Best of 2013 photographs

A long, long time ago--back in 2007!--I put together an end-of-year "best of" list of 10 favorite photographs from the previous 12 months. I guess this was a knee-jerk habit that carried over from my newspaper days, when the last week of the year was largely given to recaps and "best of"lists.

At the risk of underwhelming the minimal readership of this blog further, I'd dug out this year's Top 10. I'll admit that they're not real grabbers. Honestly, I haven't done a lot of great photography this year. Most of these shots are close to home, and a couple of them are family photographs, for chrissake. Maybe I'm just more discerning of my work. I did make some nice railroad photographs on the few times I went out trackside, but much anymore, a train photo is a train photo is a train photo (unless, ya know, it's thirty years old, depicts something that has long since disappeared, or has a great story behind it). The train shots this year were solid railroad photographs, but nothing really that deserves being in the top 10.  At the risk of being pedantic or overly expository, I'll add a bit of commentary to them.

So here goes, in no particular order:

Aluminum Overcast: A vintage World War II C-47 cargo plane casts its shadow over a Fort Worth overpass while taking paying passengers on a quick 20 minute flight over downtown. I bought a groupon ticket that was too good to pass up and took my son E. along. He loved it, as did I. And it was LOUD in that good, roaring radial engine loud. Canon 60D.

Losing Grandpa: A very emotional photo for me, obviously. My father's long battle with Alzheimers is a couple of days from a conclusion, and we brought the boys to make a last visit with him in the nursing home. Not that it matters, but this is one of two photos taken on an iPhone4.

His First Pair of Glasses: E. takes his first look around in the optometrist's shop after getting his first pair of glasses. I was surprised he liked how he looked. I think he looks great, though that's not usually how a kid feels when it happens to him. I remember that day well myself. Fuji X20.

The Fashion Icon: I. is the actor in our family, a little ham who always surprises us with something he says or some attitude he strikes. We were headed to a friend's wedding the Fort Worth's funky Stockyards area when I put him up against the wall and told him to work it, baby. And he did. James Dean has nothing on this guy. The other iPhone image.

Feeding Time: On a visit to the Gulf Coast at Port Aransas, Texas, I got the clever idea to tell I. to hold some potato chips over his head. It didn't take long to attract a flock of seagulls that would've made Hitchcock proud. No human was shit upon in the making of this photo, either. Amazing. Fuji X10.

Barefoot, Beer, and a Six String: An enjoyable afternoon with Mary taking in the yearly Art Google, where the trendy Magnolia District in Fort Worth opens up galleries, artists sell from tables and musicians play in parking lots. This guy took the barefoot route. Big drops of rain were falling, and he was soon chased under a canopy to wait it out. Fuji X20.

Say Howdy to Big Tex: After bursting into flames in 2012, Texas State Fair icon Big Tex was back after complete reconstruction. A reproduction life-sized bust of Tex was a popular stop in one of the fair's exhibit halls. Fuji X20.

Tools of the Trade: Went to the northwest in October to give a photo presentation, and spent the day after checking out the Mount Rainier Scenic Railroad, a tourist and steam preservation operation that boasts one of the largest fleets of operating steam locomotives in the United States. It'd operated since the mid-1980s, and it was my first visit. The friendly, mostly-volunteer crew gave us the run of the place. My favorite place was the machine shop where big greasy lathes and presses made parts for locomotives where no replacements were available. Great still life possibilities of an industrial realm. Fuji X20.

12:30pm, 11/22 in Dallas: The time and date are indelibly etched into the memory of people of my generation who remember the day in 1963 when John Kennedy was murdered in Dallas. The 50th anniversary of that dark day was 2013, and as the remembrance service took place downtown, I drove through the city in weather appropriate for the somber occasion. Fuji X20.

Steve Earle and the Dukes: In 2011, I showed up for his show at Dallas' Granada Theater with a hulking Canon 60D DSLR, only to be turned back at the door with the admonishment that "the artist doesn't want any professional cameras at the concert." A bit puzzled--I guess Mr. Earle would prefer that only shitty cell-phone photos be made of him?--the incident pushed me down the road to getting rid of the big DSLR's entirely, beginning with purchase of a very small, non-threatening Fuji X-10 camera. I returned in 2013 with the X10's  successor X-20 model; I've since supplanted it with a slightly-larger but higher quality X-E2. But there's nothing wrong with the quality of this little point-and-shoot. Quite amazing performance from a camera so small. Thank you, Mr. Earle, for helping me see the light!

