As I mentioned awhile back, I scheduled myself to attend a session of Nikon School this month…and yesterday was the day. It was the epitome of Geekdom (spending the entire day in a darkened hotel conference room with 200+ other photo-nerd types), as we really didn’t talk photography, per se, but rather, all those detailed technical tasks that must be accomplished in the world of digital photography after you snap the shutter. So: we covered the process of downloading the images to the computer; browsing and culling them; organizing them coherently; editing; and, finally, outputting the final product to the web, slideshow, or printer. In case you’re interested, the full set of notes from the day is available here.

Today, I’m feeling like a fully-credentialed Geek. (And I have a Nikon School Certificate to prove it!)

Soundtrack Suggestion

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world’s a sunny day, Oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don’t take my Kodachrome away

(“Kodachrome” – Paul Simon)

Recently I received one of those “chain-letter-type” emails from a friend in Nevada (I was one of 25 who received the mailing); the message contained a series of silly personal questions, with the request that you delete the friend’s answers, fill in your own responses, and then send them out to a whole new series of contacts. I’m still thinking about whether I’m going to subject anybody I know to this exercise, so I haven’t forwarded the letter as of yet. However, one of the questions that got me thinking was: “what do you want to do before you die?”

My Las Vegas compatriot offered up a very good (and succinct) reply: “live.” Now, this is something I’ve been saying since my 30s: I’m going to live until I die. So, I smiled when I saw this answer.

However, that goal is pretty non-specific. It doesn’t say anything, exactly, about what you’re (I’m) going to do, or how you’re (I’m) going to do it. Or when. Or why.

So, how might I respond to this question? And say something that has a tad more meat? Well, I guess I’d offer: I’d like to take about a zillion more photographs.

For over thirty years now, I’ve been more-or-less obsessed with getting out there in the world, a camera hanging around my neck, and snapping away. Even after this much time, having attempted and then moved on from the life of a professional photographer long ago, and having changed the rest of my life, personally and professionally, over and over (and over yet) again, photography is one thing I just can’t let go of. As much as anything, I’d say this passion defines who I am.

Yes, for sure: I’m an academic. After four college degrees, how could that not be the case? I’m a researcher. A writer. A counselor. An administrator. A TechnoMonk. Yes, there are many different labels I could apply to myself, all of them apt.

The thing is, most days I wake up thinking, not about my day job, nor about my consulting work (the activities that pay the bills), but rather about picture-taking and camera equipment.

Weird.

I admit that even my other preoccupations, namely health and chronic-pain issues, are intimately linked to my thoughts about photography. I often describe my art as “wandering-around photography” – which means that I find a setting and simply walk about with my camera, seeking to discover some image that’s there waiting for me.

Obviously, I can’t really engage in such physical activity without a certain level of health. So, the healthier I am, the more I can wander around, and the more I wander around, the more photographs I can make. All the time and energy I throw into maintaining and improving my physical health are really investments to help me find the time and energy to pursue this one true passion.

I’m mystified by the individuals who, upon retiring, eventually seek to return to their former work because they don’t know what to do with themselves. That would never be the case with me. There are not enough hours in the day, not enough days in a lifetime, to do all the things I can imagine doing. I am a high-performer in my day job, but what that activity is really geared to is allowing me to finance the more interesting parts of life.

Yes, I’m going to live until I die. And during that time I’ll be wandering around: with the camera’s viewfinder glued to my left eyeball.

Within these pages, I continue to visit and revisit the themes of our culture’s relationship to cell phones and the general level of noise pollution we’re all subjected to on a daily basis. There are precious few places to go, it seems, to escape and find some peace and quiet.

I suppose part of my personal issue here is that I am a rather quiet guy myself…a quality that happens to go along with my reputation as a good listener. Everyone says so. For example, when we talk, I look you in the eye. And I pay close attention. I don’t interrupt. I strive to really grasp the meaning of what you’re trying to say to me. I ask questions of you to help deepen my understanding. I try not to insert my opinions where they’re inappropriate or unwanted. I really hope I don’t say anything to discount your ideas and/or feelings. And then: I’m just plain silent and attentive while you’re speaking.

Simply put, I’m a highly-skilled active listener. My training as a counselor, years ago now, has served me well in developing and maintaining a healthy set of communication skills. In fact, I have even been characterized as “scary” in this area. A female friend of mine once told me that I likely frighten other women away…since people are generally not very accustomed to being paid attention to so intensely. “Your ability to be present is very rare and actually a little scary,” she said.

