Ploafmaster General

So this is one of my first two test shots of the new PX 70 film from The Impossible Project. What better way to test out some new film than a picture of my lovely wife :-)

Technically, this is a color film. But as you can see it's fairly de-saturated. It's also a little splotchy, and this is after two days of resting. It's supposed to improve with time, and this image has, but it's clear this is both experimental and their first commercial release of the film. I have 21 shots left (between the current pack and the two unused packs), and I'm hoping to take advantage of tomorrow's ample sunlight to get some better shots. The color is supposed to be better in such conditions.

Regardless, I love that The Impossible Project was successful in producing this new stock, and I can't wait to see what improvements they make in the future.

Hah! Not-so-clever double meaning! You know, because it's my only serious hobby and because I often go out by myself to take pictures. Har har.

Anyway, this is mostly about the latter half of the opening sentence. The thing is, I most often prefer to take pictures alone. Wandering around the streets of Richmond, I seek out the cliché subject matter: decay, strange vandalism, quirky signs, and so forth. I've enjoyed a number of photo-strolls with my wife and a few friends, sure, but there's a subconscious constraint every time I go out with other folks; I have to stay with the group.

I say it's a subconscious constraint because nobody ever really enforces this. I'm sure I could head out to Scott's Addition to shoot some old commercial buildings with my buddies and just pick a meeting point and time where we rejoin after burning through a few rolls of film (or space on a memory card). But when I'm with other folks I feel pressure to stick with the group, and that's because recreational photography with friends is a social activity. I don't just get together with Dave or Jake to take pictures. I get together with them to hang out because I don't get to see them that often. This social aspect, of course, means that I take any opportunity I can to take pictures with my friends. But when I really want to get out and turn ideas in my head into negatives/positives/JPGs, I'd rather be on my own.

It's also, along with the aforementioned drive between school and home, some of the little "me" time I allow myself.

I'm trying to eat better, really, I am. I relapse a few times a day, of course. But I'm making some effort rather than no effort.

A difficult part for me is that I'm not really a salad guy. Sure, I love plenty of vegetables, but most of them are not in typical salads and most of them are cooked - at least when I eat them. Standard salad veggies, on the other hand, are not my cup of tea: most lettuces, tomatoes, onions, or peppers.

I've know for quite some time that I can whip up a spinach salad, however. And I like spinach! I can mix in fresh herbs, carrots, and some other great stuff. Lest we forget, I can also judiciously apply kosher salt and freshly-ground black pepper or grains of paradise (a fantastic mild spice). But that would still leave me with a dry salad, because I just can't stand most salad dressings. Ranch? Anything with vinegar? Yuck.

So I'm working slowly...very slowly...trying to develop my own salad dressing that involves lemon juice as a substitute for vinegar. Nothing remotely close to success so far, but I'm plugging away. Something with peanuts perhaps? Maybe I need some coconut water to mix with that and a little fresh ground ginger. A lime instead of a lemon, and some toasted sesame oil, and I may be on to something. Then it's a matter of proportions.

Only time (and my taste buds) will tell.

RVANews posted today about Relay - a Charlottesville-based company that lets you order food and products from a variety of local/regional farmers and producers through a website, and pick up your order at a single location. Well Relay has expanded their service to Richmond, offering products from merchants around the greater Richmond metro area.

The site is a little janked as of this posting (I think they had a recent redesign), but I hope to try it out this week.

First person, self-referential introductory sentence that only hints at the full content of the blog post.

Another sentence that, still self-referential, connects the introductory sentence to this paragraph after an extra line (Parenthetical statement pointing out that the extra line was for dramatic effect. No mention of the amateur nature of this writing contrivance). Further explanation of the situation couched in a personal anecdote that has the tone of whining complaint. Rhetorical questioning of mutual understanding with readership - a readership that is, assuredly, small.