Back to the Basics

 

Dad got his first Leica, a IIIf like the one on the right, after World War II. He bought me my first "real" camera, the all-manual SLR mamiya/sekor 500TL, for Christmas in 1974, launching my interest in photography. My new Fujifilm X-E2, bottom left, merges rangefinder styling with total manual operation if desired--a perfect "photographer's camera" in a mirrorless compact format.

For Christmas this year, I've entered my third "phase" of photography.  But really, it's a return to basics.

My parents bought me my first "real" camera for Christmas back in 1974, when my dad took me into downtown Salt Lake City to an aptly named place called "Fourth Floor Camera Den" to pick out my first SLR, an $80 Mamiya/Sekor 500TL with 50mm f2 normal lens and leatherette case.

Being a Leica man, I'm sure my father would've preferred to have gotten his son properly situated with a rangefinder camera. But me, being a teenager in the 1970s, when the swaggering photojournalist with a bag of Nikon F's was perhaps in fullest bloom as a culture symbol (Paul Simon, you may recall, mentioned Nikon in his paen to Kodachrome film in the song by the same name)--well, it was all about the SLR. At least it was even since my 7th grade classmate Eric Einhorn showed me his dad's big Nikon collection at their stylish modern home high up in the Olympus Cove. There they were, what seemed like a dozen Nikkor lenses, packaged in golden boxes, protected in plastic cases. His dad, a doctor, if I recall correctly, had a couple Nikon F bodies, too, including one with a motor drive. In a world of middling camera brands like Miranda, Hanimex and Ricoh, Nikon clearly stood alone at the top of the mountain, with Pentax and Canon far, far below.

My father, Lou, the Leica fan. With the M3, Lake Powell, Utah, 1976. I used that cool metal camera strap on the X-E2 today.

 The Japanese-built Nikon was sexy and hip, and a favorite of soldiers who'd picked them up in PX's coming back from Korea and Vietnam. My dad preferred the German Leicas, of course. The brand practically invented 35mm photography back in the 1920s, and they were popular among soldiers like my dad coming home from Europe in World War 2. Dad owned an M3 when I became infatuated with Dr. Einhorn's Nikon F. For me, there never was a question: it'd be an SLR. And though I'd have preferred a Nikon, well, our budget pretty much ruled that out.

 Love at first sight: The 1959 Nikon F, the model owned by Dr. Einhorn.

That first SLR was really the first big phase of my interest in photography. I beat up on that poor old Mamiya, mashing in the front filter ring on the marginally-sharp 50mm f/2 lens. I eventually replaced the Mamiya with a succession of Nikons--FM, FT3, FM2, finally F3HP-- as I decided on pursuing a career as a photojournalist. The bag of Nikons remained another nine years after I gave up the profession in 1994, until I decided to ditch the film cameras for one of the new digital SLR's starting to challenge traditional film photograph. The move to the budget 6 megapixel Canon Rebel would mark a second phase of my photography, letting go of the notion of exposing for a single type of film instead of a full spectrum of light sensitivity that one could change from exposure to exposure. That DSLR looked like a film camera, felt like a film camera, and certainly worked like a film camera. But pixels were definitely cheaper to expose, and my laziness at not changing a roll of film until it was too late was no longer an issue. There was still darkroom work, only it was done in front of a computer running Photoshop. With each successive camera purchased--from a Rebel XTI in 2008 to a EOS 60D in 2011--it became easier and easier to take great photographs without really thinking about the process of photography. Anyone can be a competent photographer these days, something that certainly wasn't the case when my dad placed that Mamiya in my hands back in 1974. (This is much to the chagrin of professional photographers, who've seen their work disappear and their rates drop as a result of the proliferation of photographers. Many have turned to giving workshops to make up for the loss of their clients, making their potential competitors, as a result, that much better!)

Me, the serious and earnest young photographer, with my first SLR, the Mamiya-Sekor 500TL, in 1975.

