiest of human capacity. Your fish will love these? Yeah right.

Your fish will swim past it and before it's out of eye-sight have forgotten it. At least, I guess, it will be a whole new exciting experience for fishy on the return journey from the far side of the bowl to see anew the characters from one of the most popular fish movies of all time. But in saying that I may be undermining my own argument and have fallen into the trap so cleverly designed by the "your fish will love these" people!

Fish (apparently) have a memory-span of about 3 seconds. Only slightly shorter than my 6 year old, but in my most generous moments I reckon Joshua has more capacity to "love" than your average goldfish. Of course, I could be wrong there.

So, and no offense to stupid people, but surely only the most stupid would be pulled in by this most basic attempts to appeal to the emotions. Oohhh...wouldn't little Guppylicious just LOVE that? Let's get it for him. Huh? Can we? Huh?

Good grief. I may have been sucked into buying weet-bix with fake bread smells and clockless warehouses, but I'm pretty sure even I could resist this "your fish will love these" ploy!

let freedom ring

Another "theme" I want to weave into my blog this year is something I might call great moments in history. It's completely subjective. I'm sure there are teams of historians debating what are the actual "greatest" moments in history. In thumbing my nose at them out of pure jealousy because at university I studied religion (instead of what my heart was telling me to study - history), I'm going to highlight some very cool events of the past that for some reason resonate with me.

There are many. Some I would like to have witnessed; some I did witness (I'll get to reincarnation and cosmology in the future).

I feel compelled to start in Washington, August 28, 1963 (I was a month old...). Martin Luther King Jr. stood in front of 200,000 people and delivered what has been adjudged the most powerful and influential speech of the 20th Century. It has been dubbed the "i have a dream" speech but I heard a whisper that King himself said that if it should be dubbed anything it should be the "let freedom ring" speech ("i have a dream" features nine times and focuses on the man; "let freedom ring" features ten times - plus two close variations - and focuses on the issue).

Here's a link to the speech.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs (many Youtube versions have been deleted due to copyright, so let's see how long this one lasts)

It's 17 minutes 28 seconds long, but if you give it 17 minutes of your life, and really listen, I promise it will be worth it. I thought that at nearly eleven million views on Youtube (a whole heap of which are mine - and I have the speech on my phone and iPod) it would be doing well in terms of most views. However, that honourable distinction goes to...justin beiber. OMG. If any evidence were required to prove the inanity of so much of human interest, that's it. But I digress.

MLK's speech was a feat of "mastery and magic" that "persuasively articulated the american dream within the context of the civil rights struggle" (University of Wisconsin-Madison). For the average joe, and especially the average joe african-american, it ROCKED!

As far as speeches go there are none better, and I wonder what speeches topped the list in previous centuries - geez, isn't the Internet wonderful? I just googled it and TIME magazine has Socrates at the top of all time rhetoric, with which I may tend to agree. But TIME has King behind JFK. That's clearly wrong if only on the basis that Kennedy's plum-in-the-mouth Mass. accent was horribly annoying. Anyway, another digression.

I don't see Barack Obama on the list. In the liberal, pro-Obama no-matter-what-because-he's-black school his "oratory" has frequently been compared to King's. OMG. Are you kidding me? I think one of the all time DUD speeches was Obama's inaugural speech. I got up early to watch it, and depsite my doubts (given some of Obama's previous speeches) I had hoped his writers would rise to the challenge of addressing over a billion people and give Obama something to say worthy of the audience. What a flop.

I have previously compared Obama's speech pattern to Captain Kirk's of Starship Enterprise fame. He speaks with. Punctuated timing. Designed, no doubt. To. Create emphasis and higlight. His. Main points. But especially in that he. Fails. Miserably. Better stick to. Playing basketball and. Throwing a frisbee. For his. Dog.

Obama's inauguration speech was one of the greatest disappointments of the 20th Century. Second only to his presidency so far.

What would this administration have done with King? Oranges and lemons, really, but I do wonder where America would be now if the CIA (or the FBI) had not killed King (and the Kennedys). Would little black boys and black girls have joined hands with little white boys and white girls? Would the Alabama governor (didn't he get shot in harlem? or maryland somewhere?) now have his lips dripping with the words of political correctness and restitution?

I've met some of the viscious racists "down in Alabama". They're still there, alive and kicking, glorying in the continued subjugation of King's brothers and sisters.

The "let freedom ring" speech changed America, and therefore the world. What would it be like to have been in that crowd?

What crowd in history would you like to have been in?

A Cool Change

Does everyone have songs that in a significant way attach them to their past?

When I was about ten I had a t-shirt (that I’m pretty sure was an op shop special – my mother was the Queen of op shops) which read on the front: Orange Music – the Voice of the World. Now, at the time and even to this day I have no clue what “orange” music is/was, so over the decades in my mind I’ve dropped the orange bit, and discovered that music is indeed the voice of the world. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say it is the voice of the universe.

“Music is the soul’s primitive and primary speech” (Allan Bloom), and in order to “take the spiritual temperature of an individual or a society”, Plato suggests one should check out the music.

I am firmly in the school which says “popular music” has seriously undermined the integrity of human civilisation. It’s part of a catalogue of things that have contributed to the degradation we are faced with every day in the news and on the Internet at which we continually, and naively, shake our collective head and ask how did we ever come to this?

The contradiction for me, however, is that I have bought into it hook, line and sinker. I was born in the sixties by which time popular music was so indelibly entrenched (is that redundant?) in the human psyche that it was inevitable I be born addicted. TV was boring; movies were expensive; books were for the elite; but music… music was everywhere, and free to the masses 24/7 on the radio and on the record player (free to me because my parents and siblings were well addicted before I arrived).

