IM MBTA

As any avid reader of this blog (if there actually is such a being) knows, I take the train to and from work every day. It’s pretty much par for the course that from rush hour on, the train is gonna look like hurricane with a goofy name blew through it, replete with a million Metro newspapers, coffee cups, bags, bottles, wrappers, sunflower seed hulls (GROSS), and other assorted flotsam and jetsam.

In order to alleviate the exquisite landfill likeness, the MBTA has employed two methods to combat these superslobs. One is by the train conductor announcing over the PA at each stop to “please remember to take all your personal belongings, coffee cups, and newspapers when exiting the train.”

Right.

The other method is a decal on the inside of the train. First of all, who was commissioned to make these things? It looks as if it were created using IM, for crissakes. Capitalize the first letter in a sentence, people! I took the picture with my phone, so it’s a little unclear. It reads as follows:

your tax dollars pay to clean
this vehicle. please do your
part by removing your
belongings upon departure.
Thank you!

Yeah, okay.

Now here’s the thing. I agree that everyone should leave the train with everything they brought with them. However, if my tax dollars are already paying to clean the vehicle, why should *I* do anything to help? It’s not as if I’ll get a break on my taxes. Hell, they don’t even provide an I Help Clean the T Cars deduction checkbox on the tax return.

When a Focus Group Would Be GOOD.

When I want to feed the coffers of my stagnant intellect, I’ll sometimes listen to a show on public radio called Open Source. It’s hosted by a guy named Christopher Lydon, and like all talk shows, it has its good days as well as bad. I find that it usually falls on this side of boorish, and listening to two people argue for an hour tends to suck the life out you, (often to the point of entertaining a petition to get the previous hour of my life back). There’s the occasional interesting topic that’ll be covered, but usually I’ll just listen to it because I’m just waiting for Eric in the Evening to come on afterwards. My opinion of what is or isn’t interesting radio notwithstanding, my real issue with the show is this: the name.

It’s called Open Source. However, whenever it’s mentioned, no matter who says it, always sounds like Open SORES.

Oh, and today’s photo? It’s a metaphor for bridging communication between cul…bah, who am I kidding. I got more film developed and I liked this one.


It Was 99 Years Ago Today
Aeroplane of Alberto Santos-Dumont takes off on Bagatelle in France and flies 60 meters (200 feet)

99.

Okay, I’ll resist the urge to post about the perilously close potential of my town becoming the next Atlantis because of a certain aged dam. No, instead, I’ve chosen to focus on a different subject involving age (stay with me here).

Anniversaries. They always seem to be marked by round numbers, typically divisible by either five or twenty-five. Whether it’s a business’s inception, death, tragic incident, measure of sobriety, or…oh, marriage, it’s only a big deal at 5, 25, 50, and 100. Frankly, it’s too neat and packaged for me. Too…symmetrical and perfect. So, I’m adding a new feature to the ol’ web log. It’s called “It Was 99 Years Ago Today”, and you have my word that there will NEVER be a Sgt. Pepper, Toto, or Get Smart reference in it.

And, in my never-humble opinion, 99 is a much sexier-looking number than 100.

It Was 99 Years Ago Today

Dr. Lee DeForest perfects the electrical vacuum tube

Go Ahead and Shoot.

Well I’ll be damned. I’ve actually taken up photography.

I come from a family of great photographers. My grandparents were into photography. My father is a great photographer and by osmosis has bestowed the gift of being able to look for the detail in things. My brothers also have a great eye for detail, and it’s evident to me that close up, intricate detail is our shtick.

Now with a family chock full of photo folks, you'd think it'd only be natural that I’d want to pick up the hobby as well. Well, that was never the case. I just figured that my brothers and father are so good at it, how could I or why should I compete?

I had one of those 2AM, lying-in-bed-wide-wake revelations that it doesn’t need to be a competition. My little bro has inspired me to start shooting for no reason other than my own enjoyment. What a most novel idea. So thanks, Terzo.

And of course, this yet another shining example of being five minutes late for something.

I shot my first roll over the weekend. I rather enjoy black and white because to me it often speaks better than color, but that could just be my ignorance talking. I’ll probably change my tune in a week, because as years press on, I’ve discovered that I’m largely full of shit most of the time. Regardless, the photo to the left is one of the better ones from this weekend’s session.

Coming from a family of photographers has afforded me a most abundant set of tools, most importantly knowledge from the best teacher around. Watch this space.

Fluffy Bunnies

Hi there. Been awhile.

‘Twould appear that summer has finally ceased to be (but it had nice plumage!). It ended late, and that’s juuust fine by me. Of course, it also started late, but I shan’t flog that equine any longer.

Interestingly, summer’s cessation was ushered in by a unusually sudden weather change. It’s 50 degrees, super-gray, and raining. In fact, it looks like night time, all the time. It’s positively Transylvanian. According to the last forecast I heard, this über-crappy weather is supposed to last until March 24, 2007 (Doppler radar and computer weather models sure have come a long way).

Perpetual gray is one thing, but I’ve also been taking note that it’s affecting folks in a most unpleasant way. They’re downright surly. Ornery. Poopy, even. Whether they’re driving like they’re trying to avoid a guided missile or just trying to get on the train, there is an ocean of angry scribbles over people’s heads as far as the eye can see. The commuter rail and subway rides this morning were altogether surreal. Everyone was completely silent. There’s usually some banter of one sort or another going on, but I heard nary a peep today. Actually, I liked it. A lot.

You know how in Invasion of the Body Snatchers everyone is just silently plodding along, propelled by some invisible force? Kind of how the Grim Reaper’s gait is often portrayed (gliding, not walking)?

Thy name is Tuesday Morning.