The Egg

Railroad Telephone Pole

Chrissy took this one.

That's it for a while....Happy Holidays.

Ruins

FridgeHenge

I heard this was destroyed in 2007.

Doorway

Powerhouse

Stairs

The Shallow End

Bridge

Ukrainian Cemetery

Lovers

Tree

Lamp

State Hospital, Middletown, NY

I'm just going to post some pictures

Maybe one a day for a while...until I get bored.

Snow In Middletown

Just a little update

After five rolls of film I have decided to give Snapfish the heave-ho as far as film processing goes.

For experimentation's sake I took a roll to the local camera store (Monells in Newburgh) and had them develop and print it.

The difference was mind blowing.

Snapfish's work looks dull, flat, and lifeless when compared to work done by a place that actually seems to know what they are doing. Also, Snapfish managed to badly scratch three out of five sets of negatives...twice doing so to pictures that might have been very nice otherwise. That shit pisses me off.

Soooo....if either one of you had any desire to start using film again, learn from my experience and avoid Snapfish at all costs.

I made me a picture.

So....I developed my first two rolls of film today.

It's surprisingly easy. I used to help my dad in the darkroom when I was just a wee lad so I sort of knew what to expect and wasn't suprised at the stank-ass odor of the chemicals. Of course color chemicals are 100 times worse and when I worked in the camera shop I made the mistake of sniffing a bottle of something or other and spent the next 10 minutes choking and wiping the discharge from every mucous membrane in my head off of my face.

Ok, enough about that.


Here is one of the pics...shot on Fomapan 100 with my now broken Pentax ME. I scanned one roll and I learned how to remove the funky purple cast the pics in my last post had by using some photo editing software.

Long live film.

(This is a shot of the Nashville Parthenon, by the way)

Some early attempts

Ok, just got back from Nashville, TN.

I was looking forward to shooting a butt load of pics on this trip but my camera broke on Monday right after I shot two rolls of black and white film. I did procure a back up camera of sorts and shot a roll of color film on it...that will get sent off to Snapfish today.

I will attempt to develop the two rolls of black and white myself and then scan the negatives.

In the meantime, here are some shots from the September Brimfield Antiques Show....I scanned these on Sunday.

Click image for full size




















I need to tweak the scanner settings a bit, but I think they're ok for a first try.


We'll see how the developing goes.


Stay tuned for medium format pics as well.

Shooting on Film

Lately I've been having a torrid love affair with late 1970's Japanese technology. Specifically stereos and cameras. Thanks to eBay, Craigslist, and their cousins, I have discovered that it is now possible to own many of the most expensive and desirable systems of stereo's "Golden Age" and many of the cameras I remember from TV advertising are still available and are now ridiculously cheap.

Sure new advances have left these objects behind in terms of features, but they were built to a standard that has ensured their continued usefulness to those who appreciate them. At the risk of sounding like a cranky old dickhead I've got to say that they truly don't make 'em like they used to. The stereos will still blow the windows out and the cameras (and more importantly the lenses) still do exactly what they did when they were new.

Quality.



Ironically, it was an internet site devoted to making prints of digital photographs that started me along a path that led me back to film. Snapfish (this is not an endorsement) will develop your film, post your photos online, and send you the prints and negatives for 5 bucks a roll. Learning this got me thinking "Hey..the average schmuck can still use film cameras and get their pics online without wasting half their life scanning them!" I also thought "Hey, I'M an average schmuck!"

This intrigued me...especially since digital cameras have basically killed my wife and my careers as snapshot photographers.

Once upon a time we took lots and lots of pictures. Back in the late 80's I worked at a one hour photo lab and enjoyed all of the free photo processing I wanted. My wife, who is actually a talented photographer, took tons of pics with a point and shoot that happened to be a great camera.

Then we both grew up, I got a real job, the camera broke, and we went digital.

At first, it seemed like the greatest thing in the world. See your pics instantly and save money by not printing the shitty ones.

