|For no particular reason, here is a photo taken at Crater Lake, with a Lumix L1|
To tell you the truth, I have no good idea why I started this blog. Except that at the time, it seemed like it would be a lot of fun, which it is. Even though sometimes Blogger can be kind of a frustrating experience, such as right now I'm trying to figure out how to insert the picture above without having the text jumping around everywhere, but hey, at least I'm learning something new. (Update: you have to get into html mode, and mess with the code - okay!)
Most blogs seem to be about some particular subject, like bicycles or guitars or politics or every last embarrassing detail of someone's life. For whatever reason I've never been an obsessive monomaniac, or an exhibitionist. So if you've seen a post here about some cool old bicycle, and you come back to see another one, alas - you may be disappointed, because I might post my favorite green chile recipe next. Which may possibly give you some insight into my life, but really, it's a fairly uneventful life, with pretty much no juicy details at all. In fact, it's almost what you might call normal, but never boring; mild, yet with a hint of spicy.
I am, however, interested in a few things, and what's worse, I like to mess around with those things. Such as changing components around on a bike, or trying to see how closely I can get a tube amp to the self-destruct point yet still sound good. And some other stuff too, and I'll take a few photos of the process and write about it, and post it here from time to time. Which is probably better than subjecting my family to a slide show of all the pictures I took on our vacation trip. Speaking of which: about that photo above - I've never had, or used photoshop; the sky really is that blue up at Crater Lake.
One thing I should mention is that virtually every word written in this blog is completely my own; any portion lifted from another source will usually be enclosed in quotation marks, and in any case always properly attributed. Also, I stand by any and every thing I've written; often, I will stand on top of parts of it. I am open to critique and correction on any historical or technical points, and I'd really like to hear from anyone who also happens to be interested in any subject posted about here. I've provided a handy email link in the sidebar, for just that purpose. But I should tell you beforehand that I already have all the pharmaceuticals, vinyl siding, and walk-in bathtubs I need.
And if your oh so sensitive sensibilities get offended by anything written here, shall I apologize forthwith? Well, no - and you can just go sod off this directly minute, cullie, and because why? Because any non-liberal or un-gentlemanly tendency in my writing is done for humorous purpose, in course, and if you be too dull witted to smoke the meaning, you should bloody well hie yourselves off, ye verminous poxed parcel of wretched, tail dragging, un-seaworthy sons of idle lee shore-bound lubbers, and go find yer own blog. That, by the way is early 19th century British sailor talk, which I picked up during the Napoleanic wars.
Unlike every other blog out there, there are no social media buttons here, none at all. It's not that I'm anti social media (now there's a concept: anti-social media!); after all, anything that helps people stay in touch with each other has to be, on balance, a good thing. Rather, for me it's about time, or the lack of it; maybe if I spent hours every day commuting into the city, I would try to stay productive via smart phone. Most likely, though, I would just be sitting in a window seat on the train, huddled in a dark wool great coat with the collar turned up, and, like George Smiley, polish my eyeglasses on the fat end of my silk tie, before opening up a Patrick O'Brian book, and losing myself in a long lost world of square-rigged sailing adventure.
A friend was telling a story about going to a big old warehouse that had been shut up for a long time, full of all kinds of cool and interesting old stuff, and I had this image in my head: of poking around a giant spooky dark place with ancient wooden crates and exotic smells everywhere, masses of cobwebs hanging from a ceiling so high it couldn't be seen clearly, little red eyes watching from dusty corners, and only a small flashlight with failing batteries to find treasure, and the way back. In a way, that's what this blog, and life in general, is about, if it's about anything - you never know what we may run into, around that next dusty corner, and if we can shine even a dim light upon it, well, it may turn out to be a lot of fun to find out just what it is. It may be treasure. Then again, it might be a scary monster.