ON GETTING FAT.....

Getting fat is like wearing out a pair of shoes, one doesn't realize that things are going bad until you blow out the sole.  I have often wondered, observing the 350lb guy stuffing his face in the food court at the mall, how you can let yourself grow to those proportions.  I say to myself, "Don't you wake up one day and look in the mirror and say 'Wow, I'm getting to be a tub of goo.'"  I just had that revelation about a week ago, and instead of buying purple shirts (ever notice how really fat people love purple) and flip-flops, I needed to start taking care of business.
I've been running for a week, eating right and trying to get more sleep.  I'll keep you updated, but so far so good.  I don't want to not want to look in the mirror.  So strap up with me my friends, take a look in the mirror and I'll see you on the sidewalk.

I'll Be In Touch....You Just Stay Over There

This 1999 photograph provided by Chrisitie's shows the Rhine river by German artist Andreas Gursky. Titled "Rhein II," the chromogenic color print face-mounted to acrylic glass was sold for $4.3 million Tuesday, Nov. 8, 2011, at Christie's in New York City, setting a record for any photograph sold at auction. (AP Photo/Christie's, Andreas Gursky)

 

 

Now don't get me wrong, I love art. I get that it can move generations, it can evoke feelings in all of us that we can't describe.  It is invaluable.
That being said...
$4.3 million.  For a photograph.  Of that?
I'm not even going to begin to admit that I see the value.  Tim Bavington's work took some time to grow on me, but now I get it.  The way the paint flows together, the talent it takes to do that.  I get it, now. 
This on the other hand looks like my kid stuck their kodak out the window, driving along the Rhine.  In fact, if I go back through all of my photos when I lived over there, I probably took the same photo.
Jesus, $4.3 million.
The world has gone crazy.
I just saw that a Victoria Secret model was showing a bra that was worth $2.5 million.
It showed a hell of a lot better than this.

Those people are f^&%ing crazy as well.  I'll sell you my underwear with this photo in the crotch for a cool mill.

Have your people call my people.

Have Coffee and Guns, Will Travel

It was a pleasure to go out this morning and put rounds down range with my good friend Jon.  We drove out to a small plot of land outside of Sloan.  Jon brought coffee and I brought smokes.  We both brought guns.  Beautiful guns.  Some old, some new, all like pets to the two of us.  In the early morning sunlight, which glinted off the brass casings of our ammo, we had our own version of 2nd Grade Show and Tell.  I showed my 10-22, 30-30 and .243.  Jon showed me his .223 and his .357 seven-shot revolver.  We were both giddy as we ran out through the desert and placed empty bottles here and there.  We got back to the car, had a smoke and drank our coffee, talking about hunts both past and future. There is nothing better than sharing time such as this with a good friend out in the middle of nowhere.  We donned hearing protection and then the fun really started.  Guns barked, brass flew and glass exploded in brilliant flashes in the sunlight.  We shot.  We chuckled.  We cheered. We reveled in the glory of senseless destruction of glass and dirt.  In the short time we had, our friendship grew a little stronger, bonded with gun smoke and laughter.

Write Every Day...Ugh.

An old sage (Jeff Fisher) once told me that I should write every day, even if I didn't think I had anything to say.  "Sit down and start banging away and before you know it, your brain will give birth to something."
I have gotten away from that advice of late and I am struggling with birthing pains getting back into the groove.  I suppose there is no better place to do it than here. Bang, bang, bang, go the keys and just the sound of them is relaxing to me.  Art is the closest we can get to God.  We create something, where before there was nothing.  Is it always good?  No.  Is it always earth shattering?  No.  Is is necessary?  Yes.  To ignore it is to suppress one of the few things that is positive with humanity.  In these times where there is so much stress, pain and suffering, it is our duty to bring into existence something of beauty.
So, if you are an artist in any capacity, I challenge you to write, draw, paint, sing dance or sculpt everyday.  Can you do it?  Will you?
The gauntlet is on the table.  I would love to hear from you.  Share your work.  Bring a smile to someone today.  Together we can change our world.
I'll keep banging away and hope to find the rhythm.  I'll keep an ear to the ground for the rest of you, out there, in the distance, and hope to hear you picking up your drum and joining in the song.