Here is where the blog post begins to collapse on itself. Tangentially-related point that causes this paragraph to devolve into self-pitying, half-coherent platitudes. Self-conscious recognition of derailed original intentions for this post. Obsequious yet still self-pitying apologies to hypothetical audience.

Dismissive valediction.

I always see this moped when I stop by the butcher shop, so it was only a matter of time before I photograph it, right?

Tonight I made it back to Secco for the first time in a few weeks (I know, I go there all the freakin' time). I was pumped, particularly, to be able to try one of the new dinner items: olive oil poached halibut. According to Chef Tim Bereika, the dish is elevated to it's tasty state using an almond crust, parsley sauce, corn cream, charred melon, prosciutto and halibut noodle. That "noodle" appears to be made by piping a halibut paste of sorts directly into the fryer. It adds a pleasant crispiness and a striking visual impact when the dish is delivered.

All components worked in concert to produce one of the tastiest dishes I've eaten at Secco. I'm already a huge fan, but this was a big deal. Richmond should be proud to have food of this caliber and creativity coming out of Carytown.

Hey, remember when you had to worry about skip protection on your portable CD player? If you were riding in the car with somebody you'd often have to hold the device gingerly on your lap because, despite said skip protection, the vibration of the car would eat that up in a hurry.

Hey, remember when you could buy the old formula of NyQuil over the counter without anybody suspecting you of being a meth head?

Hey, remember when you could, as a little kid, enter the cockpit of a commercial aircraft and greet the pilot? I got a little pair of American Airlines wings during a flight when I was six years old.

Hey, remember when the soles of flip-flops used to be made with an isotope of a rare-earth metal that would faintly stain your heels if you wore them every day? You had to alternate between your flops and some other kind of shoe every day unless you wanted folks to think you walked barefoot and didn't shower often.

Hey, remember when you could collect the UPC codes from cereal boxes and send them in to General Mills for gold coins? It took a whole lot of UPCs, but it was a way for a young boy to build his own gold stockpile.

Hey, remember when you could buy human organs on the open market? I don't know why they stopped doing that - they made for nice decoration in the middle of a coffee table, or a centerpiece at Thanksgiving.

Hey, remember when calling the right phone number just as the clocks were changing over for Daylight Saving Time would result in super powers? Well, maybe mediocre powers. I still don't see anything quite so super about triple the normal level of mucous production or the ability to cook soup in the can just by thinking about it. Although "shave your face by thought" was pretty sweet. I still miss it.

No? Wait - did all three of your eyes just blink in sequence?

Today The Impossible Project started selling the first new color instant film in years: PX 70 Color Shade FF (the "FF" means first flush - their first edition).

The examples look a little rough, but it's exciting to see new stock out there. It would appear this film is less temperamental than the Silver Shade variety, at least where heat is concerned. I'll know soon enough since I purchased a 3-for-the-price-of-2 pack this morning. I can't wait until it arrives!

Small businesses and entrepreneurs hold a special place in my heart. I believe small businesses contribute greatly to our economy in mostly localized ways. Entrepreneurs are those daring individuals who turn their ideas into businesses, often innovating along the way. There's a great deal of overlap between the two groups, of course.

My idealistic goal for my business education is to find a way to help small tech businesses and entrepreneurs succeed - to achieve and maintain profitability without sacrificing their ideas or what drew them into running a small business in the first place. This means I'm wary of the popular venture funding model where often cannibalistic firms trade large sums of money for sizable equity stakes and influence; where ROI and an exit strategy are more important than nurturing the idea that attracted the financing.

So I've always been encouraged and impressed by 37signals, a firm that achieved stable profitability, growth on its own terms, and complete ownership of its operation. The company has since accepted funding from Jeff Bezos of Amazon.com, but not before already establishing itself as a healthy player in the marketplace. 37signals believes in the path it took to success, so they have an entire series of posts on their blog about other firms that built themselves up without venture funding. "Bootstrapped, Profitable, & Proud" shines a light on other firms that have over $1 million in revenue, accepted no venture capital, and are profitable.

