PET PEEVES

These things bother me.

The word fusion when used to describe a restaurant. I really don't get it. Asian-fusion? Asian...fused with what? Asian could be fused with alot of things.

People who drive in the left lane on interstate highways the entire time. It's for passing, and you wonder why the truckers cut you off then go 45 miles an hour. 

Dane Cook and Ryan Seacrest.

When you ask someone a question and they say um..............

......

......

wait what?

Crocs. I know you all agree, they're for gardening and doctors.

When the little plastic things on the end of shoelaces peel off. 

People who say they are gonna move to another country if so & so gets elected. Especially this year. Patriotism mean anything to you? That goes for both sides.

CAPS LOCK and sticky keys on PCs. I held shift for 5 seconds because I was thinking. And clicked cancel. Yet sticky keys still turned on?

Intolerance. People who can't just let people be the way they are...have no business being the way they are. How hard is it or you to fathom that someone is different than you? 

If you are over the age of 40 (that was a generous number choice), your shirt should in no way remember a tattoo. No graphic prints. I don't care how many wives you've had. Still not cool. Doesn't even look good on 20-somethings, what makes you think it would look good on your decaying ass? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vum3qgoh0x4 . HOW DID THIS HAPPEN

SNORING. Since day 1. I remember the first time I slept (didnt sleep) in the same room as my dad. 

Lakers fans. And Yankee fans. 

Lemme hear em. I love hearing peoples pet peeves because theyre usually hilarious.

Another One

comment on KDC's blog about registering for classes...at least trying to.

Commentarooni

I commented on Small Town Girl's blog about broken stuff in the dorms and how we all have to pay for it.

Hunter

My weapon of choice is a complementary metal oxide semiconductor. Just over 10,000 of them actually. And I am deadly with them. Give me light and I can make war. Or love. Or laughter. Or sadness. That’s the power of the 20 ounces of metal, plastic, and circuit board slung around my neck. It may be the single most impactful invention in history with the exception of gunpowder, although the two aren’t mutually exclusive. What I do is shoot. I shoot a lot. The more I shoot, the better chance I have of getting what I want. I shoot people, animals, landscapes, buildings, events, athletes. I almost always hit my target. And I have never hurt a soul with my weapon. When I take aim, I make sure that my target isn’t right in the center of my crosshairs. It makes things more interesting that way. I don’t segregate. I shoot black & white, color. Sometimes I even change colors. I take pictures.

I like it because it’s the ultimate in using what you have. I don’t create anything. I’m not an artist. I’m a trapper. I spend hours hunting, shooting, missing, but if I come home with one truly capture I have succeeded. The hunt is half of the fun. I adhere to simple rules, all I really have to do is make a few adjustments, aim, and fire, but capturing what you want to convey is nearly impossible. I love it, however, because it can be done. People have made interesting photos out of a glass of water and a piece of white paper. It is an art. But we are not artists, we are hunters.

Something amazing happened in the ancient roman coliseum. I was looking at an old decrepit column, and I realized what I was doing. I was thinking about pictures that I could take. This is when I first realized that photography was a part of me. I realized that with my ten thousand complementary metal oxide semiconductors I could make something. Not make something, but take something. I loved it because I wasn’t making art, I was taking art and making it my own. The art was already there. I hunt art. I chase it down and I shoot it. I am a photographer; I am a hunter.

Check out my trophies from the hunt. (click it)

A New Appreciation

I wrote this a few weeks ago and wasn't sure if I wanted to post it. I decided to.

My great grandfather died a few weeks ago. He was 94 years old.

 

He lived through the great depression.

 

He fought in WWII.

 

He was a functional alcoholic for a good portion of his life.

 

He had to bury 2 of his own children and 2 wives.

 

He was the most grateful person I have ever met.  I don’t know if it was the hard times that made him appreciate life so much, but he had a unique way of realizing how much each day really meant and how much of a gift all the people in our lives really are.

 

He may have been the single funniest, most loving man I have ever met. There is something about seeing a 90+ year old man crack jokes that never gets old. I don’t know if it was the delivery, or maybe how he said words that started with w-h. H-whisky. H-when. I don’t think he understood the whole silent H thing. He moved like a tortoise, but he was so quick-witted he could have held the stage with anyone.

 

He has seen so much of the world, most of it this side of 80 years old too. He and his first wife Eula, hiked the Grand Canyon together…and they were oooooooold. He traveled Europe, old. He went to Peru, old.

 

I only knew him as old. But I remember thinking he was a titan. When my brother and I were little, he would wrestle both of us in his back yard. Until the day he died, he kept the best garden I have ever seen. Never say you don’t like a vegetable until you’ve tried it out of Grandad’s garden. He built a rocking horse when I was born, it is in my dads house to this very day. I’m 18, so he was at least 76 when he did all this. Old.

 

And when I think about it, I know so little about him. I have heard about maybe 4 months of his life before I was born if you add it all up.

 

He used to be young.  Who knows what he has done? This is the part where I think about what could have and should have been.

 

I’m the first man in my family to not go into the military, which never seemed strange until now.

 

Have you ever seen a book that you really wanted to read but didn’t ever get to it? Go read it.

 

Love You Granddad