wilderimages

Super Bowl, are you ready?

2012-02-05T16:13:00.000-05:00

Okay, so what records will be broken during tonight's Super Bowl. Typically, 111 million or more American viewers will consume 1.25 billion chicken wings, 325 million gallons of beer, 71.4 million pounds of avocados in their Guacamole dip, 13.2 million pounds of pretzels, 45.8 million pounds of potato chips and the top three pizza retailers in the country are expecting to sell 4.5 million pizzas during the game. Who knows how many more will be sold by smaller chains and local family pizza shops. The amount of food consumed on Super Bowl Sunday is second only to Thanksgiving.

Is it any wonder that more than seven million people call into work sick on the morning after?

Enjoy the game and Go Pats!

Trash or treasure?

2012-02-01T21:14:00.000-05:00

Has anyone ever said to you, "Honey, please take out the trash?" And so you did, but then what?

On average, American consumers "take out" about 250 million tons of trash each year. Some goes to landfills, some to incinerators and waste-burning manufacturing plants, and some to recycling centers, only to delay the inevitable when it will one day become trash again. Sure, I pick up a few choice treasures at our local recycling center occasionally, but I have to admit, I take a lot of it back a few weeks later after I have learned why someone "trashed" it the first time.

As I continue to focus on some of the environmental tragedies of inner-city culture, I was stunned to see a man with a leaf blower actually blowing the trash off the sidewalk in front of his store and out from underneath his overused BMW. Just like fall leaves, he was blowing discarded papers, cups, newspapers, and plastic bottles back into the street, or onto his neighbor's property. I guess it was his perspective on recycling.

We recycle and process trash as the environmentally prudent thing to do, while people in many third world nations recycle and process trash for survival. For some, municipal dumps are a source of food, building materials, cooking fuel, and even clothing. I just wonder how many treasures someone from the third world could find in these carefully packed bags of "All American Waste."

Up close and personal

2012-01-30T20:39:00.000-05:00

Whether on Fifth Avenue in New York, in an urban ghetto, or in a third world village, people are people. Author and photographer, Steve Simon, in The Passionate Photographer, expressed the importance of developing intimacy with subjects in street photography. I don't mean physical intimacy, but personal intimacy where you are essentially given permission to move in close and communicate with them on a deeper level. Some say it's an art, others a skill, and some are more anatomically descriptive, but nevertheless, it is a skill set that requires nerves of steel, especially when we do not share a common language.

Take this pit bull for example. I was photographing in one of the most rundown neighborhoods in Bridgeport, CT. When I turned around, I was staring into the face of a pit bull and Hector, its owner. It was not a time to turn and run, but instead, make friends -- fast! I don't remember what I said, but as you can see, it worked. His personal space became my personal space, if only for a few moments, but then that's all I needed.

Just BOOM!

2012-01-20T18:12:00.000-05:00

Last week I was photographing deep inside one of the buildings of the Remington Arms manufacturing complex that had been totally abandoned in 1988, when I found this window graffiti that really said it all. Before Remington moved from Bridgeport, CT, to Arkansas, they employed 17,000 workers at this 73-acre manufacturing complex of buildings.

Most of the windows have been broken out and floors littered with broken quarter inch safety glass that crunches under your feet as you walk through. The fuse boxes are hanging open and gutted. Graffiti covers most of the interior walls as street gangs claimed their respective territories. There was even a fresh dead rooster outside an open door that had obviously not fared well in a cock fight inside the night before. A couple of the four story buildings have been leveled, but the three foot deep debris field of broken brick, glass, and steel remains. It's a classic picture of urban blight and abandonment.

Today was one of those days when, like the last of the Remington employees 25 years ago, everything seemed to go "BOOM." No need to go into details because we have all had them. You know, a sequence of events that seems to knock the wind out of you as soon as you try and pick yourself up from the previous event. We cry, "Woe is me, woe is me," and then we find someone who was hit harder.

Suddenly, the BOOM becomes a bang, and the sun comes out and shows us something new. Something we never thought of before. It puts new wind in our sails and fresh ideas in our minds. We leave the shattered rubble of the day behind and move in a new direction.

Walking down Main Street

2012-01-17T20:41:00.000-05:00

It seems every small town has a "main street," and most Connecticut towns actually name it, "Main Street." Each one is a treasure house of idyllic structures with their unique architectural elements custom designed, sometimes hundreds of years ago.

Some "main streets" are a blast from the past reminding us of our childhood. Gone are the dime stores and soda fountains, but often you can see traces of bygone memories like the F.W. Woolworth name in the stained stone above the windows of some stores. And what about the chrome rimmed Formica tables, red naugahyde booth upholstery, and jukeboxes with all those "flipper cards."

Main Street, Woodbury, is a haven of well kept homes and churches, some as much as three hundred years old. While most have been turned into art galleries or antique shops, many are still private residences that have been in the family for generations. I challenge you to spend a couple of hours like we did, and walk your Main Street, with your camera of course, and watch the beauty take shape. It's there, in the details.

This image is one of six 16x20 black and white prints from our Main Street, Woodbury, Connecticut, collection that we hung at Ayla's Deli in Woodbury, yesterday. Ayla's is located in Barclay Square, 20 Sherman Hill Rd. Stop in, enjoy a sandwich, and give us a call - not necessarily in that order, though.

What is your New Year's resolution?

2011-12-31T18:55:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure who started the New Year's resolution tradition, as they never seem to last very long. At the top of the list of favorites is spend more time with family and friends, followed by improved fitness, and losing a ton of weight, even though in past years we seem to weigh in at the same amount at the end as we did at the beginning, despite our well-intended efforts. Other people commit to learning a new word every day, quit drinking or smoking, pay off all debts, read a certain number of books, or read through the Bible in a year, take up a new hobby, drive within the speed limit, and on and on. You get the idea.

Now don't get me wrong, I like commitments and goals as much as anyone, but I know the importance of being realistic and honest with ourselves, too. So, if you make a resolution, make it meaningful, measurable, and memorable, not only for yourself, but others around you as well.

Happy New Year, and may it be your most memorable.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T18:03:00.000-05:00

One way to get attention in public is to say, "Merry Christmas," especially in response to someone who wishes you a politically correct, "Happy Holidays," for fear of offending someone, or not getting the sale. Perhaps it's even out of fear of being reprimanded, or even fired by their employer. Businesses, city halls and many public squares avoid controversy by not displaying anything in celebration of Christmas, or even Chanukah.

As we were looking for inspiration for our Christmas card this year, we photographed the nearly 300 year old restored Neapolitan Creche at the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, Connecticut. It is believed to have been presented to Victor Amadeus II, King of Sardinia at his coronation in 1720.

When we looked closely at the 68 figures in the 16 foot wide creche, we noticed, like today, many were in awe that they were in the presence of God while others were too busy with their everyday activities to even notice. Some of the faces showed joy, others anger and even contempt because people were making such a big deal about a baby. I guess some things just never change, just times, places and cultures.

It's hard to ignore history and even harder to change it. So, in view of this historical event, we extend to you our warmest Christmas greetings as we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago and is with us each day of our lives regardless of where, or who we are.

Tiffany & Co. to the rescue

2011-12-22T17:05:00.001-05:00

For the first time in years, our Christmas shopping was done with a week to spare. Fortunately we did the bulk of it on the Internet. While I have the enviable reputation of repeatedly getting the parking place closest to the door of any mall the day before Christmas, it doesn't help fight the crowds inside stampeding for the last wrong sized ugly sweater or the last scented Christmas candle that smells more like a Bethlehem stable than a pine tree.

As I cruised the Internet this afternoon, I found most of the online stores where I shopped have switched from, "Order now and get delivery by Christmas," to "Order your gift card online and have it in time for Christmas." In other words, if you haven't bought it yet, there is no way you will have it by Christmas. Sorry guys.

Oh wait a minute, the cutoff for ordering online and delivery by Christmas from Tiffany & Co. is 3:00 p.m., December 23, and they don't even charge for shipping. So, gentlemen there is still time to avoid the traffic, shop at one of the most prestigious stores in the world, and have your gift delivered for free in time for Christmas. She'll say, "Oh honey you shouldn't have," while you'll be thinking, "You're right I shouldn't have, but at least it was free delivery."

We three kings of orient are . . .

2011-12-20T20:28:00.000-05:00

In order to get into the spirit of Christmas this year, we decided to photograph nativities in some of northwestern Connecticut's town squares. We started, of course, at the nativity on the town green in Bethlehem, Connecticut. Lois took a few shots until she realized I was beginning to have conversations with some of the characters and thought it was time to hide behind the manger until I was done. I mean how often does one get to talk to wise men from the East. Passing cars slowed down to watch and listen, but no one interrupted us.

They told me about the star that they had followed and how far they had traveled to pay homage to the infant king that had long been prophesied and to give him some very valuable gifts. They also told me how king Herod had tried to trick them into telling him where Jesus was as he thought the newborn king would usurp his throne. Fortunately, they caught on, Mary and Joseph took Jesus to Egypt, and the Magi left by a different route to avoid Herod.

Is it any wonder that Lois went behind the stable to wait until we were done with our conversation? I look forward to the day when I will have the opportunity to finish the conversation with the Magi in heaven. But then I have so many questions, it will take an eternity to get them all answered.

A loving tribute

2011-11-27T15:40:00.002-05:00

William Whitney Cunningham, Sr., a man whose life was marked by choices and challenges, passed away the day after Thanksgiving this year. To me, he was a friend, advisor and my father-in-law, but to Lois, he was Dad.

As a dentist, Lois's Dad was a perfectionist in his procedures and astute in his business practices. As a teacher at Baltimore School of the Bible, he impacted hundreds, if not thousands, of people around the world. About 50 years ago, he helped launch Congress, an annual evangelical retreat for singles aged 16 and over, at Greenwood Hills Conference Center in Fayetteville, PA. It continues to this day and is still influencing teens and young adults for Jesus Christ long after he stopped being involved.

As a travel agent, he traveled to every continent and more than 130 countries, often at the expense of carriers and hotels seeking his business. I remember when he went to Egypt for a $47, four-day weekend, because it was cheaper than staying home. It was also his first attempt at self-producing a video to entice potential travel clients. Much of it was shot while riding a camel near the pyramids. We politely watched it, but I don't think it sold many tours.

He was a wheeler-dealer, an entrepreneur always ahead of his time, a vintage car collector, and as one nephew describes, "The family's great orator with a phenomenal command of English language, prose, and poems. He ranks along with William F Buckley, with Uncle Billy's heart being a little left of the center."

Another friend said, "My memories of your Dad are of happiest days, and his laughter and fun were contagious."

He was an over achiever who was not always appreciated. It seemed he always had a better, a cheaper, and faster way to do something and could talk anyone else into doing it, whether he pursued it or not. He was never at a loss for words, comments, or opinions. He had plenty and was not shy about sharing them, but doggone it, they were always creative, interesting and often humorous, unless you were the brunt of his ire. If you disagreed with him . . . well, let's just say it wasn't pretty.

He was never one to talk about, or admit, his age. It seems everyone his age was so much "older" than he. For a while, he even stopped "having" birthdays, yet when he turned 80, no one was surprised, just polite. In fact, to celebrate his 80th, he issued a family proclamation that everyone - all 23 children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren - was to go on a free cruise to Bermuda with him. No one had to be asked twice.

He moved to St. Charles, Illinois, near Chicago, this past year to live with Lois' sister, Christie, as his health was rapidly declining. He couldn't see to drive anymore, and he was physically losing strength to diabetes and a weak heart. He joined the local V.F.W. for the first time, rode in the Veterans Day parade, and bought an electric scooter so he could "drive" himself to the nearest Starbucks. Just because he was 87, it didn't mean he had to be old!