Not everybody with an idea has the money to start working on their great idea right now, however, so some source of funding is still required. You only need a computer to start your own software development business (and most Americans have computers now). But not everyone has the equipment lying around to start hand-making high quality photographic prints, for example. That's where Kickstarter comes in. Kickstarter allows users to create fundraising projects. You set a financial goal to be paid out in an all-or-nothing basis. If you hit or exceed your target, you keep what you raise. If you miss it, even if it's by a dollar, none of the contributors pays. This method has been used to fund albums, films, and even hosting for Whiskerino. Fundraisers seek money in different tiers and typically offer some reward in exchange for pledges.

With that in mind, I absolutely enjoyed reading Craig Mod's essay on using Kickstarter to feed his entrepreneurial appetite (via Daring Fireball). Craig emphasizes the use of Kickstarter as seed money for a direction rather than a single project. That is, contributors often believe in the work of a fundraiser, not necessarily limited to one project. So why not use the fundraising power of Kickstarter to get your business off the ground? This is already happening, of course. Kickstarter has projects open for starting a food cart, a community biotech lab, and a college media website. Sure you can raise money to prepare for a photo gallery exhibition, but why not try raising money to launch a photography business?

Kickstarter has only been around for a bit more than a year, so I'll be interested to observe the limits and heretofore unimagined uses of its fundraising capabilities. Here's hoping Craig's Kickstarter tips find a broad audience and his essay/results encourage many would-be entrepreneurs to take the next step in making their ideas into realities.

I wouldn't exactly consider myself to have OCD, but I'm certainly a man of quirky routines. It's not always about the comfort of familiarity, either. Often, for me, it's about creating a process. Once I have my process, I can improve and compete against my own past performance. This silly business allows me to turn mundane portions of my day into games and minor achievements.

All of this to say that one of my main routines is the drive back from class (I'm still a graduate student) to the house twice a week. I'm not the type to require a lot of "me" time, but this semi-weekly trip is about right for my needs, so I stretch it out by taking a slightly longer route than necessary. I get enough time to hear an extra song or two, think over whatever's coursing through my head, and decompress from a long day of work and school. Most of the "game" portion of this routine comes from trying to beat traffic signals, make it off the line faster than my neighbor in the next lane, and time my braking/downshifting so that I infrequently come to a complete stop. I assure you I do this within the bounds of posted speed limits and I always use my turn signals.

The latter stage of this drive takes me down Overbrook Rd. underneath Interstate 95. The weather has finally come down from its woeful high temperatures so I've been comfortable driving home with the windows down for the first time in recent memory. So I'm driving along Overbrook as usual and head underneath I-95 where I smelled the familiar stink of city-provided hydrocarbon.

Overpass gas.

I grew up in New Jersey where Dunkin' Donuts are as ubiquitous as 7-Eleven. I'm no donut junkie, but I do enjoy them and appreciate quality. Living in Richmond, however, means a comparative dearth of donut shops. There are a handful of Dunkin' Donuts franchises around, but too far outside the city for practical travel. We have a lone Krispy Kreme that's reasonably close, and they're pretty solid. There is, of course, the excellent Country Style Donuts out by the airport on Williamsburg Rd (you can find their goodies at the fantastic Lamplighter coffee shop, as well).

So imagine my surprise when I drove past a new donut supplier yesterday on my way home from dinner in the West End. In part of the space once occupied by the Richmond Decorating Center I saw the bright blue and yellow sign for Daylight Donuts:



This morning I decided to check it out, and while it wasn't bad it wasn't really anything special, either. The chalk-written menu boards over the counter didn't indicate what donut varieties were available. Nor were there any little signs in the case by each donut. Sure, some were self-explanatory, like the cake donut with chocolate frosting and chopped peanuts, or the glazed cruller. But the filled donuts? The donuts with different glazes? I received quick responses from the staff to my inquiries, but I could see this missing basic information causing a slow-moving line during the morning rush. At any rate, I settled on the orange-glazed cake and a powdered donut filled with custard:



The donuts were okay. The orange-glazed cake donut had a decent texture, but the glaze had only the slightest hint of citrus and tasted, for the most part, like generic sweetness. My custard-filled powdered donut fared worse. This approximated, to my memory, Dunkin' Donuts' "Bavarian Kreme" variety, but with less success. The so-called custard had the same unfortunately fake flavor, but the donut itself was inferior to the yeasty baked goods from Dunkin, Krispy Kreme, or otherwise.