So, looking for a bit more challenge to my creativity,   I start my third phase in photography this Christmas. I just sold off the last of the Canon DSLR gear to finance a leapinto somewhat uncharted waters by going all-in on a Fujifilm X-series "mirrorless" digital system. If you read the photo blogs, you'll know that many predict the mirrorless cameras to be the future of serious digital photography. With camera phones gutting much of the point-and-shoot market, developing photo technology has allowed small, compact camera bodies with a rangefinder-like digital viewfinders to equal the performance of much larger DSLR's in nearly every category, The DSLR's for now still hold the edge in several areas, among them fast focusing on moving subjects (as in sporting events) and in fast aperture long-telephoto lenses--so for now, the DSLR will remain THE camera for sports and wildlife photography. And the large sensor size of the high-end DSLR's will keep them employed by most professionals who require optimum sharpness and the largest file sizes. And, lets face it, you hire a professional, and you expect them to show up with "impressive" cameras.

That's not to downplay the quality of the Fuji X-series image. I purchased the new X-E2 body to replace my Canon 60D largely because a big bag of Canon gear was getting too heavy to schlepp around. The X-E2 body is considerably smaller and less than half the weight (.77 lb) compared to the 60D.  The range of Fuji zoom lenses, while not small compare to other compact camera offerings, are still much smaller than the Canon gear. The big bag of DSLR gear was such a drag to lug around to most places that I'd bought a much smaller camera to travel with. I found that the smaller, less intimidating camera was much easier to photograph people with.

I'd digested a lot of on-line reviews on the current crop of these mirrorless digitals, and ultimately chose the Fuji X-E2 for its comparative large sensor (same size as that on the 60D, by the way), fast focus, availability of high-quality lenses, continued and constant firmware upgrades by Fuji, and familiarity with the basic design and function of controls gained by using the X10/X20 point-and-shoot compacts over the past 18 months. And, it's a sharp looking little camera, to tell you the truth.

I've found in using the little X10/X20s that, in addition to the quality of the images they produce, that they're FUN to use as well. I recall how photography used to be in the film camera era, where a photographer had to not only compose but EXPOSE the picture properly, and the Fuji X-series makes this return to enjoyment of CREATING an essential element of their cameras. You can, of course, just keep the thing in automatic exposure and bang away like a point and shoot, but here's a camera with a shutter speed dial, with lenses that can actually be focused, zoomed and the aperture adjusted by manipulating the lens!

They're not REALLY rangefinders, these new Fujis, but they're more like rangefinders, to me, than they are DSLRs. I'm sure there will be a learning curve in transitioning to the X-E2, but I'm jazzed about it. I'm just like that 14 year old in the Fourth Floor Camera Den. And that can't be a bad thing.

I'm sure my dad, the Leica Rangefinder Fan, would have approved of this camera.

Almost Three Years?

I'm baaaack.

I'm quite ashamed, looking at the date of the last post to this blog, that it's come to a little less than three years since I last updated this ongoing journal.

It is what it is.

And I'm blaming Facebook.

Just as Video Killed the Radio Star, so too, I get the feeling, has Facebook Killed Blogspot. Or at least fired a big nasty-ass shot across its bow. It's far easier to post photos, write, and troll for responses through Facebook than it is to do it on this blog of fairly limited readership. And looking through the blogs I once followed, I see that I'm not alone in thinking this way.

But so much has happened in the past three years in my life--my family's life--that really lends itself more to reflective posts rather than the hit-quick-and-frequently nature of Facebook. And while Facebook certainly has its pluses, it has its distractions and detractions as well.

So, I'm thinking, I'll give this Blogspot thing another try. I'll be a bit more free-wheeling and open with subject material. My interests and how I spend my time have changed somewhat over the past few years--there's less involvement in the Model Railroad side of my life (which has been covered on the North Of Narrabri blog) and less in the railroad/railfan sphere as well. My sons have aged three years as well since I've last posted--Eliot is six months from becoming a Teenager (and already has a jump on the moody/sullen/sassy/nonresponsive part of the deal), and Ian is almost nine. My father, who was in the early stages of Alzheimers/Dementia when I last updated, had withered away and finally succumbed to the disease last week. And my long-simmering interest in modern (that is, early 50s onward) architecture and design has boiled over to become one of my primary hobbies of interest as Mary and I finally start paying some attention to our homespace and give thought to what kind of home/neighborhood/etc. do we want to live in going forward in our lives.