Lois had a wonderful conversation with him Monday, just before Thanksgiving, and he was looking forward to gathering with family under the big shade tree on the family homestead at Cuddebackville, New York, to celebrate July 4th next year, an old family custom. Instead, we will gather to spread his ashes and we too, will tell stories about the man who raised my wife and her siblings, and who is known to some as Dad, to others as Poppa Bill ("Grandpa" was an age identifier), and to many as Uncle Bill. He will be missed, but certainly not forgotten.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-22T21:44:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving is the time of year that we celebrate God's bounty to, and protection over our nation, as the Pilgrims did nearly 400 years ago. Just as the master of the vineyard surrounds his prize grapes with a net of protection from outside predators, so are we surrounded by a hedge of protection from our predators. While the media sends a barrage of conflicting political messages about money, military and mismanagement in Washington, we are nevertheless surrounded by a net of protection that no foreign enemy dares to penetrate, at least not for now.

Compared to other nations, we really are a land of plenty, and Thanksgiving is the one day out of the year set aside to commemorate just that. It's a time when families traditionally get together and eat, and eat, and eat. Every family has its favorite turkey recipe that has been passed from generation to generation, even though they only use it twice a year, Thanksgiving and Christmas, and of course each one is the best one ever.

We will justify our gluttony as we will have worked up an appetite going into New York to elbow our way to a front row "seat" for the Macy's Day parade. Others will justify it as preparation to fend off crowds of fellow shoppers on Black Friday. But no matter what our rationale, when we finally push ourselves away from the table we vow to never eat so much again, when in fact, we all know it's just a warm-up for Christmas.

Holiday heat

2011-11-16T20:57:00.001-05:00

This past weekend we returned to Art at Murray Pond, in Killingworth, CT, to photograph Joan Levy Hepburn crafting beautiful hand-blown Christmas ornaments in her glass studio. She's a gifted musician, multifaceted artist, and teacher who excels in a variety of mediums, including glass.

Huddled over a custom made configuration of twenty paired propane fueled torch nozzles facing each other, she carefully applies spaghetti-like colored solid rods of hot glass on top of a bulb of glass that she has just blown from a clear hollow tube. She patiently moves, twists, and spins the ornament to keep the temperature as even as possible while all the time talking around the mouthpiece of the blow hose.

Then, at just the right moment, the talking stops, and her cheeks expand like a jazz trumpeter as she forces air into the open end of the glass tube to give it a little more shape. When the ornament is done, she seals the tube, puts a loop on top, and lets it slowly cool until it's ready to hang on a tree.

Just like glass, if we get heated too fast, we crack and break and are not pleasant to be around. But if we allow ourselves to evenly respond to the heat and become malleable, then slowly cool down, we become that beautiful masterpiece that everyone wants to be with this holiday season.

Veterans' Day 2011

2011-11-11T15:22:00.000-05:00

What was once known as Armistice Day, commemorating the cessation of battle in World War I, has slowly evolved into what we now celebrate each November 11, as Veterans' Day. When President Woodrow Wilson first proclaimed Armistice Day in 1919, he said, "To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country's service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations."

For veterans, it's a day to remember the good, the bad, and the ugly about serving, the people, places and events. But it's also an opportunity for everyone to remember the cost our freedom and thank those who served along with the families of those who gave their lives while serving. Most came back to live "normal" lives; however, many did not, but they all served.

Many joined the military right after graduation from high school or college. To them it was a mark of patriotism and courage, though not fully understanding the concept of "ultimate sacrifice." It was not always a popular career choice, especially in the sixties, and many veterans were shunned, ignored, or ridiculed by some because they were willing to fight and if necessary, kill or be killed in the interest of peace. Vets in my time were uneasy about including their military service on their resumes as it was considered a red flag in the job market.

Conditions have dramatically changed during the past ten or fifteen years. People who know vets, thank them for their service on many holidays, not just Veterans' Day. Many businesses offer our veterans discounts on major remembrance days, and a couple extend the discounts throughout the rest of the year.

As for me, it was an honor to serve. Thanks to all who served with me. I trust you will be honored today as well.

Ice soccer anyone?

2011-11-06T17:21:00.000-05:00

Just over a week ago on Saturday, October 29, 2011, Connecticut was crippled by an early, wet snowfall. Our trees were still full of beautiful yellow and red leaves which unfortunately became weighed down by the snow.

By mid-afternoon, we had lost power and the only sounds we heard were trees and branches cracking and crashing around us under the weight of the wet snow. We were fortunate in that we only lost two large trees along with enough branches to make our front yard look like a field of saplings.

Yes, it was a nuisance, but oh so beautiful. Once we got the maple tree out of our driveway, we could drive around to see the overall impact of the winter storm.

While we love the simplicity and laid back atmosphere of a small town, I’m often amazed at their priorities. I mean, I know soccer is important, but just when the majority of the residents are trying to adjust to life without electricity, the town’s automatic sprinkler system kicked in to keep the playing fields green. Yes, these are the same fields that I blogged about September 15, 2011, when they were under four feet of water, following hurricane Irene. I have to admit, of the two images, this is my favorite.

As for our electricity it came on about an hour ago, eight days and five minutes after it went off. Three minutes later, the First Selectman (Mayor) called asking for our vote in the upcoming election. Hmmmmmmmm.

Free . . . but

2011-10-26T19:40:00.000-04:00

This is the time of the year when we our mailboxes are stuffed with gift catalogs, special sales, buy-one-get-one offers, and buy-now-pay-later deals. And how about those telemarketing calls, regardless of whether you are on the do-not-call list, or not? They all look good on the surface, but when you check closer, you find many are really sticking it to you.

Yesterday, I picked up a call from a telemarketer. Because we do get a couple of Skype and MagicJack calls that we don't want to miss, we are not able to screen all calls with caller ID. I wasn't near a computer, so I could not check the caller's website while I was on the phone. The caller was offering a free month of Internet priority advertising in hope of securing our business on a fee paid basis after that. When I Googled the company, later, I found a host of complaints about their business tactics and ethics. It was a "freebut" offer." You know the kind, free now but,"We're going to stick it to you," on your next telephone bill.

I called the company to cancel the "freebut" service, as I was well within my 72-hour cancellation window. I got some names and promises, but overall minimal satisfaction.

I called the phone company and humbly explained the great "freebut" offer and asked how could I stop the billing. She graciously said, "easy," and immediately put a block on any third party billing to our account. It's something new that phone companies are now allowed to do because of so many "freebut" entrepreneurs that are popping up, especially at this time of the year. (I tried to block AT&T's bill, but she politely refused.)

We always told our kids, "If it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is." Where were they when I needed them to repeat it back to me?

Reflections

2011-10-23T17:09:00.000-04:00

This past week, I was asked to speak to a breakfast group for three minutes regarding our past ten years in Connecticut. As I began to prepare my remarks, my mind bounced all over the place from tragedy to victory. Thursday, I decided to write down various milestones as they came to mind, hoping it would help me focus. It took most of the day, and yet I had barely scratched the surface. Finally, I boiled it down to a two page outline, focusing on the major high and low points. Even that required ten minutes to get through at speaking speed.

Like the picture, there were some fuzzy areas. There were some ripples, some rough spots, when things weren't very clear to us. We lost both of my parents during that time, represented by the reflection of the two dead tree trunks in the water, and yes, there were many clear blue sky areas, too, including the birth of all five of our grandchildren.

While I go through phases of keeping and not keeping a journal, this was different. I found the reflection exercise therapeutic. So many things weren't clear to me when they were happening, but as I reflected on them, I realize in hindsight how blessed we really were.

Try it sometime. Reflect. Just pick a time frame or a key milestone in your life, find a quiet place, and start writing. Count your blessings as you go. At some point, someone will want to know your story, and you will be ready.

Fall in New England

2011-10-15T22:01:00.000-04:00

Every October, we cruise the bi-ways and back-ways in New England chasing the autumn colors. While Columbus Day is the traditional peak for colors, the trees seem to have a mind of their own and will peak whenever they please. Our TV weather personalities show shaded maps every night with areas marked for early color, peak color and past peak. They change earliest in the north and slowly move south toward the coast over the course of a month.

I think this is our week to shoot. The yellows and reds are in and most of the green is out. Perfect! Now, if we can just hold off the rain, we will add a thousand or so images to our fall collection.

Is summer really over?

2011-10-11T18:24:00.000-04:00

Which sounds better, the end of summer or the beginning of fall? It's not an abrupt end as many people mark the end of summer with Labor Day, others, September 21 and still others, when the leaves change. If you're like us, you remember the beginning of summer, but where did the rest of it go?

As you who follow our blog may remember, we marked the beginning of summer this year with lobster rolls at Jimmies of Savin Rock. Yesterday, we returned to mark the end of summer with more lobster rolls, beer, and a hot fudge sundae chaser. Jimmies has become our favorite warm weather place to eat when we want to mark a milestone in time, no matter how minor.

I'm not sure how much longer they keep the patio overlooking Long Island Sound open for lunch, but Labor Day is gone, we are into October, and the leaves are beginning to change. The temperatures were in the 80s yesterday, and it was sunny, but we are now supposed to have three days of rain and daytime temperatures in the 50s. I think the Labor Day/color-change segway is over, and fall has arrived.

Let's talk

2011-10-10T11:36:00.000-04:00

Pick a seat and talk to me, but not just any seat. Pick the seat of your political persuasion, left or right, then, let’s talk.

The way I see it, we have a two party system and a one party, one term (by his own claim), left wing President. He is at the beck and call of the House minority leader and the Senate majority leader, both of his own party not all of whom support him either.

He made a lot of promises during his first presidential campaign, including openness, total transparency, and changing the way Washington works, along with fixing all the major mistakes of the Administration before him. Now well into his next presidential campaign, we are hearing the same stuff but a little more centrist in order to coddle the independent voters, who ultimately control which way the majority swings.

To be fair, I’m not sure what would have happened if John McCain had won the last election. As a Republican, he would have had to satisfy a Democratic majority in Congress before anything could get done, but then so did President Obama. The left would have been openly critical of anything McCain wanted to do just as the right was openly critical of anything President Obama proposed.

In 2009 a group called the Tea Party Patriots began protesting big government and an ineffective Congress. The grass roots movement was originally split evenly among Democrats and Republicans and now represents the ideals of the right including reduction of big government, less regulation, and more free enterprise.

Most recently we have seen the beginning of the Occupy Wall Street movement, another grass roots protest effort, but this time from the left. Essentially, this group is opposed to big business, wants the rich to pay more taxes, and favors more government control and subsidies to close the gap between rich and poor. It has quickly gone from a grass roots organization to one that the Democrats are claiming ownership.

So pick a chair and talk to me. We have a dysfunctional Congress, an ineffective President, two political parties that are so wrapped up in their own ideologies that they have forgotten the interests of their constituents, and two well organized grass roots movements that are diametrically opposed to each other. Where do we go from here?

Oh, before you sit down, think about which chair you’re choosing. If you pick the chair on the left, who is right? If you pick the one on the right, who is left?

Teamsters

2011-10-05T15:41:00.000-04:00

One event that I always look for at a state, or county fair is the horse pull. It's basically a equestrian strength competition that pits teams of work horses against each other to see who can pull a weighted sled fifteen feet. After each pull, a fork lift adds a thousand pounds of solid concrete to the sled and those who made the last cut, pull again until all but one team is eliminated. It's sort of like watching the World's Strongest Man events on TV as men harness themselves to a Boeing 747 and pull it down the runway.