The shop itself felt too empty and boring - cheap and generic decor gave the impression that they'd set up in a hurry on a limited budget (perhaps they did). I understand this is a donut shop and not a fine dining establishment, but nothing about this place invites you to stay, let alone come back. I may return once more to try the aforementioned donut with chopped peanuts on top, but I'm honestly not that intrigued.

UPDATE (4/5/2011):
Lest I lose my Richmond food credibility, I think I need to add something to the top of this post. The quality of this joint fell off very quickly. I mean seriously fast. It's too long a story and involves too much conjecture, but I basically don't go here anymore. The pizzaiolo that was the star of the kitchen no longer works there, unfortunately, but the pizza fell off before he left.

I stand by my taste buds' experience when I ate that first pizza at Stuzzi, but I'm sure some of my enthusiasm was affected by the novelty of finding proper Napoletano-style pizza in Richmond. Emotions easily override reason, especially where sensory input is involved.

The main point is, I had a great pizza on that particular night. I've since had better pizza from my own oven using a pizza kit from Pizza Tonight and some fresh mozzarella. If you like Stuzzi, fine. But you won't catch me in there these days.

****************************************

The bar has been raised for pizza in Richmond, Virginia.

Valerie and I dined at Stuzzi, the new pizza restaurant that took over the much-missed 1 North Belmont location. I was worried for a while that this place would be big on gimmick and low on quality because they lean heavily on their Napoletano pizzaiolo and hand-built brick oven in their marketing. They seem to have spent more money on decoration and branding than a typical pizzeria as well.

All fears melted like their freshly-made mozzarella in a 1000 degree oven when I took my first bite.

This pizza is the real deal. Other then the fresh mozzarella on our pizza Margherita, there was a perfect quantity of crushed San Marzano tomato sauce, a few leaves of fresh basil, and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. AND THE CRUST. Goodness gracious, the crust. I've opined before about the criticality of a pizza's crust. That I could eat this crust by itself and be satisfied is a mark of superior quality in a pizza. This wasn't just one of the best pizzas I've eaten in Richmond. This is one of best pizzas this Jersey boy has ever eaten (with the top spot still firmly held by L'Antica Pizzeria di Mechele in Naples, of course).

They have a reservation book, and it may be a good idea to take advantage of it if you can't make it to the restaurant by 6 PM on a Friday or Weekend evening. It was pretty busy tonight on Fathers' Day. It also took quite a bit of time for us to receive our pie, but I'll chalk that up to Stuzzi having only been open for a couple of weeks (hopefully!).

Side notes: We also started off with the mozzarella fritta - basically a sophisticated mozzarella stick, but made with their fresh cheese (round slices instead of sticks) and hand breaded. After our pizza we ordered some of their mini cannoli. These were a fantastic finish as the filling was some of the best I've had. Not too sweet, and a nice stiff texture.

It's $9 for the pizza we split, but if you're hungry you could easily scarf one yourself. It's still worth it. This is pizza as craft. But they have plenty of other toppings that look fantastic (and I intend to try) and will probably make splitting a pizza more filling for both parties.

Or you can just order one for yourself anyway. I have a feeling this stuff will make some of the best left-overs :-)

I work out in Richmond's West End, pretty close to where Parham Road intersects West Broad Street. Everyday I pass by what was, until recently, a Fuddrucker's burger joint. It's been closed for a while now, and I've been wondering what, if anything, would fill the empty building. Considering the trend of businesses moving further west toward Short Pump and leaving empty space behind, I was happy to see a construction trailer in the parking lot over the weekend.