Then we learned what shutter lag was. Shutter lag is the difference between a smile and a grimace. The difference between everyone looking at the camera and everyone breaking the pose and going to sit down at the dinner table. Shutter lag is the mother of missed photographic opportunity.

We also learned that once you buy paper and ink for your photo printer, you've spent a ton of money to produce shitty prints that stick together, look weird, and are less than half as good than the ones we got at the drugstore or the good old Fotomat. Remember the one in the Orange Plaza parking lot? Maybe it was the Caldor parking lot. Whatever.


I realize printers and cameras are much better now than they were when we first went digital, but it took finally going with a Digital SLR to eliminate shutter lag and I refuse to buy another printer when professionally printed pics cost like 9 or 10 cents each.

So...I decided that while the wife was finally taking pictures again and enjoying her new DSLR I'd drag Dad's old Pentax K1000 out of the attic and see what I could do with it.


This thing was the family camera when I was growing up. Fully manual and probably totally intimidating to anyone who'd never seen or used one. I had gained the most rudimentary understanding of its workings when I was a kid so I felt pretty confident that I could make pictures with it.



After my initial amazement upon finding that the battery in it still worked I loaded it with film and took it to my sister's house.


I shot two rolls of my niece and then embarked on a nostalgia trip that's still gong on.

Ahhh memories. Waiting for the film to be developed, wondering if any good shots came out, wondering if the camera even worked.



It did, and when the pics were available I was struck by one thing. They looked OLD.

Why wouldn't they?

Same old camera, same old film, same old level of expertise behind the lens....all the elements of a photo created in 1980 were there.

It was cool.

I like the way film pictures look.

In an age when most cameras make it almost impossible for just about anyone to take a picture that is technically lacking I think the imperfections in these pictures have a definite charm.

I've been inspired to not only attempt to master the technical aspects of proper exposure and operation of older cameras, but to study the quantifiable aspects of what makes a good photograph good.

Maybe I'll even post some pictures here.

I realize that last time I told you to stay tuned I failed to deliver and I totally owe you at least one more restaurant review so here it is:


Applebee's fucking sucks. Don't ever go there.


C-ya.

Back To The Earth: End of Season Report

So, while I was away from here, blissfully not blogging or bending my brain into any funny shapes I spent the better part of late 2008 and most of 2009 planning, designing, and executing a project that resulted in my wife and I having our very own vegetable garden. (As evidenced by the pics below)

I grew up in a family of avid gardeners and as a child I spent many a long hour processing the bounty that came from a rectangular garden dad had planted near our swimming pool. Family memories of our garden and times spent there have pretty much devolved into discussions of the slave labor my sister and I engaged in while running a green bean "Frencher". Probably invented by Tourquemada, this little thing would cut big fat beans that we waited too long to pick into tasty slivers of garden goodness for as long as the big brother cranked the handle and the little sister fed beans into the chute. I don't remember exactly how long these bean slicing sessions lasted, but my best estimate is around 12 to 13 hours each.

Truly horrible.


Still...many years have passed since then and last Fall I suddenly found myself willing to embark on a journey to grow my own food just like my family has for generations. When I say generations, I mean at least two. Farther back than that and I have no idea where the hell they my ancestors got their food. Maybe they farmed goats or shot up their own grub in the woods....it's all very sketchy. Plus, the economy shitting the bed like a kid with measles left me feeling like I needed to do something to take control of my own destiny. Growing food seemed like a good way to start.


It took me weeks of research and decision making before I settled on the raised bed/make your own dirt method espoused by Mel Bartholomew in his book Square Foot Gardening. Realizing that the soil around our house is basically useless for growing anything but ugly weeds and to improve it in any substantial way would take years, I opted to fill my beds with store bought ingredients guaranteed by Mel to make my gardening life easy and productive.

I assembled the beds, filled them with my soil ingredients, and then since I did this in late February I waited.

Waited for the ground to thaw enough for fence posts and waited until I could transplant the seedlings I had started indoors to my new super awesome mini farm.