There was another trip to Australia, and my slide scanning has notched up a bit (and no doubt there's several themes to cover with my old Kodachromes).  And the Texas Rangers went to two consecutive World Series' and were bumped out of a playoff run at the end of last season. And, oh my, I missed snarky comments from the entire last election cycle on here as well!

So, there's a lot to cover. And a lot I could cover. And, assuming I can maintain momentum and interest, much more for me to write about.

So, let's see how this goes.

Breakin' The :Law!

Ready to go: bamboo sparklers and some sort of Cone of Death. . .


It being July 4th, I figured what better lessons could I teach my sons in Being An American than these:

• Ignoring laws you don't agree with;

• Buying stuff from the Chinese.

Apart from the big spectacular firework shows we'd piled in the car to see on various Fourth of Julys, the dudes have had little experience with fireworks close up and personal. Until this year, being off work the evening of the 4th was a pretty rare treat, so it seemed like the right time to be a Right-Thinking American dad and load up on some "safe and sane" fireworks for a little evening pyrotechnical display. Nothing too extreme--sparklers, a pack of Roman Candles, a few firecrackers, and some Black Snakes.

I drove over the county line into Parker County--since fireworks aren't legal in Tarrant County--to a big steel building in the country jammed with fireworks and presumably Tarrant County residents loading up for the big day. They were doing a. . .wait for it. . .bang up business. I was curious to see a Tarrant County sheriff's deputy directing traffic. . .surely he had to know that pretty much everyone leaving the parking lot with their booty was headed south, back into Tarrant County!

It's our right as Americans, I guess, to just ignore the laws we don't agree with. And I found nothing wrong with setting off a few blasts before loading the family off to the Trinity River in Fort Worth to watch the evening firework displays. But first: let's light off a sort of double-ended rocket around 5" in length that would spin around, rise "around five feet" off the ground (according to the girl at the fireworks store) and spew sparks, smoke and noise. The kids were enthralled--it looked like a damned UFO. But then it kept rising, still belching fire--15, 20, 30 feet. . even 50 feet, and it headed right off our property to land on the neighbor's roof. Hopefully, their roof was fireproof!

This wierded the kids out. On one had, I. felt the display was "way awesome!" but E. was a bit concerned about dad ending up in jail for not only torching the neighbor's home, but for violating the anti-fireworks ordinance.

Saw the fireworks downtown. It was about average as firework shows go. I promised the boys we'd light off some stuff when we got home, but it was pushing on 11pm and they were sleepy, and E., well, he was now deadset against my breaking the law and suggested we throw away what was left of the $20.96 in fireworks I purchased earlier that day.

His demeanor changed when I broke out a few sparklers. Now he had a big grin and he and brother spun and twirled around the back yard spewing multi-colored sparks. Sprinklers aren't as I remembered them--now they're bamboo instead of galvanized wire you'd be sure to either step on in the lawn or burn yourself with afterwards. And, like everything else fireworky, made in China.

But they were still fun. Even though E. won't sleep easy tonight, dreaming of a father behind bars.


I. lays out a trail of fire. . .and he's lovin' it!


The ever-serious E. takes a more traditional approach to sparkler handling.

Our Night of Living Large. . .

Here we are, sealed in the Rangers Ballpark aquarium called "The Cuervo Club". And, man, am I filling out that fine leather chair!

Mary and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary Saturday night. Since we're not the Jet Set (we're more the Chevro-let set, as George Jones once sang), we didn't fly off to Cancun or Vegas or Oklahoma City to party with the hoi polloi. Not that we didn't think about it--actually, we considered flying to Chicago for a weekend and maybe splurge for good seats to a Cubs Game, but that was too pricey for us as well (understandably with two kids and 1.1 incomes).

So we decided to stay at home, and take in a Rangers game from some high-priced seats (we'd entertained a night in a fancy nearby hotel as well--if any of those exist in Arlington--but couldn't swing it as I was unable to get the next morning off of work).

