Ozette

Two summers ago, in August of 2005, my roomates and I went camping in Olympic National Park. We ended up in the Lake Ozette section, which is along the Pacific coast, not up in the mountains.

The camping was unspectacular since we stayed at the rangers station. The lake was all but inaccessible. The coast, though wilderness, was brown and drab. And it rained.

Still, I enjoyed myself. The nine mile loop hike to the coast and back was the highlight of my trip. In particular, I found myself enthralled by, of all things, the boardwalk that led us through the forest. It went for miles and miles, over hills and through meadows, heavy cedar planks worn smooth from all the boots grinding them them down.

I borrowed a camera and took a lot of pictures, some of which I’ve just uploaded to Flickr with the tag “Ozette.” There are also a few of the hidden “factory” I found where the boards are split and moss envelops everything sitting still. It was eerily quiet there, as though I would turn around and see Bigfoot… staring me down.

Why I Love Going to the Dentist

Really, I actually do like, if not love, going to the dentist. Had an appointment today to get some fillings. I knew I would get injections; I knew I would get drilled on. Didn’t bother me. Wanted to go. It just makes me really happy to get problems corrected.

By other people, that is.

What’s nice about the dentist is that I’m either being passively polished and buffed or passively drilled and filled. Care is being taken of my body, whose maintenance is usually my job, while I just lie there. Somebody else, a professional, is doing my bidding.

And I love that.

Happy Monday

Last week in the New York Times science blog, TierneyLab, John Tierney posed the (rhetorical) question ““Why Are These Models Scowling?” then answered himself in “Solved: The Mystery of the Miserable Models”.

Surely you’ve noticed all the frowns on the runways of Paris and Milan. Not that it would surprise anyone, but smiling suggests a desire to please, which subconsciously indicates lower social status. Conversely, “elite” individuals smile less because, essentially, they don’t have to. Thus, models frown to imply higher status for their higher ticket wardrobes.

What I read into that, though, is that someone who smiles at me is flattering me by suggesting that I have a higher status and that he’s eager to please. I’m all for that! Makes me appreciate the smile even more.

In keeping with the theme, this week’s Happy Monday features models, but these ones are smiling.

The old fella in the middle is designer Paul Smith, who has recently designed a fixed gear bike for Mercian Cycles.

See all of my Happy Monday photos at Flickr.

Ten Years in Black and White

Been going through old pictures. Pulled out my box of contact sheets of 120 format black & white photos and scanned them all. Uploaded about 35 images into a set at my Flickr account. They span a little less than a decade of my life, from when I got my sister’s old Yashika 120 camera until I dropped it in the early zeros.

I remember how disappointed I was when I first started getting the film developed that I shot with that particular camera. Nothing was sharp at all. Now I like it; the pictures are hazy — like memories.

I’ve been taking more photos lately with my Yashika. I’m interested to see what I’ll choose as subjects knowing that the results are going to be fuzzy and ambiguous. That sounds a lot like me, though; maybe I’ve found my medium.

See more of my black & white 120 format photos at Flickr.

Tucker Carlson’s Hippy Hair

Ignore the smarmy little bow ties. cable news bully Tucker Carlson’s real fashion statement is his hair. For an arch-conservative dickwad, his tresses are surprisingly sensuous and touchable. Some might even consider them rather un-manly.

Talk around the radical right water cooler is that Carlson’s not really one of them, that he’s not conservative enough. As hard as he is trying to look the part and hide behind those persnickety bow ties, his hair is revealing the truth. It’s long and lush and latently liberal. Sure, maybe he’s really just being a little vain, but I think there’s more to it than that. My guess is that he’s probably a closeted social moderate. To bastardize an old expression, hair is the window of the soul.

I’ve never seen any shows with Carlson, never heard him talk. He’s probably a royal ass. But I’ve seen pictures, and while he’s cute enough in a preppy stereotype kind of way, it’s his wavy mane that got my attention. You see, Tucker and I have exactly the same type of hair, and his coif has been looking exactly how I want mine to, especially lately.

Last night on 30 Rock, Carlson did a very brief cameo, and his hair was looking so fabulous that it made me sit up and take notice. It was like a damn shampoo commercial. So from the neck up, he’s become my fashion role model. Now it’s just a matter of finding a stylist who can help me realize my elusive dream.

The Tina Fey Show

For several years every Saturday night at 12:10 am, right after the musical performace, I used to unmute the TV and begin to pay attention. It was time for Weekend Update with Tina Fey. I mean, however bad Saturday Night Live may have gotten, that particular segment was always a home run. It was so good that I know exactly what time it came on.

Now Tina Fey has her own show called 30 Rock, and it really is “laugh out loud” funny. In fact, all of my housemates make a point of watching, and we all sit in the living room together for at least those thirty minutes every Thursday from 9:30 to 10. It’s the only TV any of us makes a point to catch.

In case you’ve never seen it, the website has complete downloadable episodes. Might as well check it out.

TV night
Okay, well, anybody who’s not busy also tries to catch the other Thursday night comedies. Very imaginatively, we call it “TV night.”