As I watched the horses and their handlers, I was fascinated by their size, their strength, and their focus. They had a mutual respect for each other, and when it was time to perform, everyone knew what to do. Each team of horses would strut to the sled at the command of the handler while a second person would quickly hook the harness to the sled. Instantly the horses would lunge ahead in unison to drag the sled the required fifteen feet. At the end of each round, they would return to their holding area and patiently wait for the next round. Their combined weight was over 3000 pounds, yet the winner dragged 17,000 pounds of concrete across the finish line.

Handlers, trainers, teams, owners and even the audience, were totally focused on the event in the arena. When it came to the pull, everyone was as silent as the gallery at a golf tournament. They were totally focused on the team and the job it had to do. No one moved. No one spoke, or made a noise. No one whistled, cheered, or jeered. They just watched. Once the job was done, everyone applauded.

There is so much for us to learn from these "teamster" workhorses as long as we don't act like the wrong end and think we can do everything ourselves. Then we become that 17,000 ton sled that everyone else on the team has to drag behind them.

Innocence

2011-09-28T12:17:00.001-04:00

Imagine the ringmaster introducing, "Galaxy Girl as she performs acrobatics, handstands and aerial gymnastics on top of a flexible pole 120 feet above the ground. Yes ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Galaxy Girl will take your breath away as she perfectly executes unthinkable stunts on her sway pole with no net, harness or safety apparatus."

The innocence of a child amazes me sometimes. It reminds me of how blissfully unaware a person can be of anything else. As adults we so often have a myriad of things going on in our minds that are more distracting than the event in front of us, but a child can look up and watch a "Galaxy Girl" sway in the air and just enjoy the moment.

As we grow older, I think we yearn more and more for those blissful moments, as brief as they might be. Maybe all we have to do is watch a child.

Up close and personal

2011-09-24T17:40:00.000-04:00

It takes a lot of practice, but one thing I love to do is get up close and personal to photograph someone just having a good time.

I saw this lady at the Big E just clapping and singing to the nostalgic sound of a group on an outdoor stage. I sat down in the empty chair next to her, and we chatted for about thirty seconds, until she was comfortable with me. I just told her to stay in her groove, and she did.

The Big E's Jackie the johnitor

2011-09-22T18:01:00.000-04:00

On those days when you think you've got the crappiest job in the world, and you just want to scream, think of Jackie the johnitor. She is a ladies room attendant at The Eastern States Exposition, or Big E, a mega-state fair for the six New England states. Normally, I would ignore a "Poop" shirt, and certainly would not photograph it, but her job was to keep the ladies room clean, and what a delight she is.

We chatted for a while as she finished lunch at her post. She was thankful for the job that she had and made the best of it. She had a smile for everyone that went in or out, and it was reflected in her full tip bucket.

As for John the johnitor, he wasn't smiling, and neither was his tip bucket.

Wow!

2011-09-21T21:37:00.000-04:00

Monday, we had the opportunity to get up close and personal with a hitch of eight Budweiser Clydesdales at the Eastern States Exposition, or the “Big E,” in West Springfield, Massachusetts. Now, I am not a small person but to me, these horses were huge. Their feet were longer than my size thirteens and twice as wide, but can you imagine what they must look like from stroller height?

Whenever we have one of these rare opportunities, we shoot from all sides and all heights from over our heads and down to our ankles. We photographed their feet, the harnesses, their drivers, the wheels, their noses, and even their bobbed tails. While it may seem like overkill to most people, the results are incredible.

Photographers often develop a level of concentration that seems to bond with the subject as they begin to see nuances and details that no one else sees. From ankle height, behind the hitch, I watched the boy in the stroller until he connected with the massive horse in front of him, and all he could do was say, “Wow!” It was my last shot of the Clydesdales, but it was the best.

Are you ready for some football?

2011-09-17T10:27:00.000-04:00

Finally, the 2011 NFL 2011 season kicked off last week! It seems like we’ve been watching ads for it since the Daytona 500, in February. Weekly football pools abound, odds makers publish their numbers midweek and fantasy football teams are almost as important as the real teams. We turn on the television at noon Sunday and watch games from all over the country until 11 p.m. Monday evening, we are glued once again to the game of the week broadcast all over the world, regardless of who is playing. And, of course, everyone "knows" their team will again, or finally, win the Super Bowl at the end of the season.

One thing that amazes me about football fans is that they establish an unbreakable team loyalty early in life, and they remain loyal regardless of where they live now or how the team performs. We live in a regional market whose loyalties are mixed between the New England Patriots, the New York Jets and the New York Giants, but I was raised in Cleveland, so my heart always goes out to the Browns. We also cheer for any team that beats the Pittsburgh Stealers, Cleveland’s biggest rival.

As for Lois, her identity as a Baltimore Colts fan was stolen many years ago when the team packed up in the middle of the night and was trucked to Indianapolis. She will not recognize that act of piracy, and therefore any team that plays the Colts is effectively playing alone, even though they might lose. The only exception is when they play the Pittsburgh Stealers.

What about you? Have you maintained your hometown loyalty, or did it move when you moved?

Never let a good crisis go to waste.

2011-09-15T14:15:00.000-04:00

Boys will be boys, especially when it comes to water. While I was out photographing the flash floods last week, I drove past one of our local soccer fields and found these guys having a great time on their newly created lake, while it lasted.

Events like these are often our best memories as we look back on the fun we had when we were kids. Like these boys, we never thought about what might be in the water. All we cared about was making the best of the moment. I mean, how often can one canoe across the neighborhood soccer field?

One man, obviously more responsible than me, called out to them when they were doing backflips off the goalie cage and suggested they get out of the water because of the possibility of bacteria. I told him I couldn’t see any through my lens, so he left. Why let the opportunity for a good memory go to waste?

Kent, Connecticut

2011-09-13T12:43:00.000-04:00

Simply elegant is the best way to describe the small northwestern town of Kent, Connecticut. Like so many Litchfield County towns, it's an area where artisans and people of note live who don't want to be noticed. It is also right next to the Appalachian Trail and a common stop for hikers to rest and replenish equipment and supplies before they continue their journey. For one of its fund raisers this year, the town library is selling raffle tickets for a Porsche Boxster. (Note to self: I don't live in Cleveland, or Allentown, anymore.)

Main Street, is pretty much the only street. Old homes are now upscale clothing boutiques, galleries or antique shops, for the most part. There are about three blocks of sidewalk restaurants, delicatessens and coffee shops priced like Manhattan. While they are crowded on the weekends, during the week, locals just sit under the umbrellas and read. Everyone I spoke with was very friendly and enjoyed being photographed, which is unusual.

By the time we finished lunch, we only had an hour left to do a Main Street photowalk. Because we see things differently, Lois went up one side of the street, and I went up the other. After a half hour, we switched sides, and as expected, we each captured images of stuff that the other person never saw. Needless to say, it's a fun place to photograph and just enjoy a peaceful, relaxing afternoon in a town where no one cares who you are, or who you aren't.

Remember 911

2011-09-11T15:03:00.001-04:00

September 11, 2001, is one of those dates that most people, especially in the northeast, remember where they were and what they were doing when we were attacked. My dream executive job had been eliminated a month earlier, and I was on my way to an interview when the World Trade Center towers were hit. When I arrived, I learned that daughter of one of the people that I was to meet with, worked in the World Trade Center. Needless to say the interview was cancelled.

Nearly three thousand lives were lost at the Pentagon, the two World Trade Center towers and on United Airlines flight 93 in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. We were under attack, not by a nation, but by a fanatical group of Islamic terrorists.

While we often focus our attention on the planes that flew into the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon, we need also to remember the untrained instant heroes on flight 93 who overpowered its hijackers enough to divert the plane from its intended target in Washington to crash in a remote Pennsylvania field saving perhaps thousands of lives.

Almost immediately, American air space was shut down. Every plane was ordered to land at the nearest airport and those enroute to the United States had to turnaround or land outside the U.S. Forty international flights landed in remote Gander, Newfoundland, alone. Air Force fighter planes set up a perimeter around Washington, D.C., and were under orders to shoot down any plane, military or civilian, that failed to respond to communications.

Since then, we have been waging a war on terror, not only outside the United States, but within our own borders as well. My Utmost for His Highest author, Oswald Chambers, said in his devotional message for September 10, “Crises always reveal a person’s true character.” I wonder how many people who gave their lives helping others on 9/11 read those words before they went to bed on 9/10.

In the past day or two, there have been more than forty television specials reliving the events of September 11, ten years ago, and the heroic stories of those who lived and died that day. But we must never forget the more than six thousand of our troops who have died in action fighting terrorism in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan since then.

I think one of the greatest tributes to those who responded to the call on 9/11 is that when we are in a moment of crisis, when we need a hero to help us in an emergency, we immediately call 911.

Do cats swim?

2011-09-08T23:24:00.000-04:00

We had a flash flood race through low-lying areas in Southbury today flooding homes, golf courses, athletic fields and pastures in a matter of hours. Everything was fine this morning when people went to work or school, but at eleven o’clock, calls went out to residents near the river telling them to get out as there was a rush of water coming downriver, fast. When we arrived just after noon, the fire marshal was putting in a call to the power company to cut electricity less than a week after it had been restored. It peaked by one o’clock and by five it had receded from all but a few of the low lying homes.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like for someone to come home after working all day only to find their house filled with mud and silt from a flash flood that came and went in the few hours that they were gone. Residents said it was worse than the floods they had after Tropical Storm Irene. In fact, life for most people affected by high water during Irene had just started to return to normal.

I think these two cat bird baths say it all. They were outside the door of a house filled with a couple of feet of river water, for the second time in less than two weeks, and the third time this year. Like the cats, people must be hanging on by their toes to stay afloat, especially when they live on Flood Bridge Road.

The "uncanny" chair.

2011-09-06T18:10:00.000-04:00

Chairs come in all shapes and sizes and are made of every conceivable material known to mankind. Some are designed to never be sat on, and others are designed for us to sit on all day. Some are designed for a specific task, or function, while others just focus on form. And of course, there is that ubiquitous white plastic chair that we find all over the world.

While we all have our favorite chair, there is something special about a rocking chair. A rocking chair is one of those peaceful places that you can go to be alone, to dream, or to get lost in a good book, or in the case of Cracker Barrel Restaurant, make your thirty minute wait for a table more palatable.

We found this rocking chair at our local flea market resting in the middle of a plate. What caught our eye at first was the seat, one end of a tin can. Then we realized someone used the rest of the otherwise useless can to add form by cutting and curling small strips of tin to make the arms, back, legs, and rockers of the chair. It was too large for a dollhouse and too small for a doll, but someone put in a lot of hours shaping it into a chair that had meaning to them.

State of the economy

2011-09-05T20:26:00.000-04:00

There is so much that comes to mind every time I look at this picture. Regardless of your political persuasion, unemployment is high, economic growth is low, and Fed Chairman Bernake's solution is to print more money.

I just hope we never get to the point where we need an ATM next to a gumball machine for that afternoon sugar hit.

Power outage, Connecticut style

2011-09-03T18:27:00.000-04:00

A week ago, tropical storm Irene blew through the Northeast dumping rain and dropping thousands of trees across power lines. Although the storm lasted less than a day, many areas in Connecticut are still without electricity.

The Red Cross came in and set up several shelters around town. They offered not only their customary emergency services but charging stations for cell phones and Ipods, as well as access to Wi-Fi. Everyone that I talked to was coping well with the loss of power, but it seems they all struggled with the loss of Internet access. It was their connection with the outside world that they missed the most.