Things started happening in April, when I planted seeds, seedlings, hopes, dreams, there was probably some cat shit in there too since these things were like huge litter boxes and the fence didn't go up until the middle of the month.

I was pretty darned proud of myself when I saw those plants that I cared for and nurtured rise from the ground like so many green little children. It was like I WAS THEIR DAD! Only this dad was going to kill and eat them and enjoy the shit out of it.

Then the rabbits came and ate just about everything before I could.

All I could think to myself was "Beatrix Potter, you lying bitch...the real hero was Mr. McGregor!"

A pellet gun and Coast Guard rifle training took care of Peter Rabbit and three of his brothers. My children were avenged.


Garden 2009 was happening again and things grew pretty well until the chipmunks showed up.

I don't know why they always show these little shits with cheeks full of nuts or whatever, because as far as I can tell all they do is eat lettuce, eat cabbage, and scatter newly planted seeds all over the place.

In fact, they are the reason I am writing this now instead of right after picking the last of the Brussels sprouts in November.

I despise them.

They didn't eat everything though and we enjoyed zucchini until the vine borers killed them, tomatoes until the blight killed them, and cucumbers until God knows what killed them.

We got enough cabbage to make about 10 or 15 pounds of sauerkraut and the peppers have done very nicely.


All in all I do not feel like I failed, but we did not get anywhere near the amount of food I expected to get when the garden first started growing in my head nearly a year ago.

I truly had visions of legions of mason jars filled with all kinds of garden delights stacked on my basement shelves and couldn't wait to crack open a jar of homemade pickles.

I guess we'll have to settle for 5 or 6 jars of sauerkraut.


The bottom line here is that pests were the main problem I faced. I think I had managed to glean many gardening basics as a kid and my parents were very helpful throughout the summer. It was also nice to have a rainy year where our travel (read that as neglect) did not result in an under watered garden dying a slow ugly death. Mel's dirt mix also proved to be a stellar substitute for plain old dirt and since you never till it it will save me a ton of work next spring.


I realize that for the same amount of money (and much less effort) I could have shopped the farmers' market all summer long and probably brought home more and better vegetables, but next year this bitch is going to really start paying for itself.

Once I solve the chipmunk problem and slightly modify what I plant, I think we'll be French cutting mounds of green beans by next July.

Another Picture

Looks like the answer to how the camera will do in more challenging light situations is "Not quite as well"

Chrissy snapped this pic on the Salesian property at around 6:45pm tonight.

I love the pic, but there isn't the tack sharpness the close ups in bright light posessed. Maybe a little post processing will help.

Messing around with the wife's new camera

Ok, I almost forgot this place existed.

Looks like the restaurant thing never panned out. The fact is, I have not eaten anyplace inspiring enough to compel me to sing its praises or beat the crap out of it here in quite a while.

Anyhoo, I bought the wife a new DSLR for our 10th anniversary (a Pentax K2000 for those who care) and took it out in the garden for a couple of minutes on Sunday to test it out.

I'm pretty happy with it so far and am interested to see what it can do when the lighting is a bit more challenging.

Let's get Pho'ked Up!

I am toying with the idea of turning the blog into some sort of restaurant review type thing. It seems that the Times Herald Record has let their boring and self contradictory hack of a restaurant reviewer go and his departure has left a vacancy in world of Orange County restaurant criticism.

Yes, I said Orange County. One of my main beefs (ha ha...getting foody already!) with ex-reviewer guy was what I perceived to be an unnecessarily Ulster-Centric approach to choosing his victims. I realize the need to constantly cover new ground may have led him further afield than he might have planned, but for the time being I am under no such restrictions and plan to keep this shit up in the OC, baby....represent!! Of course any trip I take outside the area might include a dinner out and I wouldn't deny you a story about a memorable experience so no worries, eh?