Music touches something deep and alogon within us. We know it, but more significantly advertisers know it and music industry entrepreneurs (musicians and executives alike) know it.

It is their agenda we have unwittingly become the prime movers of. At one level we have made music industry icons incredibly rich; at another level we have handed over what should be the most precious parts of ourselves and bought into a lifestyle, even a psychology that is ultimately more destructive to us than wars, famines, terrorism, cancers or pollution could ever be.

Now, all this (and more in the future) is said to introduce, and preface, one of several themes I want to introduce in my blog this year. The theme is far less lofty than the philosophy that underpins it.

When I asked if everyone has songs (music) that attach them to their past, it was mostly rhetorical. I'm (almost) sure they do. We pinpoint times in our lives, people we’ve loved and mourn, special moments with tunes that instantly transport us back in time. Music reaches into the recesses of our soul and reminds us of what is ultimately most important to us (even if we don't recognise it as such).

So, in the spirit of online journaling (of old?) and shameless self-revelation (the point of blogging), one of the themes I want to address in my blog are those special moments, times, and people in the recesses of my soul and the songs/music that touch them.

What I would love more is to hear your thoughts on the matter, and what songs touch your soul and why.

To kick off I thought I’d go to summer of 1989. We were cruising I-65 with the skyline of Nashville, Tennessee in the distance before us, and Cool Change came on the radio.



I’d heard it many many times before, but at this particular instant I heard it in a way I had never heard it before. Suddenly it seemed to be talking to me at a much deeper level, and telling me it was indeed time for a change. And all the better if the change could result in a “cooler” me…or at least, someone I could feel better about.

I’m not sure it worked. Things have certainly changed, but I’m not even close to being cooler (but that’s a whole other revelation). But every time I hear the song (it’s on my iPod – which, Allan Bloom and probably Plato, would say is evidence of my complete destruction) it’s as if I’m back in that car on I-65 with two of the (then) dearest people to me and I am resolved to make in my life a Cool Change.

january three

My wife will attest that I get annoyed at small, inanimate objects. She maintains it is the result of some deep, unexpressed rage I feel at the universe. I reckon it's attached to my deep disappointment that human civilisation is incredibly fragile, even frail. After hundreds of millions of years of evolution (if you buy into that premise), the universe - including humanity - really doesn't work very well.

Case in point. Cold Power. All of human civilisation and its achievements (or lack of) can be summed up in the example of this Cold Power box.

I have opened many of these boxes. We go through ... ummm, one a month? Six weeks? So, over the years, and since this particular design of box came out, I can honestly lay claim to having opened enough of them to consider myself very experienced at it.

And lest I be accused of picking on Cold Power, I have to say that other brands of washing detergent use the same design of box. And, lest I be further accused of picking on the washing detergent industry, I am happy to indict other industries, for example the cereal box industry, among others.

In my many years of opening these boxes, whether washing detergent, cereal, or, for example, tomato sauce refill boxes, I have yet to successfully open one of them according to the manufacturer's instructions.

I've ripped slowly; I've ripped fast; I've carefully slid my finger along the inside of the perforations; I've grabbed the "lid" and yanked; I've ripped it from the opposite end. Never once have I succeeded in opening a Cold power box so that the entire "tab" rips off smoothly creating a perfectly "re-closable lid". Never once have any of these boxes lived up to their simplistic promise - that pulling the tab will, in fact, open the box.

Now, before you side with my wife and adjudge me an angry old man, in my defense it simply disappoints me that after a couple million years of human evolution (if you buy that, too), the best minds in the universe can't make a cardboard box that opens easily every time. Is that expecting too much? Is that too lofty a goal for gurus in the box-making industry?

And don't get me started on the recent trend of encasing anything and everything from small plastic toys to barbeques in vacuum shrink-wrapped industrial strength plastic that is double-welded at the edges.

Is there an underground school of designers whose raison d'etre is to make packaging more and more difficult and complex? Is it some evil executive's practical joke?

So (Jackie et al), getting annoyed by the Cold Power box's intrinsic inefficiency has less to do with repressed rage than a heartfelt disappointment in human civilisation.

january one

there’s something cathartic about writing a blog post on january the first, especially if you haven’t written a blog post for a while. is it kind of twee to note that this in no way constitutes the result of a new year’s resolution?

however, in the spirit of a new year’s resolutionesque mindset, i thought i might put on record a list of things i’d like to accomplish in 2011. please feel free to hold me accountable for any of these three hundred and sixty six days from now.

in no particular order, i’d like to… no, i will :

start, and feel good about, writing a classic novel

sort and edit the four thousand or so photos i have waiting to be edited in my “to be edited” folder (to be fair, only about a thousand need “editing”)

throw myself into my wordies’ project, a photographic/literary expose

put celia to bed. or in the bin.

reconnect with my wife.

take the perfect photo

blog more

get more involved in my son’s school, and help rebuild it after 4/9

write more meaningfully and not care whether it’s read or not

spend two years living at walden pond (okay, that one’s a stretch)

use as few capital letters as is literarily acceptable

take some half decent photos

write the several articles i have ideas for in my mind.

offer said articles to real publishers, and feel better about calling myself a writer

hug more

tomorrow, this list will have evolved. it may have even desolved. these things, however, have been fermenting in my mind and if i don’t make them a reality i’m going to go nuts, or at the very least be more pissed off.

several people have suggested 2010 sucked, and i can see their point. but for some reason i feel deeply satisfied with how my 2010 went, and despite numerous lows and turns on the roller-coaster, right now i feel excited about 2011. one of my failings, however, is an ability to be tossed about by every wind of calamity and personality. i need to be more solid. i need to be more confident in my ability and my purpose. i need to take charge of my own destiny (if it's not too late).