This morning, however, I was thrilled to discover that not only will that space be occupied, but it's being taken over by one of my favorite Richmond food purveyors: Buz and Ned's Real Barbecue.

Here's how I connected the dots:
1. I searched for Fuddrucker's on Google Maps so I could get the street address.

2. Then I ran another search just using that street address, and a surprising link showed up under "Selected businesses at this address" in the sidebar: "Buz &Ned's Real Barbeque." I was immediately excited, but then a little confused because the spelling was off. Was it a mistake (on Buz and Ned's website it's spelled "barbecue")? I needed additional confirmation.

3. I searched around on Richmond Good Life's excellent (if a little over-crowded) website to see whether any recent stories talked about Buz and Ned's expanding into the West End, and I found a December 2009 article from Richmond Magazine. The article isn't specific about a location, but it's interview with Bruce "Buz" Grossberg indicates that he "arranged financing for a new place in western Henrico County and plans to close on the property by the end of January." Well it seems that closing happened, and things are moving forward because:

4. I ran a search through Henrico County's system for Plans of Development and found a case indicating that Buz and Ned's application for "Transfer of Approval" was received on April 14th of this year, and approved on May 26th, last week. The most recent update to the case was today, by Lee Pambid of the Planning Commission indicating the approval and sending of the approval letter. According to Article VI of The Rules and Regulations of the County Planning Commission for Henrico County, "Approval(s) of plan(s) of development are granted only to the owner-applicant(s) listed on the application. Subsequent owner(s) must request that the Commission transfer approval(s) to them." So this approval essentially transfers development rights from Fuddrucker's to Buz and Ned's.

I'm not really sure when it's supposed to open - and I'd be happy for anybody to fill me in - but since I drive by every morning and afternoon I'll be on the lookout as the situation progresses. It sure will be nice to have some of my favorite 'cue out by my office.

Normally after experiencing a high-quality food establishment I tend to gush about it on these digital pages rather quickly. I don't know if it's yet another sign of my dwindling energy for blogging or that it simply slipped my mind, but I've been to Secco Wine Bar in Carytown four times since May 14th and I'm just now writing about it outside of Twitter.

Secco (Italian for "dry" - hence the up-turned bottle, I think) is the long-in-the-making brainchild of Julia Battaglini, the owner of next door's River City Cellars, and it supplements RCC's fine selection of wines, cheeses, and beer with a clever dining menu. That is to say if you enjoy shopping at RCC then you probably already like about 1/2 of what they serve at Secco. What you won't find in the retail side, however, are some of the spectacular edibles such as their duck terrine with pistachios and dried cherries (wrapped in jamon Serrano, I believe), passatelli in brodo (a fresh pasta soup), pork confit sandwich, or flamenquines (pork cutlet rolled with more Serrano, breaded and fried).

The quality of the ingredients and the presentation are of a high level and, most impressively, quite affordable. The menu indicates "small plates" but the portions, while not the over-sized helpings of your average restaurant, are typically plenty for lunch. You can still put together dinner for between $10 and $20 pretty easily, and seemingly half of the excellent wines-by-the glass are around $5. Secco's menu favors sampling and sharing, and the prices make it a great entry point to fine dining in Richmond. When I consider the comfortable atmosphere and friendly staff, however, Secco also invites you to become a regular, serving equally well as a place to meet with friends or simply chat with the bar tender.

I think I may stop by for a glass of cava tomorrow evening, in fact.

Last night I quit Facebook. Again. It's not because they've changed their layout. It's not because they added some new feature. It's not because I'm afraid Facebook is selling my data to corporations or some other paranoid plot. It's not even really about privacy. There are privacy controls and I understand them, and I use them.