So, I dropped a hundred bucks a seat each on Stub Hub for a pair of plush, leather recliners in Row One of the Cuervo Club, back of the 100 level behind home plate. It's a de luxe setup. The aforementioned leather recliners, air conditioning, seat-side service, an included buffet, etc., all behind thick windows to keep out the heat.


The all-you-want-til-the-fifth-inning buffet.

Certainly was fancy enough, but there were only a handful of butts in the seats, and I'm guessing most of the patrons weren't the ones who own the season tickets on them. We sat next to a 60-ish couple from Tyler, who bought the seats on line; apparently our seats are owned by a wealthy east Texas physician who releases many of his seats for sale on Stub Hub. Behind us were a couple of young moms with a toddler along.

The buffet was nice, and all-you-can-eat, but plastic plates and forks. There were a couple of gourmet foot selections, the rest being cheese, crackers (not crackerjack!), fruit, salads and as you'd expect, hot dogs, nachos and brisket "sliders". We certainly made a few trips to the buffet line before it was taken down in the 5th inning.

Like I said, nice, but something was missing. . . such as the participation of those in the Club with the game. The glass was thick enough to keep out nearly any of the sound from outside. It was like watching a 150" high-def television three feet from your face with the sound off. The Rangers radio broadcast was piped into the club, but it just wasn't the same.

We both agreed: what's the point of going to the game if you're not experiencing what makes live baseball so great. We missed the sound of the ball on the bat, the roar of the crowd, other spectators getting up to get food and blocking your view. We missed the kid behind us tapping our seat with his foot, the smell of the beer, the cramped seating, and yes, even the wave.



Sure, it was a nice view from behind the thick glass. .

And we missed the heavy, humid evening air and the way it wrapped around us.
As Mary said, she felt like she was in an aquarium!

In the top of the eighth inning, with the Rangers up 3-0, and closer Frank Francisco headed to the mound with runners on first and second with no outs, we decided we'd had enough of the muted, detached ambience of the Cuervo Club and snuck out the side doors, into the thick air, the smells and the roaring crowd, and settled into some seats a couple sections down third base.

It was great. We watched Frankie throw a couple of key strikeouts and next inning our man Neftali Feliz breeze through the last of the White Sox batters for the save. THAT was the way baseball is meant to be watched.

I guess if you're not a fan, or like creature comforts, or want to impress dates or business clients (lord knows I don't have to impress Mary after 10 years!), then the Cuervo Club is fine. But put my ass in a hard plastic narrow seats, and me knees into the back of a stranger in front of me--and I'm a lot happier.


THIS view was better, down the first base line. Not only the view, but the ballpark ambience as well. . .

Oh Yeah, The Anniversary!

Yep, we made it 10 years. Knew we would. I'm committed to Mary and our family, and I'm here for the duration (whether she likes it or not!). Here's a few photos of our wedding on July 3, 2000, taken by my friend and fellow storm-chaser, the late Eric Nguyen. The only thing that hasn't changed is my hairstyle. Except that it's grey now, not blonde!

A New Season Begins. . .

E. is proud of his 1.00 OBP this year with the Braves. . .

We've survived winter--that long, cold, horrible Texas winter of 2010--to be reborn once again with the coming of the new baseball season.

That means, to our family, anyway, both Major League as well as Little League. And a bit down the road, probably some Minor League as well.



E. cheers on his teammates. . .
.

The Boys are Back in Little League

Both E. and I. are once more playing in the Pioneer Youth Baseball Softball Association in Saginaw. E. is in his second-year of Kid Pitch, I. in his first year of t-ball. My move to an afternoon/daylight schedule in the fall means that I will only be able to make about 1/3 of the boys' practices and 1/2 of their games; many thanks for duties Above and Beyond Baseball Momdom to Mary for driving the kids around, encouraging them, and keeping the house on an even keel as well.

(By strange coincidence, both E. and I. were going to play for teams named "Cubs," much to E's delight (Cubbies are his all-time favorite team, bless his Wait-Til-Next-Year heart), but some sort of drafting snafu found E. the odd-man out and relegated to a makeup team with a new coach wearing the Braves name and uniform. And so far, that's cool with him. I. is amused to find himself on the Cubs, the arch rivals of his favorite Cardinals, while his brother isn't. But I digress.)