This endeavor may be accompanied by an effort to become a bit less insular and attract new readers. It may also simply be the antecedent to a complete loss of interest and total abandonment of this page forever. I hate to put pressure on myself. Let's just play it by ear.


So, anyway.....I'll relate my impressions of my last trip to a newer Orange County Restaurant. This is from memory so the details may be lacking, but this is a new idea that came after my meal.

My wife and I recently enjoyed a lunch at the new Vietnamese place in Monroe. It's named Sai Gon and is located in the space formerly occupied by The Velvet Monkey (46 Millpond Parkway to be exact).

Upon entry we noticed that very little had been done to the room since the Velvet Monkey days other than a paint job, the addition of some Asian decorative items, and what looked to be new and nicer furniture. The rustic "I busted up a shipping pallet and built me a bar" remains and it is stocked with all kinds of high end booze. I need to keep this place in mind next time I need to sip some Remy Martin Louis XVIII or spray down some ho's with a bottle of Cristal.

It was lunchtime though so I ordered an iced tea. I was pleased to receive freshly brewed Jasmine tea, but disappointed that it was a bit over steeped and bitter. No big whoop.

The older couple seated behind us had ordered what looked like an appetizer sampler and their running commentary featuring quotes such as "This is too spicy" and "What the hell is that?" was very encouraging and convinced the wife and me to order the same. According to the menu this dish was the BBQ Platter and featured the following items: "Crispy spring rolls, beef stuffed grape leaves, shrimp pop, grilled meat ball, rice vermicelli, and lettuce. Sprinkled with crushed peanuts". Sounds bitchin'. We also ordered a cabbage salad and bowls of Pho. The standard broth with beef and noodles for my wife, and the full boat tripe, tendon, and rest of the cow version for myself.


The BBQ platter arrived and we dug in. I will present my impressions of the items in ascending order of awesomeness.

1. Grilled meat ball: Delicious, perhaps a bit firm but mildly spiced and paired well with the small dish of dipping sauce provided. The dipping sauce seemed to be rice wine vinegar, sugar, chili flake, and fish sauce, but I could be wrong.

2. Crispy Spring Rolls: Another tasty tidbit. Filled with pork and veggies, they were not as delicate as other Vietnamese rolls I have had. In fact, they reminded me very much of Lumpia (Filipino spring rolls).

3. Shrimp Pops: These consisted of shrimp meat that had been pulverized, mixed with spices and then molded around a stick of grilled sugar cane. I found the shrimp to be a bit rubbery in texture and felt it could have used more heat, but I'll admit my ignorance here and wonder if it is traditionally as bland as this was. The star here was the sugar cane, which when gnawed upon gave up the most delicious juice I have ever sucked out of a woody stick. Oh man that sounded bad. Whatever...if you ever order the shrimp pops just make sure you chew on the sugar cane. You won't regret it.

4. Beef Stuffed Grape Leaves: WE HAVE A WINNER! The English name "Beef stuffed grape leaves" cannot possibly begin to hint at the sheer and utter deliciousness of these little pockets of meat and foliage. In fact, my powers of description will inevitably fall short as well. All I can say is they are a must try item. Simply fantastic.


So far so good.

After finishing off the appetizer the cabbage salad arrived. This was a medium sized bowl filled with shredded cabbage dressed with something suspiciously similar to the dipping sauce I mentioned earlier and topped with slices of fried tofu and bits of crispy fried garlic. Not bad at all but, as I ate it, I kept thinking to myself "I could make this at home".

Thanks for the idea, Sai Gon!


Midway through the salad the Pho arrived.

It was presented in the traditional way which, for the uninitiated, means a steaming bowl of beef broth and noodles with fresh cilantro and green onions topped with paper thin slices of raw flank steak that cook before your eyes in the hot broth. My Pho Dac Biet also had bits of tendon, tripe, and meatballs. Long slow cooking makes the tendon and tripe tender and velvety.

Of course these items aren't for everyone, but to me they add authenticity and satisfy my food snobby urge to eat like the locals or some shit.