We went to the library and the parking lot was packed, not with people looking for books, but instead, an Internet connection. There was a white board outside that had the library's rules for charging mobile devices and hooking up to Wi-Fi. Any restaurant or fast food place was packed with people hooking up to the Internet.

I think our favorite was the overflow crowd outside our local Starbucks on Main Street. The staff inside doubled in size to keep the cappuccinos flowing. No one was concerned about losing power, just connecting with their friends online.

Blast from the past . . . really!

2011-08-18T16:14:00.001-04:00

The Experimental Aviation Association's restored B-17 Flying Fortress paid a visit to our local airport this past weekend. It was a rare opportunity to board and walk, or crawl, through one of the greatest airplanes in our military history. It's easy to understand why it was called a flying fortress.

More than 12,000 were built for the U.S. military by Lockheed and Boeing during World War II. The first war production models went from design to completion in less than a year. Each of the four engine prop bombers cost a little more than a quarter of a million dollars to build and their only defense was eight 50 caliber machine guns.

While they were designed to fly for ten hours at a time, they were totally void of any of the comforts that we require for a one hour flight. There was no sound proofing, no insulation, no padded seats, no peanuts, and certainly no room to stretch out or walk around with more than two tons of bombs and thousands of rounds of ammunition on board. In fact, when the bomb bay doors opened to drop its payload, a third of the plane's floor disappeared and you could see the ground 10,000 feet below your feet.

Here is the link to its fall tour schedule. They do charge a small admission fee, but if you are a veteran, it's free. Yes, you can book a half hour flight, but the fee is considerably higher and there is a waiting line, so it must be worth it!

Simplicity

2011-08-10T22:54:00.000-04:00

In one of my former business lives, I worked for the director of interior design for a very upscale office furniture manufacturer. While he was passionate about furniture form and function in the work environment, when it came to designing an office space, he always said, “Simplicity is the essence of design.”

I have been out of that industry for twenty- five years now, but his words formed an indelible impression on my mind. And what could be simpler than the shadow of a chair on a floor mat. Upside down, it is only a form, but right side up, it has function.

So often, we work so hard, to make things so perfect, that we destroy the original concept, and the message is lost. It just seems ironic that so many people strive for degrees, titles, accolades, and recognition by others, yet our imaginations are stimulated by the mystery of something as basic as the shadow of a chair. My boss had it right, “Simplicity is the essence of design.”

Jars of clay

2011-08-06T12:48:00.001-04:00

They are just clay pots, but like us, each one is different. Some are larger than others. Some are tall and others are not. Some have small mouths and others are more pronounced. Some have a spout to make it easier to pour out their contents. Some have handles to hold while others need to be hugged. Some are cool, and some are warm. It's hard to see inside some of the pots, especially the ones hidden in the back, but they all have scars and markings covered by a glaze. Some we see, and some we don't, but the potter knows them all.

We took a journey to a potter's house one day to photograph him at work. He talked about his pots as if they were his family. He would pick one up and look at it, then he would talk about it. As he spoke, I photographed. Tall, short, round, scarred, warm or cool, he could describe each one. We saw form and function, but he knew their character.

So often we are quick to make judgments and form opinions about people just by looking at them without taking the time to know their character, but like these jars of clay, each one of us is a treasure in the eyes of the master potter.

Opportunity

2011-07-23T18:25:00.000-04:00

Summer is an opportunity to stick your toes or your whole body in the surf to cool off. It's the only time of year that you can do it. So find a pool, river, lake, ocean, or air conditioned restaurant and cool off.

Just think, in another month, we will be checking home heating oil prices and looking for firewood to keep us warm this winter. Home improvement stores will be putting gas grills on sale to make room for new models of snow blowers and sporting goods stores will clear out their summer inventories to stock up for winter sports.

If you think of each season as an opportunity to do something you couldn't do six months earlier, your world will be a much happier place.

Free as a butterfly

2011-07-21T17:07:00.000-04:00

Comedian George Carlin once said, "The caterpillar does all the work but the butterfly gets all the publicity."

The caterpillar really does get a bad rap in life. He (or she) is that creepy little crawly thing with more than 4000 muscles (man has 629) that we see wiggling through our gardens and eating holes in our plants. As it matures, it builds a cocoon around itself and soon emerges as a beautiful butterfly. It sleeps late and gets up when the sun warms its wings. Its destructive nature of the past is gone, and it now sips nectar from the beautiful plants it sought to destroy before.

As I reflect on the words of George Carlin, I can't help but think of how many varieties of "butterflies" cross our paths every day. No one knows how much work and energy it took to make that butterfly. No one knows how many close calls, the crises and struggles that the caterpillar had during its life.

In the end, all we see is the butterfly. Some draw our attention more than others, but each is beautiful in its own way as it flitters from place to place, stopping occasionally for a little sweet nectar.

Heat wave? What heat wave?

2011-07-19T22:26:00.000-04:00

It’s hard to believe that just six months ago the heat index was about a hundred degrees cooler than now, but kids don’t care. Our granddaughter, Halle, is just as comfortable at the beach in July as she was here in January with a couple of feet of snow.

Some people always wish for the opposite season, regardless of the season. When it’s warm, they want it cold, and when it’s cold, they want it warm. Others just keep smiling, no matter what the season. How about you?

Top banana

2011-07-18T14:27:00.000-04:00

Did you know that bananas are actually berries of the largest herbal flower in the world? According to the Washington Banana Museum (yes really!), we eat 26 pounds of bananas annually, which really isn't much when you think about it. We peel them from the top down or the bottom up. We make, banana splits, bananas Foster, banana milkshakes, chocolate dipped bananas, frozen bananas, banana bread, and we even slice them for our morning cereal.

People who hang out together begin to look and act like each other, and in fact, they seem so attached that they have a tough time separating themselves from the rest of the bunch. We lose sight of who they really are and how they can be used, their unique qualities are lost in the identity of the group until, that is, someone breaks out of the bunch and becomes top banana.

Superman's point of view

2011-07-14T18:14:00.000-04:00

"Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" But, did you ever wonder what it was really like from his point of view? I mean how about soaring through the grand canyons of a grand city forty stories above street level? All you can see below are the rooftops of yellow cabs and black limousines.

Now I don’t mind heights as long as they are safe. I’ve gone up in man lifts, planes and cranes to photograph buildings, bridges and dams, but unlike Superman, I’m always attached. The downside of looking from above is losing sight of people. The higher we go, the smaller and more similar they become. We can no longer hear them. In fact, we can barely see them as they scurry from point A to B. We lose sight of their uniqueness, their personalities, their skills, and who they really are.

The same is so often true in life. The higher that people move in their career or social status, the less significant those who helped get them to the top become. Whenever I was lifted or hoisted up high to look down, I always rewarded the person at the controls, the one who got me there. After all, my life was in their hands, and they could make my ride as rough, or as smooth as they wanted too, depending on how I treated them.

I know it takes some of the “super” out of the “man,” but everyone needs a little help getting to the top. Just don’t forget who put you there.

Need a hug?

2011-07-12T22:27:00.000-04:00

Did you ever have one of those Judith Viorst, “terrible, horrible, no good very bad days?” One of those days when you just needed a hug, from anybody! Australian, Juan Mann, actually started a free hugs campaign where he stood on a busy street corner in Sydney and offered free hugs to anyone in need. Within fifteen minutes, he was getting hugs from numerous strangers who were going through some really tough times.

Despite his compassion, he was soon banned from public hugging for liability reasons, believe it or not. But the campaign continued to spread. If you are brave enough and have a strong sense of compassion, do it. Just make sure no one walks off with your watch or wallet after a hug or you will need one yourself.

Maybe that’s why Alexander wanted to move to Australia. He heard someone was offering free hugs after a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

Madison Avenue shopper

2011-07-11T22:44:00.000-04:00

One of the fringe benefits of photographing in New York City is the joy of photographing people totally absorbed in what they are doing, regardless of what is going on around them. But, we also tend to make judgments about who they are, often assuming the worst.

I found this lady on Madison Avenue in midtown Manhattan counting her change outside Hermes of Paris. I photographed her because I thought she was a street person who was out of her element, but when I got home and looked at her more closely, I noticed how impeccably dressed she was and the knuckle-to-knuckle gold ring on her hand. She wasn’t out of her element, she was right at home. In fact, the next place I saw her was a couple of blocks away, outside the Ferrari dealership on Park Avenue.

Pursuit

2011-07-09T23:39:00.000-04:00

For old time's sake, I spent this morning trekking through four miles of trails at the Bent of the River Audubon Center with about twenty members of the Connecticut Butterfly Society. I thought it was going to be a nice little lecture about monarch and swallow tail butterflies and then go outside and see if we could find a few. But no, these guys were in serious pursuit of catching and identifying anything that flew, except birds.

They could identify every variety of dragon fly and could tell the difference between a male and female orange sulfur butterfly fifty feet over their heads, but because it was a mixed group, I didn't ask what the discerning difference was. I just used my imagination and took them at their word.

The last time I went butterfly hunting was more than fifty years ago for my a ninth grade science project. I think I had a choice of dissecting a frog, collecting rocks, or catching butterflies. I chose to capture butterflies in a net put them in a jar of tetrachloride to die and then stick pins through them to mount each one on a board under glass. I'm not sure how many I really caught, or how many I used from my brother's same assignment six years earlier to fill in the gap.

Busy as a bee.

2011-07-07T21:00:00.002-04:00

One thing that has always amazed me about summer, is how many things that we regularly do all fall, winter and spring are cancelled for the summer because "everyone" is too busy. Yes, people take off for the weekends, go on daycations and some are fortunate enough to take vacations, but not everybody.

Some clients say, "Come back in the fall when we are in full swing," but then it's budget time and so they ask if we wouldn't mind postponing our meeting until winter. "Business is slower then," they say, "Besides, our budgets should be approved, and we'll know how much we can spend next year."

Ah yes, that ubiquitous "next year," but as I recall when we went through this same scenario last year, our winter meeting was cancelled because of snow, so we moved it to spring. The spring meeting never really happened as everyone was busy as a bee trying to get their projects done before summer hit when everything gets cancelled anyway.

Next time you see a bee around a plant loaded with blossoms, watch how it moves from flower to flower checking to see if any friends beat it to the pollen. They get frustrated when there is nothing left, but they always move on to the next one, and the next one in a very predictable pattern. They never give up, they just keep on looking until eventually they find the one that the early bee missed. It finally finds the pollen lode, the one no one else saw, because it was so persistent.

As for me, I can learn a lot from a bee. How about you?

The Power of Independence

2011-07-04T15:55:00.000-04:00

Today, in 1776, fifty-three brave men representing thirteen colonies signed their names to the Declaration of Independence and totally changed the way they would be governed.

I would encourage you to read all 1320 words of this historic document and put it into context with our nation's progress over the past 235 years and where we are today. Some will think we are right on track, others will think the document is passé, and some may even want to resubmit it to Congress, but I guess that's what our independence is all about.

"Now wait."

2011-06-21T21:43:00.000-04:00

One of our daughters always used to say, “Now wait.” It was one of those useless annoying statements that was always in response to our wanting her to go somewhere or do something. “Now wait,” she would reply. Naturally, as parents, we had developed an equally annoying set of responses that eventually wore the statement into oblivion, never to be said again, until now, that is, when I need it to photograph.

It seems that no matter how dark it may be, there is always light, we just have to wait until it builds up enough in the camera to create an image. This particular image of a white hydrangea was captured in a 52 second exposure, with the help of a few swipes of a flashlight, more than an hour after the sun had gone down. My camera was actually beginning to talk back to me after a long day of shooting, as if it wanted to quit and go home. But I said, “Now wait,” I just need 52 more seconds of your time.