E. has played three games so far, and has yet to make hitting contact during a game, but he's adopted a "Moneyball" philosophy of making the pitchers throw strikes, rather than the batter swinging at shitty pitches. So far, he's reached base on strikes most of the time. And in Kid-Pitch, at least for his age-level, the pitching pretty much favors the patient hitter. It's rare to see consistent strike pitching. And with PYBSA rules allowing them to steal bases, you might as well put a walked batter directly on third base.



Wow! Look at that energized, Ion-charged baseball looming behind the boys in these somewhat-cheesy portraits. Mary and I can't believe how big they're getting.


MY opening game, Thursday. Section 22, row 13 at The Temple. Temperature upper 60s. Nice!

Rangers vs. Blue Jays, Game 3: at least the weather was nice. . .
.

With the boys in school and Mary working, I invited friend Lance along to the Temple to catch the third game of the Rangers-Toronto Blue Jay season opener. Ranger fans are once again sounding like Cubbies faithfuls: This'll be the year. And well it might? Though the California Angels are still expected to win the AL West, their dominance isn't as assured as in years past with quite a bit of off-season tinkering. Among those cast off the roster were DH slugger Vladimir Guerrero and speedy Chone Figgins, picked up by Texas and the Mariners respectively.

It could be the tightest AL West race in a decade. And with the lowly Blue Jays (how can they compete in the big-money realm of the AL East against the Red Sox and Yankees?) here to start the season, I'm guessing the faithful were anxious to get all that Tom Hick ownership and Ron Washington first-time-using-cocaine-and-I-was-caught-oh-what-a-sad-coincidence talk behind them with a good ass-whoopin' on the Canucks.

It wasn't going to be that easy, it soon became clear. The Rangers needed a thrilling walk-off win to save opening da. The Rangers pitching let down a good offensive performance in game two (sounds familiar?) featuring back-to-back solo homers from Vlad and Nelson Cruz. Thursday's game featured the debut of C.J. Wilson in a starting pitching role for the Rangers, against Toronto's Ricky Romero. Surely they'd win the rubber match, wouldn't they?

It isn't tough to get good seats for cheap to Jays games, as cheap Stub Hub deals no doubt follow them across the country. We got great seats 13 rows behind home plate for about half-face value. It was a beautiful day for a ballgame with a 1pm start.

For the first six innings, neither Romero nor Wilson allowed runs. Though Wilson struggled early on to keep his strike count ahead of balls thrown, he was particularly strong in his final three innings, leaving in the seventh after striking out nine while walking two and allowing five hits.



Former closer C.J. Wilson looked pretty good through six innings. . .

The Rangers broke the impasse in the seventh, scoring on a Romero wild pitch in the seventh. Then the bullpen took over. Neftali Feliz, atoning for two shaky relief appearances previously was lights out--three strikeouts, toying with 100mph in the eighth.

Enter closer Frank Francisco. And you can guess the rest.



. . and Frank Francisco, who took C.J.'s closing job last year? Well, not so good. . .

Wheee! There go the wheels off this train! Toronto's Vernon Wells homered in the ninth to tie the game, ultimately giving up three earned runs in 2/3rd of an inning before Darren O'Day and Darren Oliver came to his rescue. The anemic Ranger bats--hitless aside from Vlad going 3/4, and Cruz and Murphy each contributing doubles--didn't show up when it was time for a rally, either. Game over. Jays, 3-1.

But, it's a long season. And after the winter we had, it was just great to be outdoors for a game of baseball. Too bad only 14,000 others agreed with us!



We really love this portrait of I.. . .

A Photo To Share

Usually, I'm not too excited about class photos of the boys. Hell, I've got a box of my own up on a shelf in the closet, and they're interesting "slice of time" photographs, but not usually much more. The artistic expectations of the group shot and individual poses aren't too high, and parents usually feel compelled to purchase them as some sort of historical record.

So allow me to share this year's photo of I. from his Mom's Day Out class photo shoot. I'll give credit where it's due, as this portrait of our five-year-old was taken by mzkids. They did a fine job and I admire the non-traditional class photo pose. Actually, it's probably our most-favorite studio photo of our kids yet.


. . .and there's that "farmer smile" again.