The Pho was serviceable, not the best ever, I thought the broth could have used more star anise and ginger and I was very disappointed at the absence of the traditional Pho condiments. Namely: Hoisin sauce, Sriracha, Lime, Basil, and Mint. Some bean sprouts might have been nice too.

Overall we thought Sai Gon was a very good place to eat and I am totally willing to give them a pass on the Pho situation because they are the only Vietnamese restaurant in Orange County and as evidenced by the yammering of our neighbors, it takes balls to open a place that serves something out of the ordinary when more than half of your clientele will be people who have no idea what the hell your food is all about.

This leads me to the thought that the owners may be dumbing down the food a bit to satisfy folks who love nothing more than eating something bland and safe.

Believe me, I have seen it happen.

One thing I know is that when I return, and I most definitely will, I will ask them to hold nothing back and prepare my food like they were going to eat it themselves.


I would highly recommend Sai Gon, and if you are able, I would beg that you go there yourself. Places like this need our support and a meal eaten here is a vote for diversity and against the crushing monotony and sameness that has characterized Orange County dining for far too long.

Found in my Moleskine

I'm no writer.


I have not let this stop me from starting this blog and, more excitingly, developing a love affair with those little black notebooks from Italy. I have several of them and use them for any number of notebook related tasks ranging from logging my horse playing activities to sketching ideas for the woodland cabin/yurt/lean-to I am never going to build.

I have even taken to carrying one in my pocket at all times so I can jot down super awesome blog ideas as they occur to me since I never seem to remember those incredible brainstorms that arrive on angels' wings, take up residence in my brain for about 5.4 seconds, and then disappear forever. I figured being armed with my favo notebook and a pen would help capture these nuggets and turn me into Mr. Most Interesting Blogger Guy Ever.

So far having a Moleskine in my pocket has accomplished nothing, except to ensure that these wonderful ideas never arrive in the first place.

I guess they're like Santa.....if you're looking for them they'll never come.

This does not mean my notebook is blank though.

Oh no.

I found this little gem in there today and decided to share:


"Cut one leg off- College Inn"


I don't need to tell you I immediately grabbed my pen and wrote a big giant "WTF???" next to that one.

After flipping past a recipe, phone numbers, and some crap from work I found another one:



"What did Jabba The Hutt see in Leia?"



Now that one I can understand.

Sure Leia drove millions of human Star Wars dorks insane with her space bikini and the fact that she was chained down probably drove the sweaty little future Flash developers insane, but how was she hot to a dude who's species was basically a mound of reptilian fat?

Did he think he was going to bang her or something?


I would imagine he would find a female Hutt more attractive.


Somebody might be able to do something with that.


The rest of the notebook is filled with banality, but at least I used it to write down a pretty good recipe for skirt steak that I created one boredom filled Sunday afternoon.


I guess my Moleskine has proven useful....despite its incredible inspiration killing powers.

Sticking WIth Guitars For The Moment

I'm planning on doing something ranty and rather long about guitarists and such, but I felt the need to comment on something regarding modern country music and country guitar players.

For most of my life, I have been an avowed country music hater, but over the last decade or so I have begun to appreciate the number of seriously talented musicians and singers who play shit kicker music and the list is long and prestigious.

Two of them have recently landed smack dab in the middle of my radar screen.

Brad Paisley and Keith Urban.

Both have had many hits and Keithy Boy is currently married to plastic-surgery-disaster-waiting-to-happen Nicole Kidman.

They each have reputations as stellar guitar players and there is a raging debate among some country fans as to who is better.

I figured I owed it to myself to check out their stuff and see if I could somehow find something that would help me decide for myself.

A extensive search of YouTube and iTunes has made one thing abundantly clear.

There is NO CONTEST....Brad Paisley is about 123,334 times better than Keith Urban.

Keith is known for playing a medley of classic rock tunes during his shows and my research has shown that if it were me standing on that stage with a guitar the audience would hear the exact same thing. In fact, my decidedly less attractive countenance might possibly lead to some boos.