Finally, that annoying statement of so many years ago meant something.

Dandelion, weed or wildflower?

2011-06-18T22:51:00.000-04:00

It was suggested today that I mow the lawn or else rent a bailer next week before I cut it, but as I looked out over my carefully manicured field of yellow and green, I thought it was time to declare the ever present dandelion a wildflower that should not be recklessly mowed down like common grass. I chose to admire its beauty for at least another day.

To justify my decision, I did a Google search to support my wildflower theory and to see if is used for anything other than dandelion wine. I was blown away by what I found. So, sit back and read on to see if you should mow or harvest your field of yellow.

The fresh juice of Dandelion is applied externally to fight bacteria and help heal wounds. The plant has an antibacterial action, inhibiting the growth of Staphococcus aureus, pneumococci, meningococci, Bacillus dysenteriae, B. typhi, C. diphtheriae, proteus. And if that wasn’t enough, the latex contained in the plant sap can be used to remove corns and warts.

Dandelion is also used for the treatment of the gall bladder, kidney and urinary disorders, gallstones, jaundice, cirrhosis, hypoglycemia, dyspepsia with constipation, edema associated with high blood pressure and heart weakness, chronic joint and skin complaints, gout, eczema and acne. As a tonic, Dandelion strengthens the kidneys. An infusion of the root encourages the steady elimination of toxins from the body. Dandelion is a powerful diuretic but does not deplete the body of potassium.

Dandelion can be used as a tonic and blood purifier, for constipation, inflammatory skin conditions, joint pain, eczema and liver dysfunction, including liver conditions such as hepatitis and jaundice.

When placed in a paper bag with unripe fruit, the flowers and leaves of Dandelion release ethylene gas ripening the fruit quickly. A liquid plant food is made from the root and leaves. A dark red dye is obtained from Dandelion root. A cosmetic skin lotion made from the appendages at the base of the leaf blades distilled in water, is used to clear the skin and is effective in fading freckles.

Dandelion is a very easily grown plant, it succeeds in most soils and my lawn, of course. So now, I’m beginning to wonder if there is a viable market for my precious and abundant yellow wildflowers growing randomly throughout my yard. Should I mow or harvest? Only time will tell, unless of course Lois tells me first. Then I guess I’ll have to wait for a new crop next week.

A man in a window

2011-06-16T16:48:00.000-04:00

I have had the unique opportunity to photograph thousands of people in every culture and every social class over the years. While a who's who list of subjects is nice if you're compiling a "gee-whiz" list, or a client list, one thing that is so personally rewarding is visiting a third world culture to capture the images of people who are so thankful for what little they have.

First time travelers are always concerned about the culture shock of seeing people with so little when we have so much. I tell them the real culture shock is when they come home and realize how much they have in comparison.

This man lives in a 300 square foot home in Teupasenti, Honduras. There are just two doors and one window with no glass or screens. Inside there is a chair, a bed, wash basin, one light bulb and an antique Singer treadle sewing machine by the window. He's the town tailor. I don't know his name, and neither of us spoke each other's language, but somehow we communicated.

We had a nonverbal connection that seemed to transcend language. It created a bond of trust that freed him to show a sense of peace, satisfaction and accomplishment on his face. He was a man of character, a proud man despite his "poverty." You see, unlike so many of us, he doesn't know what he doesn't have.

To see more of my friends, take a look at our portfolio "People we meet," on our website.

The Sydney Opera House

2011-06-15T22:22:00.000-04:00

Empty beaches are fascinating places, especially in spring before local residents have had a chance to clean up the driftwood, seaweed, and seashells washed ashore by winter tides. They are great places to carry a camera and look for the patterns and shapes of nature. Many people tend to focus on crashing surf, fishermen, and lonely individuals walking their dogs at the edge of the surf. While they do set a mood or a tone, we tend to look down most of the time to see what’s right in front of our toes.

Danish architect, Jorn Utzon, designed the Sydney Opera House based on the shape of a simple sea shell. Yet it is one of the most recognizable architectural structures in the world and is in fact, one of the architectural wonders of the world, too. I’m not sure where his design originated, but I think God beat him with this prototype on the beach in Milford, Connecticut.

Do you see what I see?

2011-06-09T00:04:00.000-04:00

Some would call this the good life. Others would say, “Is that all there is?” Some people watch people, like the two on the right, and other people just watch, like the gentleman on the left. In either case there is nothing like a bench at the beach to watch every kind of humanity known to humanity, or to just sit and stare at the ocean and dream, or perhaps remember great times from the past.

These three people fascinated me as I watched them watch. Sometimes they spoke. Sometimes they just watched. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were related to each other, how often they came to sit on their boardwalk bench, where they lived, what kind of life they had lived, where had they traveled and what were some of the best memories of their past?

There’s a part of me that wants to know, and for those of you who know me, you’re probably wondering why I didn’t ask them and photograph them from the front. But this time, I really didn’t want to know the answers. Instead, I too just wanted to enjoy the scene in front of me.

Bald is beautiful.

2011-06-07T19:55:00.000-04:00

Bald really is beautiful in so many ways, and nothing gets your attention more than the penetrating stare of the American bald eagle. Is it any wonder why it was chosen as America’s symbol more than two hundred years ago? We see him on our money, our national seal, and our military emblems. He’s recognized all over the world as a grand symbol of power and freedom.

So, next time you want to poke fun at someone’s baldness, think of the penetrating, steely-eyed stare of the American bald eagle, and most of all, remember he’s at the top of the food chain, and you are not.

Jimmies on Savin Rock

2011-06-03T20:49:00.001-04:00

When you live along the coast, you have to enjoy seafood, or at least pretend to enjoy it. One of the New England rites of passage from spring to summer is eating a lobster roll and french fries at Jimmies on the beach in West Haven, Connecticut. There are a few brave souls lying in the sun and below the still cool wind, but the strollers are out, seniors are sitting on park benches, and it seems everyone has at least one dog on a leash.

Jimmies is perhaps our favorite local outdoor restaurant. We have been there in the winter and watched the cold breakers roll in from a booth inside, but it is nothing like sitting at a table under an umbrella next to the boardwalk in summer.

It’s a great place to sit and photograph people as they go past. Sometimes they catch me and wonder what I’m doing, but usually they just ignore me. Try it sometime, but if you’re a little shy about getting caught, just put your lobster roll on the rail beside your table and pretend you’re photographing your lunch. It works every time

Raptor sunset

2011-06-01T18:00:00.000-04:00

What started out as an evening of tagging horseshoe crabs during mating season ended up being an evening of photographing along the Connecticut shoreline at dusk. The tagging event was scheduled to start at 7:30 and last an hour, but I think word spread through the crab community and they decided to come out later to party, after we left.

Photographing the sun setting over water on the East coast is a challenge, but there are enough inlets and marshes to make it interesting. I found this pair of nesting Osprey on a platform above a salt marsh adjacent to the Audubon Society of Connecticut's Milford, facility. One posed and the other couldn't be bothered.

Old soldiers

2011-05-30T18:03:00.000-04:00

There seems to be a lifelong camaraderie among veterans that crosses all age barriers, ethnicities, religions, and branches of the military. It's like an unspoken brotherhood of people who at one time said they were willing to give their lives fighting for the freedoms that so many fought for ahead of us. Many survived and many did not.

Memorial Day primarily honors those who served, but did not survive. Veterans and families alike remember those who paid the ultimate price. As for those of us who did survive, we all have memories. We all have our favorite stories of the fun that we had, the grueling drills and exercises, and war games that we didn't take as seriously as our commanding officers did, while others still bear the emotional and physical scars of combat.

As for me, I just want to say thanks to everyone else who served, or are still serving, and especially to the surviving families of those who fell in combat.

Git-r-done!

2011-05-28T22:26:00.000-04:00

Can you tell I just finished watching an episode of Larry the Cable Guy? What a riot. “Get-r-done” has got to be one of the most common phrases heard by married men on a holiday weekend Saturday, like today. All those “honey-do” projects that we weekend warriors have been putting off all spring, or perhaps carrying over from last spring, are suddenly nailed to our escape door where we can’t miss them.

As for me, the list continues into the remaining days of the weekend. I spent the afternoon cuddling the air conditioning ductwork in our attic hoping for a leak of cool air as I laid flooring in the afternoon heat so we could store more stuff. Then it was mix and spray three gallons of bug spray around the perimeter of the house before the ants retaliate with people spray to get rid of us. Yes, we bought the primer, spray paint and sandpaper for a few other projects, too, and I know there are more when those are done.

Now you know why I like winter. As long as I can keep ahead of the mouse population, keep the driveway clear, and bring in the firewood, the “honey-do” list disappears until spring. What’s on your list for this weekend.

Chalk walk

2011-05-25T22:27:00.000-04:00

How cool is this! I have heard of chalk talks but never chalk walks, until this year. As a kid, I never wrote anything on sidewalks before dark, and angry parents always washed it off the next morning. Now it’s not only acceptable, but many cities have set aside a special day for artists of all skills to claim a few sections of concrete on the town green to create their own chalk masterpiece.

Danbury, Connecticut, held its annual chalk walk this past Saturday. In less than three hours, hundreds of people created mini-masterpieces around the town green. There were couples, families, dads and daughters, and dads and sons. Some were skilled artists like this couple and others, well, not so much. It was a rare opportunity to see a gallery, albeit a sidewalk gallery, emerge from the concrete. But like so many things lately, an hour later it was all washed away by a torrential downpour never to be seen again, until next year, maybe.

I guess sidewalk masterpieces are like sandcastles. People put so much joy and effort into their creations knowing full well that they will be destroyed the first time that water hits them. But like sandcastles, it’s not the end result that’s important; it’s that brief escape from reality that really matters.

"Must-have" travel souvenirs

2011-05-24T13:46:00.000-04:00

Wherever we travelled on vacation as a family when I was growing up, we would only stop at restaurants with a gift shop attached, or at least within walking distance. My mother would always buy something blue. It didn't matter what it was, as long as it was blue. Fortunately, she had good taste, so it was never too high on the tacky scale, but it was always blue.

Other families collect stuff--thimbles, spoons, teacups, tee shirts, hats, postcards, scarves, hotel towels, sea shells, and the list goes on. People buy racks, shelves, display cases, and books to show their collections to any willing friends. Some people start a new collection of something every couple of years, and end up trying to pawn them off as collectables in a tag sale, or yard sale. Flea market vendors have tables full of one-of-a-kind "collectables" that smell like they were forgotten in someone's barn for forty years or so.

So what is your vacation travel collection? Something tacky? Something useful, or just whatever looks beautiful to you? Whatever it is, I'm sure it's valuable.

Dad and Dylan

2011-05-20T20:25:00.000-04:00

My father was not a dog person to say the least, but my father-in-law is. We were going through some images from 2006 for a special project and found Lois's dad and Dylan. They seemed to understand each other, which is all that mattered. They were good buddies and had many couch conversations between naps.

In his opinion, Dad is a virtual fountain of knowledge about nearly any topic, and in reality, he usually is. He has traveled to more than 130 countries and every continent. He has an incredible memory for facts and details, as well, along with a repertoire of useless, but interesting, trivia. I guess that's why he and Dylan had so much to talk about.

Dad now lives outside of Chicago with Lois' sister, Christie, and her husband Tom. Dylan is gone, but the stories live on, and on.

Man's best friend . . . really?

2011-05-18T14:27:00.000-04:00

A dog is a man’s best friend except when it rains, and the dog needs to go outside. Suddenly, the roles are reversed, the good life becomes real life, and man becomes a dog’s best friend. After all, when a dog has to go, it really has to go.