Today, in the Sunday edition of the Marin Independent Journal, I found a reprint of an article from the Vallejo Times-Herald. The headline is “Performers Confront Cell Phone Offenders,” and the piece talks about entertainers’ issues with folks who show up to performances (plays, musical events, stand-up comedians, etc.) without turning off their phones. This is, of course, maddening for all concerned. For example, as an actor, how do you continue in your rhythm if a cell phone rings during a dramatic moment of a live on-stage performance?

My question for the day is: how does this very dynamic play out all the time in our own lives? How are we supposed to keep our personal rhythm when all anyone wants to do is pay attention to those electronic devices hanging from their belt, rattling around in their jacket pocket, or buried in their purse?

If we, as human beings, ever had the ability to really pay attention to each other, it seems to have totally evaporated. The article I read today contains a quote from comic Johnny Steele who characterizes this as a “national discourtesy epidemic.”

I absolutely agree. For all our gadgets that supposedly keep us connected, we are, in reality, totally disconnected. I submit that we just do not know how to be present with others: how to be present with just one other person. I believe we’re always paying attention to something else.

I was having dinner the other night with a long-time friend who I hadn’t seen in a few years. I was trying to explain the stresses related to employment changes, and the physical challenges of my life, in recent times. I was unsuccessful in my communication efforts. During the conversation, I needed to halt at one point as the cell phone on his belt apparently vibrated: he held up his finger and then checked a test message that had just come in. And then, while trying to convey my mood and worries about these challenges, the message I got? My feelings don’t really matter: all I need to do is think of all the poor folks in Bangladesh who have it worse than me…and I should perk right up.

Truly, I believe, we’re a disconnected society, unable to care about or pay attention to each other. And I know it’s probably not the fault of cell phones, or TVs or computers. But regarding keeping us connected? They do just the opposite.

This mid-winter season has been a time for a lot of non-holiday news. For example, coming out of the Midwestern and the Eastern U. S. are the results of the recent Iowa caucuses and the debates in New Hampshire. Here in the Bay Area we had a tragedy, on Christmas Day, at the San Francisco Zoo, when a tiger escaped and killed a San Jose teenager. And then police killed the tiger.

As the New Year got started, however, the biggest news here was the weather. Last Thursday, we were visited by the first of a series of impressive storms, and on Friday the most violent one hit us. On that day, there were winds that often approached hurricane force…and lots and lots of rain. Here where I live in the North Bay, we got about 4 inches of precipitation in one day, much in the form of blinding, horizontal rain. It was a little scary, especially when the power went out early on Friday morning at my apartment. And then, there were reports of the San Rafael-Richmond Bridge being closed because the winds were flipping semi trucks over in the middle of the span.

I had no idea when my power might return. There were over half a million of us without power here in the Bay Area, and no estimate for how long we would all have to live this way. Happily, my power was restored by the end of the day Friday. Right now, though, on Sunday morning, the San Francisco Chronicle reports that there are still 50,000 without power in the area.

The photo above is of Corte Madera Creek coursing its way through the College of Marin (Kentfield, CA) campus last Friday. This stream is usually a mere trickle but, on this day, it was a muddy, debris-laden, roaring force of nature.

They say the rains are going to continue, although we’re supposed to be getting things cleaned up and back to normal very soon. This morning, in the parking lot outside Starbuck’s, I talked to two PG&E linemen who asked me for directions! They told me they were here from Bakersfield to help with the devastation.

Here we are, the first day of 2008. And the interesting thing is, for a New Year’s Day, I’m feeing modestly well-rested: at least compared to other January Firsts (or July Fifths, for that matter) in recent memory.

You see, for the past however-many years, I’ve been thoroughly bothered (and kept awake) by my neighbors’ New Year’s Eve antics, especially by their seemingly universal preoccupation with fireworks. During the New Year’s Eves of 1995 through 2006, whether it was Eugene, Portland, or Roseburg; irrespective of my type of residence (house or apartment); and no matter the kind of neighborhood; I was always subjected to the inevitable distraction of fireworks and firecrackers going off outside my bedroom window until well past midnight. (I haven’t stayed up to welcome the New Year in for years.)

The noise, omygod my friends, the NOISE!

But: this year was different! One thing that’s changed is the state where I’m living. So, I started to wonder today if, perhaps, California has some wonderful law that prohibits (unlike Oregon) the widespread sale and distribution of these irritating noisemakers?

YES! It appears to be so! (Click here.)

THANK YOU, California!

And, speaking of California laws, I’m reminded, in today’s San Francisco Chronicle, that we’re getting some new ones here. Effective today, it’s now illegal to smoke in a car with a passenger under the age of 18. And, although we have to wait until July 1 for this next one: it’s going to be illegal on that day, and thereafter, to drive while talking on a cell phone without a hands-free device (and prohibits the behavior entirely for anyone under 18 years old).

Way to go, California!