On the other hand Brad Paisley is known for more traditional country style playing and his YouTube vignettes feature some of the fastest chicken pickin' and string bender action I have ever seen.

This guy is amazing and deserves to become a legend ala Hendrix or Clapton. I cannot praise him enough.


It seems that Pretty Boy Urban has a lot of teeny bopper fans who somehow think being handsome and playing some Aerosmith riffs makes you a guitar god.



So there.....I've settled it.

Not that you needed it settled.

Yamaha SBG is in my hands

Well, I got it.

It's awesome.

It is as well made an instrument as I have ever seen and I am proud, elated, and like totally stoked to own one, dude.

The workmanship and attention to detail that goes into a guitar like this is something I truly admire and I found it touching that the man who built mine actually signed the inspection card in his own hand.

You did a fine job, Mr. Kobayashi.

I only wish you had a more interesting Japanese name.....Kobayashi is like Smith or Jones over there.




Anyway, I am already playing and sounding way better than I have any right to.


One problem though.

I now have an incredibly bad case of GAS.

Better known to musician types as "Guitar Acquisition Syndrome"

This affliction results from the realization that nothing goes better with a nice new guitar than another nice new guitar.

Or a nice used one.

You know...you can't really play Rolling Stones songs without a Telecaster........


....hmmmm.......


Maybe I'll just practice more.

Yeah....that's it.

My New Yamaha

So.....I'm turning 40.

I haven't quite decided whether I am going to embrace the birthday as a milestone or adopt some sort of "It's just a number" type philosophy and continue on as if nothing had happened.

I am leaning towards the latter since I feel it will be the final act in a long process of getting over my mid-life crisis and being happy with what I have and where I am in life.


Not that aforesaid crisis drove me to any embarrassing attempts at recapturing my youth or any of the other assorted cliches.

No Corvettes or baseball mitts here.

There has been one little thing nagging at me though.

One last gasp of crass materialism.

Some part of me feels that a man of my age should own a Rolex watch.

I am an avid watch collector and own over 40 time pieces both new and old, but a Rolex has never graced my collection and probably never will.

I could rant on and on about their deceptive advertising, lack of value, and assorted other evils, but some part of me still wants one.....badly.


Too expensive though.......$5000 for a watch that's truly worth about $800 simply isn't justifiable....at least not to me and certainly not to my wife.


Instead, I've decided to listen to another part of me that feels a man of my age should own a Gibson Les Paul.

Heck, I have wanted one since I was in the second grade and saw Ace Frehley playing his 1959 Cherry Sunburst Les Paul in Dynamite Magazine (remember Dynamite?) In fact, I once read an article written by a large music store owner who claimed that Ace inspired more kids to play the guitar than Eddie Van Halen, Jimmy Page, and any other big name guitarist combined.


I have owned several guitars over the years and even though I am nothing more than a hobbyist at the moment I decided the time has come for me to own the same guitar Ace does.



Pump yo brakes, kid.



A 1959 Paul costs around $220,000!!

A Custom Shop Re-issue goes for over $8000!!



Ok......what do I do?

Knowing that the current standard model Les Paul is a shadow of its former self (They are actually hollowing out chambers inside the guitar because the wood they get now is so dense and toneless) I needed a backup plan.

Enter the Yamaha SBG-2000.







Made semi-famous by Carlos Santana and Bob Marley in the mid-70's the Yamaha is everything the current Les Paul is not.

Yamaha is truly beating the shit out of Gibson at their own game and offers a custom shop level instrument at a standard price point.

Not exactly my dream guitar, but better.

Perhaps I will post a review when I actually acquire one.





Now I can say 40 is just a number.

Happy New Year

No long recaps of the year gone by, but just a wish for all three of my readers.....here's to 2009...may it surpass 2008 in every possible way.

Given 2008's incredible suckitude this should be an easy task.


Peace, mah homies.