I saw this dog and his dedicated friend on Main Street one rainy day. The dog has him so well trained that they actually drive to the shopping center parking lot to walk in the rain. I’m not sure they communicated very well as I never did see the dog stop, despite the fact that they walked past trees, lampposts and fire hydrants before they got back in the car and went home.

It’s days like this that I’m thankful for an invisible fence and a dog that doesn’t like rain. When she has to go, it’s out the door and right back inside again.

Wanna get away?

2011-05-16T14:46:00.000-04:00

There's something about a man and his dog that is so iconic about "the good life." We are so busy with the "busyness" of life that we seldom take time to get rid our baggage, go away somewhere and relax. It may only be a few hours, but we need that downtime to recharge our brain. For some it may be a round of golf to divert their focus, for others a long run to clear their head, and for others a mindless retreat into the pages of a book, a real book with paper pages, not another electronic device with a screen full of words.

As for me, when I want to get away, just give me a camera and drop me off somewhere. Anywhere. I'm as comfortable photographing people in Times Square or a flea market, as I am trees in the woods. They are all relaxing to me, even though they are totally different.

I spotted this man and his dog enjoying the good life fly-fishing from their canoe on the Pomperaug River here in Southbury. The dog was soaked from jumping into the river, and the striped bass were biting like crazy. They had been fishing together ever since the dog was a puppy. It was their time to get away and enjoy "the good life."

So where do you go when you "wanna" get away? What is "the good life" place for you?"

Spring

2011-05-10T18:32:00.000-04:00

Even though it's the first part of May, and I know we shouldn't get any more snow, I am always the last one on our street to pull up the stakes that mark the edge of our driveway for snow removal and to mow the lawn. But before I do either of those tasks, I make an annual pilgrimage to the Laurel Ridge planting to walk among millions of daffodils spread across acre after acre of rolling hills. Then I know spring has officially arrived.

In 1941, Litchfield Connecticut residents, Remy and Virginia Morosani, planted ten thousand daffodils on a section of their farm that was too rocky for raising crops. Each year since then the daffodil population has doubled in size and now the planting is one of the most brilliant natural displays of spring that you can imagine.

As I look at the path that wanders off the top of the ridge, I can't help but wonder what's ahead for the rest of the year. Is it a path that I want to follow, or should I just stay here and appreciate the beauty that I can see?

Rite of passage

2011-05-05T20:40:00.000-04:00

There seems to be a certain rite of passage for a young boy as he makes the transition from childhood to a genuine Yankees fan. There is no mistaking the brand new Yankee pinstripes and it takes a very special set of ears to hold up his new hat. He's still too young to understand the strategy and the stats. He's there to bond with his dad.

Eventually, he'll grow into the hat, but for now it's not so much the thrill of the game as it is the thrill of the moment, the moment his dad said, "Hey son, ya wanna go to a Yankees game?" Only a Red Sox or Mets fan would turn that down.

A little birdie told me . . .

2011-05-03T17:16:00.000-04:00

How often have we used this little quote to pass along a little tidbit of information or use it as an excuse to tell someone something about their character that perhaps is a little awkward otherwise?

It sound a little gossipy sometimes, but if you look at its origin in Ecclesiastes 10:20, the King's English makes it sound so proper, "For a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter." Try that line next time you want to pass along some information, or just plain tattle.

Easter hang-up

2011-04-24T00:08:00.000-04:00

There are so many emotions tied in with the celebration of Easter. On Good Friday we actually celebrate the crucifixion of the Son of God. Historians tell us death by crucifixion is perhaps the cruelest, most inhumane form of execution ever devised by man, yet in the case of Jesus we celebrate it because of what it meant for all mankind. While it doesn't diminish the suffering, it does give it purpose.

Today, we celebrate an empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus. It really has nothing to do with new clothes or a parade on Fifth Avenue. It has more to do with understanding the key to opening the door to salvation and eternal life.

So, don't get hung-up on what you look like on the outside. Instead, pay attention to what is happening on the inside.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow

2011-04-23T15:51:00.000-04:00

Yesterday we remembered the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Today there is an empty cross and tomorrow, an empty tomb. It all coincides with spring when we celebrate new life and new growth, following a long winter.

For some it's the one time of the year that they go to church to worship, and for others it's an opportunity to celebrate why they go to church every week and worship. It's a time to remember who gave us new life, in fact, eternal life.

Working hands

2011-04-20T10:33:00.000-04:00

For the past couple of months, we have been working on two illustrations of Ephesians 2:10 in the New Testament. In essence the verse says that we are God's workmanship, His art, His masterpiece. We were created by His own hands. While I realize that not everyone shares the same faith as Lois and I, this artwork is nevertheless a personal project of hands that I hope all will appreciate.

As I have photographed people's hands in many parts of the world, I have come to realize that God placed these words and a camera in my hands so that I would, "Perpetuate His memory to all generations, so that all nations will praise His name for ever and ever." Ps. 45:17

The composite 16x20 print includes not only my hands, but 130 thumbnail prints of working hands of people from British royalty, to Hollywood and Honduras, Bermuda, Thailand, and all over the United States. They include blacksmiths, potters, mechanics, illustrators, the NFL, race drivers, gardeners, musicians, pit crews, moms, dads, grandparents, and newborns, just to name a few - really! Oh, and like Norman Rockwell, I'm in the upper right corner.

Lois worked on a separate illustration of the same verse. Both framed pieces will hang along with others at Wellspring Church, in Kensington, CT, for a year beginning next month.

A new personal project

2011-04-18T22:34:00.000-04:00

It seems every photographer has a personal project of one kind or another. Some people photograph ironic road signs, others iconic farm signs, and still others, photograph people engaged in a specific occupations or trades. Some take one photograph a day in a certain area, but they do it every day. One friend photographs remote houses and dwellings all over the world.

I've got a few subjects that I watch out for whenever I shoot. If you have been following our blog, you are probably aware by now that I like to photograph hands, barns, people on the street, and patterns. In fact, we just finished a very cool project with nearly 200 hand images in one 16x20 inch framed print. The images were selected from among thousands that I have photographed over the past ten years. It brought back many wonderful memories of some amazing people.

A few weeks ago when we were site scouting for our next photography workshop, we found this S-shaped raised walkway. Now we have a new personal project - find all the letters of the alphabet in our daily environment. Any suggestions?

Sunshine

2011-04-14T14:02:00.000-04:00

Today is one of those clear and beautiful early spring days with a few puffy clouds and lots of sunshine. For me, whenever I hear the word "sunshine," I think of the firstborn of our three daughters. While I had a term of endearment for each one, I called the first one, Sunshine. It just seemed to fit.

Now, she and her husband are raising their own two daughters who seem to be running on an infinite supply of solar power.

So, who is the "sunshine" in your life?

Evening prayer

2011-04-11T20:46:00.000-04:00

Some people will go to any height for evening prayer, but a steeplejack? Steeplejacks are rarer than chimney sweeps, but just as iconic, and they certainly need prayer in that kind of business.

We really were driving home from scouting a local new workshop location when we saw these guys setting up their ladders to get to the roof and finally the top of the steeple to set up their rigging. I returned near dusk and they were merrily swinging in the breeze scraping and sanding the steeple to prep it for painting tomorrow.

Just another reason to always carry a camera.

If barns could talk.

2011-04-09T17:20:00.001-04:00

I never found a barn I didn't like. Every barn has a story, and my kids will be the first to agree, I've got a boatload of stories. I can spend hours with an old barn, and the more weathered, the better. They have so much character and beauty, and yet, they are so simple and plain.

I only had a few minutes with this one, but I want to go back and look for faces and patterns in the wood, the big old barn hinges, cracked windows, sagging roof line, the door hardware. What is its secret to a long life? If these walls could only talk, what stories would they tell?

Next time you see a barn, stop and walk around it. Take time to appreciate its beauty and character. Imagine what kind of life it must have had.

Now, that's a wrap!

2011-04-07T17:49:00.000-04:00

Remember when you were a kid and your mom always reminded you to wear your "wraps," or "make sure you are all wrapped up." It didn't matter if you were the only one in class still wearing a -30 degree down coat in April. How weird! I can understand gift wrap, and "that's a wrap," or a Caesar salad wrap on a menu, but wrap a kid?

I'm just thankful my mother never wrapped me up like these trees. "It's springtime and I've still got my wraps on! Let me out of here! None of my friends on the other side of the wall have to wear wraps."

Can you imagine being wrapped in burlap all winter? Furthermore, if the government closes down this weekend, who knows when it will get unwrapped as these trees are in a national historic site maintained by the National Park Service.

Signs of spring

2011-04-06T23:16:00.000-04:00

For some it’s the crocus. For others it’s a couple of weeks of warm weather, but for me it’s falling snow fences. Every fall, many people unroll their wooden snow fences to break the winter wind and keep the snow from drifting on a walkway, driveway, or perhaps against their house or barn.

No matter how many thousands of dollars people spend landscaping and manicuring their properties throughout the year, they have one thing in common with everyone else, the ubiquitous red slatted snow fence randomly stretched across their property in hope of showing God where they want the snow piled instead of where He wants it piled. But as winter wears on, the snow falls, the wind blows and the fences finally fall over.

The way I look at it, once the snow fence gets tired of winter, it falls down and winter is really over.

Piano lessons

2011-03-31T20:33:00.000-04:00

Did you have to take Piano lessons when you were a kid? I did, but I made sure they didn't last long. I think I got to four fingers simultaneously going in opposite directions on the keyboard, and that was it. Oh, I learned to read music fairly well, but when notes on the treble cleft were on or between different lines of the staff on the bass cleft, I lost it. I guess that's why my parents got me a clarinet.

Like any beginning clarinetist, I spent months squeaking and squawking as I butchered the most basic of songs. But, I eventually got it, and managed to stick with it through most of high school. I remember our Mr. Wetlaugher, our band director, switched me over to bassoon for a few months to expand my music skills, but that took me right back to the bass cleft, and I was always two notes plus one octave lower than the rest of the band. It took me a while to understand why he kept putting his hand in his shirt. He was turning off his hearing aid. He could still keep time; he just couldn't bear to listen.

I did take up classical guitar for a bunch of years after that, but what I miss the most is piano. I wish I had fifty years of practice behind me so I could now play more than my CD player. Maybe I'll take up the iPod, instead.

The Touch Of The Master's Hand

2011-03-28T10:02:00.000-04:00

'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.

"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar, then, two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three . . ."

But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low, said:
"What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.

"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
"Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
"Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going and gone."said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand, what changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply:
"The Touch Of The Master's Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.

A 'mess of potage,' a glass of wine;
A game - and he travels on.
He is 'going' once, and 'going' twice,
He's 'going' and almost 'gone'.

But the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's Hand.
by Myra B. Welch

Is it work or is it play?

2011-03-23T17:55:00.001-04:00

Is it work or is it play? So often what is work for one person is play for someone else, and sometimes our play becomes our work, or our vocation. For example, a child seeing a block or toy car for the first time works to understand it and make it move, yet for an older child, or an adult, it’s play.

How many people do you know whose hobby eventually became their profession? I’m not talking about the child who excelled in music and became a concertmaster by the time they were 25. No, it’s those who studied and pursued one career path while perfecting a skill or developing a product in their garages during the evening. How many artisans developed their skills at home before “going public?” The “play” of many jewelers, artists, cabinetmakers, and of course, writers and photographers eventually became their work. Just think how different our lives would be today without the entrepreneurial efforts of Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, and Ronald Wayne who developed the Apple computer in their garage. Don't forget Bill Gates and Microsoft, or most recently, Facebook's Mark Zuckerburg.