It's the implementation, however, that pushed me over the edge. I just got seriously tired of having to flip switches and opt out of everything. When something that's ostensibly entertainment turns into work it loses any shred of fun it had left. I've long tolerated Facebook for the sake of my family connections who use it all the time, but I've never warmed up to its near uselessness (for my purposes) since I re-joined a little over a year ago. Now that privacy maintenance has become too onerous I've decided to ditch it again. If everything was opt-in instead of opt-out I'd probably linger around a bit longer. But I don't like the idea that I have to learn about, search for, and maintain every new setting because they're turned on by default.

Have I left for good this time? I hope so. I didn't really get anything new out of it when I returned except for additional annoyance, more wasted time, and a feeling that I had to be more careful about what I said because of who was following me. Good riddance.

(blurry photo by the kind hostess)

Yeah, that's right. I also included this post in my "Arts" category. Because the meal Valerie and I consumed over a perfectly-paced three hours was a masterpiece.

I made reservations over a month ago for dinner at Alinea in Chicago and was immediately giddy at the prospect of eating my first haute-cuisine meal. Each passing week brought the realization that I was ever-so-much closer to tonight, and as I sat down in the upstairs dining room of the stylish and contemporary restaurant (perfectly befitting the Great White City) I had the nervous excitement of a child on Christmas morning who has woken just a little too early for his parents to let him tear away the wrapping paper. I know that sounds a bit cheesy and overwrought, but I'm serious. I felt like kid. Before every course. And the excitement built before each of the THIRTEEN courses.

Valerie and I each had the smaller - yes, there's one bigger - of the two menus, but we didn't leave hungry at all. We knew there would be around thirteen items, but with a frequently changing menu we had no idea what would arrive at our table next. One set of flavors transitioned to another with varying intensity of flavor. Amuse-bouches built up to incredible major courses before winding down with three dramatically different yet perfectly complimentary desserts.

I'll not list the entire menu here - perhaps I'll update the post with a scanned image of tonight's menu when I get home - but I'll share a few highlight items. I can't begin to describe some of the preparations, though they did include gels, foams, clever service, and liquid nitrogen. Sure, call it "molecular gastronomy" - a cliché at best - but it would also miss the point. The presentation served to delight more than simply the palate. The aromas, textures, and even how we were to eat certain courses made spectacular entertainment out of what was ostensibly dinner. The food wasn't merely delicious, but it was fun to eat. It was, therefore, easy for me to dive right in to some ingredients that I had until then avoided. Shad roe? Sure! Morel mushrooms? Delicious. Leeks? Absolutely. But there was also sturgeon, confit of pork belly, Wagyū beef, fois gras, and black truffle. It was a culinary tour de force.

It wasn't cheep, and I'm sure you guessed that. And I'm sure a meal like this isn't for everyone. I have no problem with somebody wanting to eat what they grew up with, or comfort food, or keeping it simple. But if you're willing to step outside your gustatory comfort zone, save your dollars and make it happen. It's worth every penny. Is it wasteful? I'd argue it's not. There is craft, there is skill. There is visual beauty. Expert execution coupled with extraordinary creative talent. To eat at Alinea is to be a patron of the arts.

I've been sitting on this find for quite a while and today I think it's time to show everybody.

I inherited this nearly-perfect-conditio Polaroid SX-70 from Valerie's late grandfather. It appears he received this beauty as a birthday gift back in 1973.

I ordered some of the completely new film stock from The Impossible Project last Friday (3/25) when it went on sale and recieved my two packs today. I'll be honest - the first pack didn't go so well. I chalk it up to being a total novice using this type of camera, but essentially I grasp how long the shutter was open in the given lighting conditions and ended up with several shots of nothing.

I'll scan the closest thing I have to a success - and some of the interesting failures - when I get a chance this evening.

I have one more pack, too, and I think I have the hang of this thing, so hopefully I'll have some more to share over the weekend.