Daylight Savings Time: A Rebate I Can Use

It has been said that you should value the simple things in life, and on a morning such as this, I must agree.  I am sitting at my kitchen table with a cup of tea and the kids are playing upstairs.  My wife is sleeping in and I have not a worry in the world. 
I am putting some new music into my collection (compliments of the local library) and I am finding a few moments to update my blog (that nobody reads).  The sky is overcast and I am a happy man.
All of this is possible because we set the clocks back an hour this morning and my body doesn't know it, so in essence I got a free hour, to do with what I will.  I am thankful for the little things in life.  I am also thankful for the bigger things in life, that I only really get to focus on during these moments of solitude, when reflection is possible.
I am thankful that I am given the opportunity to have moments of rest.  It is through the hard work I put in every day that I can afford to stop every once in a while to do some mental accounting.  Stress is the bugger that won't let us enjoy the little things in life.  It forces one to constantly look past the moment to an uncertain future, thereby not allowing one to revel in the beauty of a bonus hour added to a quiet morning.

Product Test: Can Your iPhone Swim?

While out fishing on Lake Mead, near Las Vegas, NV, I thought it would be a good time to test the swim capacity of my iPhone.  Now, nowhere on my device does it say that my phone was rated for any certain depth, but it also clearly does NOT state that my phone CAN'T go to any certain depth.

 

In any case, in order to conduct the test thoroughly, I set up certain parameters.  I drank exactly two more beers than I should have.  I was very hot.  I had numerous people phone me on the lake when I was trying to relax, in order to elevate my irritation level.  I then proceeded to jump into the lake from the back of the boat with my phone in my shorts.

This was a spontaneous test of the immersion capacity of said phone, and as I launched myself off the little vessel, attaining flawless cannon ball form, I felt the weight in my pocket and panicked.  Now, I have seen Wile E. Coyote practice the running in air bit, hundreds, if not thousands of times.  I also tested this, and can tell you, I had time to look at the camera, but not hold up a sign before I plunged into the lake.


I did not feel or hear a zap, but somewhere in my wallet I'm sure it happened. 

I immediately exited the lake yelling profanities that would make my Marine Corps daddy blush.  My friends, God bless their little hearts, instantly tried to console me with comments like, "Maybe it didn't get ALL THE WAY wet," and "We'll let it dry on the deck, it'll be ok."  I felt like I was surrounded by politicians telling me everything was going to be ok, while they new I was up the creek. In retrospect, I don't remember anyone actually looking me in the eye while these comments were made. I shall deal with them in good time.

I pushed and prodded and shook the phone in an attempt to free it of it's watery demons.  I felt a glimmer of hope in the fact that nothing poured out of the thing as I held it in the bright sunlight. I waited a few hours before trying to turn it back on.  When I checked on it's progress, I noted the screen had turned an eerie shade of white-- I suppose it was a sign the ghost in the machine had vacated the premises.

Needless to say, my phone was dead.
What to do, what to do?
A stiff bloody mary and my decision was made.


Off to the Apple store...

(To be continued in my next installment)

Whirligig Is Born

Welcome to Whirligig.  Whirligig was conceived based on the concept of the gyroscope.  When not in motion, the gyroscope lists to the side and is an uninteresting device.  When spun, the motion puts everything in balance and the end result is a beautiful creation, fluid and balanced.  The interior of the gyroscope is focused and stable while the outside is a blur.

These days, everything seems to be spinning at a chaotic rate.  Politics, religion, the environment and our daily lives are rotating and this is one man's attempt to stand at the center and focus on what is happening around him.  No topic is out of bounds and no opinion is incorrect.  Please enjoy the posts and realize that we are all standing on a spinning rock hurtling through space.  If we all look around and take less for granted and not be afraid to ask questions of others and ourselves, perhaps we can find that spot that helps us focus on what is important. 

Keep spinning.

J. Adam