Photography was my “play” in the Navy, and later, I honed my skills in the darkroom of a master photographer while in college. But I spent more than twenty five years in the corporate world before I turned my "play" into my "work." It's one of the most satisfying things that I have ever done. How about you?

Laughter shared

2011-03-10T16:21:00.000-05:00

There’s nothing like spontaneous laughter among friends to relieve tension and stress. We often get dragged down emotionally because we aren’t as successful as someone else or have as much money as someone else. We live in a performance based culture that so often focuses on staying ahead of everyone else without counting the consequences.

I spent this past weekend with more than 500 men at the Homestead Resort in Hot Springs, Va. They came from all over the U.S. and as far away as New Zealand. They came from all walks of life. There were doctors, lawyers, authors, performers, investment bankers, pastors, veterans, academy cadets. Some were millionaires and seemed to have it all while others had been millionaires and had lost it all. Many had beautiful homes and families and others had lost them, too. But one thing we all shared was our love for God.

Yes, this past weekend was the New Canaan Society’s annual retreat. It was a once-a-year opportunity for men to let go and be real. It was a time to laugh, cry, have fun and fellowship, reconnect, smoke hand-rolled onsite Christian Cuban cigars, if that’s your thing. It’s basically an opportunity to rip off those masks that we wear every day and get real. It’s a once-a-year opportunity to go to the mountaintop.

Thank you, Jim.

Spring is in the air . . .

2011-03-01T12:23:00.000-05:00

. . . right after "snirt" and "sprunk." Let me explain..

Traditionally, one of the first signs of spring are fresh new daffodils that pop up through the fall leaves that we never raked out of the garden before the snow hit. But we aren’t there yet. First, we have to get rid of the “snirt” and second, get through “sprunk.”

There’s nothing more beautiful on a cold winter day than freshly fallen snow, but as we move into the final weeks of winter, snow piles turn into "snirt," the lava-like combination snow, salt, sand and road dirt. No matter how warm it gets in February and March, snirt never seems to go away. Yes, we may get an inch or two of fresh snow to cover it up for a few hours, but it’s still there.

"Sprunk" is more selective. It doesn’t hit everyone. It’s that annoying neighborhood skunk that awakens from its winter torpor on a warm day to empty its overloaded scent glands. Sunday night one apparently decided to emerge in the storage area under our bedroom to empty its winter buildup. Yikes, it was really bad.

We lit candles, went through a case of Lysol spray, opened all the windows, sprayed water and vinegar in the whole area, and spread Critter Ridder around the base of the house. I even ran a huge fan on high for most of the day until the skunkologist at our local hardware store told me that the odor is activated by coming into contact with moving air. I wish I had known that before I turned on the fan.

Everything seems to be working, so far. Hopefully, sprunk will be gone tomorrow and we can look forward to the end of snirt. Then, we will experience the real aroma and beauty of spring.

The hands of the village blacksmith

2011-02-26T22:28:00.000-05:00

Wherever there’s a horse, a blacksmith isn’t far away. They are craftsman who use heat and hammers to forge metal into horseshoes, chandeliers, railings, and barn, or gate hinges. While I appreciate their handiwork as they gradually shape heated metal into a useful and even ornamental shape, I am more fascinated by their hands.

We can learn a lot about a person by watching their hands. Body language experts watch a person’s hands as they communicate with someone to determine what they are really saying. We watch a mechanic use his hands to determine what is wrong with our car. We watch a mom hold her newborn child, and we see the wrinkled hands of an elderly person and wonder what kind of life they led.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, we will be compiling many of our hand images from various parts of the world into a fine art piece. I will share some of my favorites with you as we move along in the project. Where they are from is immaterial as the message of the hands, transcends all cultures and all languages.

Mouse in the house

2011-02-17T16:11:00.001-05:00

'Twas Saturday night and all through the house not a creature was stirring except one little mouse. It was that little annoying, scratching, scraping noise somewhere in the walls surrounding our living room that caught my attention. But like many noises, if no one else is around to hear them (like my wife), then there is no noise at all. Of course, every time I moved around the room to find the mouse, he didn't.

Sunday morning, I heard him again, but this time so did Lois. Now the mouse and I were both as good as dead. The mouse if I caught him and me if I didn't. On a desperate whim, I opened the spring-loaded hose door for the built-in house vacuum system that we have never used. There he was staring right back at me. He was just as surprised as I was, and I know if he could have run straight up the eight foot plastic pipe to the attic, he would have.

I spoke nicely to him to coax him out. I even put one of our ubiquitous Tupperware containers with a dab of peanut butter in it over the opening and held it against the wall for about ten minutes. I continued our negotiations, but he just wasn't hungry.

I began to think like my mentor, Tim Taylor on the Home Improvement sitcom, who always found a newer, bigger, and more powerful way to do something. I thought maybe the mouse would, like any kid and many adults, enjoy a high speed thrill ride through a looped and twisted pneumatic hose. It's not often that I get to bring the Shop-Vac into the living room at ten in the evening, but desperation had finally set in. I turned on the Shop-Vac, opened his door, and gave the little guy the biggest thrill ride he ever had.

Note: No mice were actually hurt in the creation of this blog. He's just a little colder because he's now in the woods where he belongs rather than in my walls, where he doesn't.

Unhinged.

2011-02-15T18:24:00.000-05:00

We were in an old Connecticut hardware store one day and found this great wall of used hinges. Some were brass or bronze, and others, iron. Some were made for front doors and barn doors, others for sheds, and some for gates. I was especially intrigued with the beautiful workmanship, but hanging on the wall, they were useless. They had become unhinged, and hung on the wall just hoping someone would notice. Do you know the feeling?

They were created by a blacksmith to have both form and function. He saw a purpose for each one before he formed it. We see the form, but unless they are attached to a gate or a door, they have no function. Perhaps they got bent out of shape, or rusty, and just could not perform anymore. Now all they do is hang around, waiting, hoping, that someone will notice their potential and once again use them to let people pass through the gate. After all that's why they were created in the first place.

Valentine’s Day

2011-02-14T21:24:00.000-05:00

We’ve come a long way since St. Valentine was martyred for secretly marrying young Roman soldiers against the orders of Claudius who thought marriage was a distraction to his young warriors.

Now, in memory of St. Valentine, we buy candy, flowers, cards, dinners and other romantic gifts for those we love. Hallmark and other greeting card companies have spent every day since Christmas reminding us to remember.

While the memory of our sentiments will carry momentum for a while, depending on how fresh the flowers and how large the box of chocolates, Hallmark and the candy industry will move right into the Easter holiday, tomorrow. It’s just the American way, thank you very much.

What on earth am I here for?

2011-02-11T11:22:00.000-05:00

Have you ever asked yourself the question, “What on earth am I here for?” A few years ago, I managed a seven week PR campaign for a special event around this group of seven words. Each week I emphasized a different word by bolding it, and each week, the question took on a new meaning. "What on earth am I here for?" The focus of the event was to zero in and define ones purpose in life.

Think of the purpose of your life, or someone else’s life, as a dinner table full of everyday clean dishes. As you look at the workmanship of the designer, notice each one is a different size, shape, or color, depending on the intended purpose. Some dishes are designed to serve the main course, the focus of attention. Some dishes are side dishes designed specifically to serve soup, salad, or bread, and of course, dessert, all of which support, or enhance, the main course. Other dishes hold cream, sugar, gravy, sauces, jams or jellies. They are often placed in the center of the table and used as needed. At the end of the meal, the designer sits back with a cup of coffee, tea or cappuccino and looks over the table of dishes and evaluates how well they fulfilled the purpose that he intended for each one.

So what is your purpose? What were you designed to do? Do you hold the gravy or the sugar? How do you interact with others every day at home, in your community, at the office? What role do you play? Are you really a side dish, but your ego gets in the way and demands to be a dinner plate, or are you meant to be the dinner plate, but you would rather be an out-of-the-way supporting saucer?

Like the dishes, each one of us is designed to serve a specific purpose, and life just wouldn’t be the same without you doing what the designer intended for you to do.

Breaktime

2011-02-08T16:13:00.000-05:00

This past weekend was a great time to take a break and enjoy a cup of coffee at your favorite neighborhood bistro, or on your deck, and let the warm sun work away on your ice and snow.

If you have been keeping up with our blog, you know we’ve been using panty hose stuffed with sodium chloride on our ice-dammed roof edges, we’ve drilled holes in our soffits, and we’ve banged and chipped to break the ice in our downspouts. I even climbed ladders to pull 18 inches of snow off the roof with a homemade roofrake and poured boiling water into the top of our two story downspouts. We have used more than ten gallons of gas in our snow blower and 200 pounds of salt on our driveway. They all worked a little bit, until sunset, that is when everything froze again.

Saturday and Sunday, God took over and gave us sun. It was like one massive dose of a decongestant kicking in. Everything ran. All we had to do was sitback and take a break from all our own feeble deicing attempts and watch the sun take over. I know we’re not suppose to waste time watching water boil, but kicking back with a cup of coffee watching weeks of ice and snow buildup melt away is a bigger thrill than I ever imagined.

All things considered, it has been a beautiful winter and I wouldn’t trade it for all the warm weather anywhere, even though my wife might. Each season has it’s own challenges and each is marked by it’s own unique beauty.

Man's best friend

2011-02-05T17:22:00.000-05:00

Our son-in-law, Troy, had just hunkered down into a couple of feet of snow to photograph his kids as they came flying down the hill in our front yard, when Annie decided to see what he was doing. Like most dogs, when someone is on her level, she likes to find out why. I'm not sure who is concentrating more, but I know a good ear-lick would get Troy's attention real fast.

"Snow" much fun!

2011-02-02T17:43:00.000-05:00

This past weekend we were blessed by a visit from our daughter and her family who drove up from Delaware. Rather than taking pictures in the studio, we thought we would shoot outside in the snow for a change. Their mom and dad said, "Just make sure your cameras are all ready when they go out because after about ten minutes of cold snow, they are cold, bored and back inside."

Their dad packed down a great sled run on the hill in our front yard and two hours and 200 pictures later, I came inside. They stayed out. "We don't have hills in Delaware, Grandad," they said. It seems all they do at home is run around their flat yard for a while, and hopefully, someone will pull them on a sled as there are no hills in Delaware.

Kids have a great way of humbling us into seeing the lighter side of things, and when I see smiles like these, it makes all this snow and ice worth it.

Ice dams and roof rakes

2011-02-01T22:48:00.000-05:00

When you made an ugly face as a kid (we all did), did your mother say, “Someday your face is going to freeze like that?” Yesterday as I was dealing with ice jams, my face did freeze, not because it was ugly but because it was so cold at gutter level on my roof, and my frustration level was at its max.

It all started Sunday as I was breaking ice on the roof above my deck. The ice was about ten inches thick and had crept up the roof at glacier speed about two feet. I worked with a carbon steel chisel and a three pound mason’s hammer and managed to break about six feet of the ice in two hours. The ugly face freeze happened when I realized I had about 175 lineal feet of gutter to go and a roof full of snow eighteen inches deep. There just had to be a solution.

Monday morning I called about twenty hardware stores looking for a roof rake to pull the snow down. That was a joke as people are standing in lines around here like they do at Best Buy on Black Friday just waiting to get one of the three hundred or so snow rakes that might come on the truck that day.

While I was on the phone, I was trolling my Facebook page and suddenly a friend’s friend posted a solution for ice dams on rooftops—calcium chloride in panty hose laid along the ice dam on the roof and in the gutter below. (Apparently ice-damology is a science of some sort here in Connecticut.) “It works every time.” “There’s a Youtube video about it.” The comments and likes in support of this kinky solution convinced me to try it. However, I was only going to do it after dark and on the rear roof for fear my neighbors might put me on some kind of watch list. By eight o’clock, I had two pair of one-size-fits-all taupe panty hose stuffed with ice melt stretched across my back roof. I must admit I was surprised at how far those things could stretch. They were like water balloons on steroids.