A few times a semester I write for the Robins School of Business MBA Blog. I try to focus on the intersection of technology and business since that's my background, and I had a few thoughts about those little portable computers we carry with us every day:

With the advent of powerful mobile operating systems such as Google’s Android, Apple’s iPhone OS, Palm’s WebOS, and Microsoft’s forthcoming Windows Phone 7, you can say that your mobile phone does everything on this list as well. Oh yeah, and all of these devices let you make and receive phone calls, too.

Forgive the long setup to get to the point. I hope it's at least food for thought.

So a few days ago HP posted a video to their YouTube channel. It's on HP's channel, but the video is basically Adobe selling HP's "Slate Device" for them.

Yesterday Apple premiered their television ad for the iPad during the Oscars.

It struck me, as it did John Gruber, that the iPad commercial is quite a bit like many iPhone ads. End users are the focus and we hear no explanations of what you're seeing or how it works or why it's there. You just hear a rock song and see people in comfortable, informal situations using the iPad with ease.

In Adobe's demo video for HP's "Slate Device" (I hope they come up with a better name than that. Or at least better than "iPad.") the focus seems to be on the content providers rather than content consumers. Sure, there are references to real people using the device. But there's a saturation of seller-oriented themes in there about content publishers, developers, content distribution channels, and "branded site experiences." A user likely won't mind opening a separate video player to watch a clip if the transition is executed well. But MTV doesn't want you to miss those Flash ads "in context of the site."

Adobe also uses Alexa metrics to indicate how many top websites use Flash and how much web video is served up using Flash. Users don't care about these numbers, sellers do. Users might want Flash video, but with so many people unaware of what a browser is they probably don't know that they want Flash either. They just know they want to see that skateboarding dog on YouTube.

I noticed a specific ding against iPhone's/iPad's lack of flash in Adobe's video when they mentioned the ability to consume content without the need for downloading a separate application. This is pure conjecture (though I'd love some real numbers), but I bet that's not a real problem for end users. Not all downloads from the App Store are fart apps and games.

Okay, so it's not a completely fair comparison. The Apple ad is a TV spot and the Adobe video is a demo spot and not necessarily a commercial. It should also be noted that I haven't used either device and, if it wasn't already clear, I hope you know that I'm not commenting on the quality or performance of the gadgets - merely the messaging and my perception of each message's audience.

It just seems strange that one of the earliest demo videos for this device would focus on content suppliers/sellers. Maybe it's because Adobe doesn't have to convince users to buy the "Slate Device." That's HP's job. Adobe wants to sell Flash to content creators. Last I checked, though, content consumers outnumbered content creators, so I hope HP has another partner company lined up to shill this thing to the people who are supposed to use them.

So this is it. Whiskerino 2009, and Whiskerino in general in its present form, is over. I participated every day, met some great people, honed my photography skills a bit (and learned to sit REALLY STILL), and had a total blast.

Just in case you need a review (as if you cared), check out my archives.

This weekend was the Whiskerino 2009 Throwdown. We had home-made beer. There was a little break dancing. Bowling. Tacos. A gigantic party/concert/party to wrap it all up. And of course, there was meeting a host of guys that turned out to be as quirky, interesting, and fun as their photos implied. It helped, of course, that we all started from the same baseline of nerdiness for having jointly participated in this Internet beard growing event. None of it would have worked had there not been a pile of decent human beings willing to push awkwardness aside and go hang out with a bunch of near-strangers for a weekend. But Sunday morning, there were a lot fewer near-strangers and a lot more new friends.

There's only a week left until the whole Whiskerino is over, but this weekend will go down as one of the best I've ever experienced.

I finally have a wide angle lens! This is my new AF NIKKOR 24mm f/2.8D, and you can expect to see it in use for the remainder of Whiskerino and many shots beyond.

This is also one of my first experiments using some light-reflective material (in this case some heavyweight white paper) to provide some fill light.

Pumped!!

Oh man, something new is on the way. Something through which light passes. Something that has a wider field of view than I normally experience.

More info on Tuesday, hopefully.