As far as the rake was concerned, I ended up making one. About eight years ago I bought a brass door threshold for my “next weekend project,” which fortunately never happened. I carefully unwrapped it and duck taped it to a garden rake. I taped the rake handle to a twelve foot tree trimmer handle and spent the better part of today pulling a couple of tons of ice and snow off part of my roof.

The jury is still out on the panty hose anti ice dammers, but my Rube Goldberg roof rake worked so well that my frustration has waned and my face has finally relaxed.

Sunshine

2011-01-30T22:50:00.001-05:00

“Sunshine” is not a new word, just a new experience. Yes, we finally had a long weekend of beautiful sun. Now, our challenge is how much of the eight inch ice base on top of our gutters and the first few rows of shingles can we break through without destroying our roof.

I tapped the gutters with a hammer, and it was like banging on concrete with a rubber mallet. There must be ten pounds of ice per foot on our gutters, to say nothing of the weight of eighteen inches of snow on the roof.

As for the downspouts, they are nothing more than a twenty foot ice column that probably won’t thaw until Easter.

How about water backing up under the flashing into the soffits and draining down the inside of the window sashes? Hopefully the 3/8 inch drain holes that we drilled into the soffits will provide an alternative escape route for the water—outside, not inside! It's like ice fishing upside down as the icey water runs down the drill and my arm as soon as I break through. So far, the makeshift drains are working. I just have to remember to poke through ice in the holes each morning and to fill them in before bee season.

Winter really is a lot of work and requires a few common sense preventative measures to make it through, but the beauty of it far outweighs the consequences, so far anyway. I just hope ingenuity prevails over foolishness as we combat the unusually high volume of ice and snow that we are getting this year.

Warning for moms

2011-01-26T21:24:00.000-05:00

What thoughts come to your mind when you see, "Not Picked Up?" It is simple, to the point, and clear yet there is something very provoking about it, especially with the added elements of time and days.

If you are a teenager, think how great it would be to just hang it on your door to let mom know it just isn’t ready for inspection yet. If you are a parent of a teenager, perhaps you should have one outside their bedroom as a subtle reminder.

Maybe you need a smaller version for the coffee table in your living room, or on the kitchen counter, or maybe even mounted on the dishwasher or refrigerator for someone else in the family. Have you thought about one for the office, or perhaps your boss’s office?

How about giving the clock a digitized voice to sound like the Garmin lady that keeps saying "recalculating" every time you want to go your own way and not hers? "It is 6:15 and not picked up."

These little signs could just be the next pet rock. How many would you buy, and where would you use them? Think about it.

Thinking of spring

2011-01-22T13:16:00.000-05:00

After tunneling through the curbside snow pile to get to our bright yellow mailbox that the town snowplow so skillfully buried, I found a note from the postal service that we had to maintain a thirty foot approach and exit to and from our mailbox, or not get delivery. I'm not sure why a stubby little fifteen foot mail truck needs sixty feet to deliver the mail, but I dutifully blow away what the plow leaves there each day after it passes. While I love winter, I have to admit that there are times when I long for spring.

But, spring isn't exactly around the corner, another Nor'easter is. So, I thought I would bring a hint of warmth into your life as you throw another log on your fire.

Icicles

2011-01-18T16:36:00.000-05:00

I think we have one of the largest single home icicle collections in our part of Connecticut. During the day, icicles look menacing, but in the moonlight they take on a whole new appearance, almost a fairy tale likeness.

There are literally hundreds of pounds of ice hanging onto our gutters for dear life. It is a regular phenomenon that takes place every January as the snow begins to melt from the rooftops but has no place to go, so it just hangs out. They are all different shapes, sizes, densities and yes, weight. It's the only collection of anything that I destroy each day hoping to never see it again. But then magically, overnight, they reappear one drop at a time.

Snow decked

2011-01-14T15:23:00.000-05:00

We bought an outdoor fireplace for our deck at a tag sale this past summer thinking it would be nice to sit outside on a cool winter evening and make smores. The wood is ready, we have graham crackers and marshmallows, but the Hershey bars are gone. We couldn’t wait any longer.

Snow days

2011-01-13T16:19:00.000-05:00

As everyone trooped out to their local supermarket on Tuesday, the day before our big nor'easter snow storm, they all seemed to focus on bread, milk and eggs. No one seems to know why, but those are the shelves that clear out first. Someone mentioned french toast on Facebook this year and I was off like a shot to get my bread, milk, and eggs. Normally, I don't follow the crowd, especially to the supermarket the day before a big storm, but I remembered we have a bottle of New Hampshire maple syrup that Lois's cousin made last year. We call it "Liquid Gold."

Cousin Bob has been boiling sugar in New Hampshire ever since his wife got her C.P.A. and began putting in sixteen hour days during that January-April 15 tax rush. Bob, never one to sit idle, started tapping trees to collect sap and boiling it in a home made, wood fired boiler. All we have to do is save a few Snapple bottles during the year for him to fill with syrup in the spring.

His operation has improved somewhat over the years, but there is no way to rush the flow of sap or speed up the process. During the cold months of winter, people in New Hampshire huddle around their wood stoves and social activities come to a standstill. Once the temperature goes above freezing, sugaring season begins.

The trees are tapped, sap is gathered each morning, and by evening, it's in the boiler beginning the slow process of becoming maple syrup. It's also an opportunity to end that long winter cabin fever and put up a "Boilin' come on in" sign in the snow pile at the end of the driveway. It's the only indication of life in many rural areas, and if you're like Bob, you need someone to talk to just to maintain your sanity.

Now that Bob's wife, Dale, no longer works in tax accounting, we hope that he is still susceptible to cabin fever, even though she is home every evening. Maybe she'll take up reading or knitting during sugaring. I mean, how would we ever get through heavy snow days without Cousin Bob's "Liquid Gold" to pull us through.

This is insane!

2011-01-11T21:31:00.000-05:00

I understand a lot of people like to fish, but frankly, dropping a string in the water hoping a finned underwater creature actually attaches itself to the hook only to be hauled up into an environment that causes a slow agonizing death just doesn’t attract me. In fact, I don’t even eat fish.

Here’s something I don’t understand, ice fishing, especially when there is no lifeguard around to pull you out. It’s one thing to relax on a pier, in a boat or beside a lake or stream, but sit on the ice in the middle of a lake in subfreezing temperatures and dangle a string through a hole, hoping to catch a fish? That’s insane!

But that’s just my opinion. What’s yours?

Which way is . . . wait a minute, where do I go?

2011-01-10T22:39:00.000-05:00

One of the advantages for universal symbols in signage is to help us understand where to go, regardless of where we are. I realize it’s based on the concept of “a picture is worth a thousand words,” but are there really enough words to explain this one. I mean, which way do I go, and what’s going to be there when I arrive?

Does the wheel chair ramp go to up to the exit, through the sign and out, or do I go down the ramp backwards to arrive at whatever the sign above it symbolizes? It could be anything from an airport bar to a DMV vision test. It could even be someone getting a dog license at city hall.

I’m beginning to think that the pictures could represent almost anything in a thousand word vocabulary, but the easiest symbol to read is “EXIT.” Perhaps that’s the most universal sign of all, and it’s the only one that is spelled out.

How do you read this sign, and where will you be when you get there?

Winter hats, form or function

2011-01-06T23:38:00.000-05:00

Did your mother ever nag you incessantly through fall and into winter to wear your hat every time the temperature went below fifty? It was always one of those ugly, practical, high function, warm hats, too. Yikes, how well I remember those days when function trumped form. I always managed to get out of the house with a squashable hat because it just wasn't "cool" to wear a hat around the other kids.

For me “form” was more important than function. Only weird, uncool kids wore hats. As soon as I got a few houses away from home, I would take the hat off, squash it as much as possible and jam it deep into my pocket. It seems the colder it got, the more defiant I became until by January, my hat barely made it outside before I squashed it into my pocket. By February, it never left my bedroom. After all, I was twelve, and I knew I could take it.

Now, it's cool to wear hats. We wear them in the summer as well as winter. For many, form still trumps function. For me, I go for function, especially when it gets brutally cold, but before I would wear one of these Manhattan street vendor’s hats, I think I would just stay inside.

Slow service

2011-01-05T17:32:00.000-05:00

Restaurant service is always a hot topic, whether the food is hot, or not. But one thing is sure, if you want to speed things up, carry a camera, not a cell phone camera, but a real standalone camera.

We were at a very odd pizza restaurant just outside Litchfield, Connecticut. It was out of character for us, but not out of bounds.

We picked a booth, the waitress brought our beverages and took our order. Then we waited, and we waited, and waited some more. I'm sure it has never happened to you, but yes, I had my camera with us, and yes, we started using it. The only things on the table were a pair of salt and pepper shakers and one hot pepper shaker. When combined with the warm sunlight, we had all we needed, and before we knew it, our lunch was ready.

Always carry a camera!

It's a new year. Have you thrown out the trash from last year?

2011-01-04T18:21:00.000-05:00

It's a new year and time to clean out the trash that bogged us down in 2010. I'm not saying trash everything from last year, unless of course it was a real bad year for you, just get rid of the stuff that will drag you down in 2011. I don't mean just coffee cups, water bottles, and Coke cans; I mean anything that will detract you from making your goals in 2011.

When we surround ourselves with stuff, we tend to fall back on old habits while everyone around us moves ahead embracing new technologies and new ways of thinking. Remember the eight track players, and five inch floppy discs? Remember LP records, Polaroid cameras and the Instamatic camera? They were great new ideas, products, and trends of the past that have since become no-bid stuff on e-bay (many are sitting on a shelf in my prop room). They have been replaced by technologies virtually unknown at the beginning of this century. If the memories were great, put it on a shelf, but don't hang onto it because you are waiting for the Smithsonian to make you an offer. If it's that good, they probably already have it.

As you move ahead in 2011, keep your eyes and your minds open. New markets, new ideas, new products, new trends, and new ways of communicating will unfold more rapidly than ever. The old stuff that you have been hanging onto, simply won't work, but before you trash it, send me an email as I might want to add it to my prop room. If I don't, it really is trash.

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T18:14:00.000-05:00

We wish everyone a very happy and prosperous New Year. Thank you for following our blog this past year and for the many comments that you have shared with us. We look forward to sharing our thoughts with you in 2011, as bizarre as they may seem at times.

Cheers!

2010-12-30T17:10:00.000-05:00

Holiday travel

"Are we almost there yet?"

"I'm hungry."

"Can I take my seatbelt off?"

"I'm hungry."

"Why aren't we moving?"

"I'm hungry."

"How much longer?"

"I'm hungry."

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

"My stomach doesn't feel good."

Oh the joys of holiday travel on the road. I guess that's why we fly so much now, or do we? Perhaps your flight plans that looked so good a month ago, suddenly changed in the middle of your Christmas break. Did what was going to be a leisurely two hour plane ride turn out to be a two day nightmare? Did you find yourself sitting in an airport with hundreds of other stranded passengers all who had someplace to go and no way to get there? How about that scramble for a rental car to drive home? Did you make it? Are Planes Trains and Automobiles, or Christmas Vacation still on your Facebook favorite movies list?

Now the big question. Where will you go next Christmas?

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

2010-12-25T00:01:00.002-05:00

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be a sign to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Chirst the Lord. -Luke 2:10-11