Here's a funny animation I caught on Pharyngula, the excellent science blog by P.Z. Myers.  The audio is German, but there are subtitles.  I got a kick out of it, perhaps you will too?

Das Rad

Back in the ides of December my niece Samantha had a big day.  She performed in a Christmas-themed dance recital with her dance troupe and then went home to have a birthday party.  After the party she went back to the stage for an encore performance with her troupe.  It was an important day for her and she was really keyed up, but did an excellent job during her numbers onstage.  Way to go Sam!

My sister-in-law Kris, Sam's mom, asked me to come to the recital and party to take pictures.  I packed some equipment up and made the long trip with equal shares of nerves and anticipation.  During the trip down Kris phoned me and let me know that the director of the show wasn't keen on photographs being made.  There could be no flash, and I could not stand close to the stage--she was concerned I would distract the dancers and block the views of the other patrons, which doesn't give me much credit but I could understand her concerns.  More annoying was that I would not be able to use a tripod (so as not to be distracting).

So the tripod stayed in the car and my nerves got worse.  How dark would it be?  Would I be able to shoot anything decent at all?  Would Kris be disappointed?

The answer to the first question was pitch black.  The stage was lit dimly but the room was black as black could be.  I went over my lens options and eventually settled on the EF 70-200mm f/2.8L IS.  I had both the 35mm 1.4L and 85mm 1.2L with me, but I was nervous about confining myself to fixed focal lengths given the admonitions I had received--I didn't want to be moving around a lot.  Fortunately I spotted a place to the side of the auditorium where I would be out of the aisle and not blocking anyone.  I asked the person collecting tickets if I could stand there quietly and shoot and she said "I don't see why not."

So I cranked my ISO wayyy up (most shots at 1250 or 1600, a few at 1000) and took a boatload of shots.  The angle was less than ideal.  I really needed to be in the center aisle (and on a tripod!)  Despite all this I managed to snag a few dozen really great shots (IMHO).  Choosing the zoom was definitely the right idea... it gave me a lot of needed flexibility.

Afterward I got to meet the show's director and the first thing she said to me was "Was that you taking pictures out there with the flash?"  I assured her that was someone else and pointed out there was no flash on the camera.  Then I offered to get her copies of the pictures and she seemed agreeable.

Then the 70-200mm came off and the 85mm went on for portraits of Sam at the venue where the show was held.  Then it was back to her house for her birthday party where I shot over a hundred pix of her and her friends, using both the 85mm and the 35mm primes.

During the following week in rare free moments, I post processed the photos heavily in lightroom and photoshop, and prepared a CD for both my sister in law, and the dance troupe director.  The CDs included my business card and a text file discussing the shoot.  Hopefully the dance theatre director will be pleased with the shots and decide to contract me for future work.  That would be nice!!  I did hear back that Kris *loved* the pictures, and that she gave her permission for me to share pictures of Sam on flickr, and on my business website (which very much bare and under construction), and that definitely warmed the cockles of my heart.

Sadly I don't have permission from the parents of the other kids at Sam's party, or the other dancers during her show, so I am limited to sharing just pictures of Samantha, but that's okay, in my eyes she really was the star of the day.  I suspect if you check out the photos you'll agree.  Click the image above to check out the photoset in my flickr photostream.

Happy 11'th birthday Sam, and bravo for a terrific show!

As I go from discussion forum to discussion form, I repeatedly get asked that question in some form or another. "What's 'Abacquer' mean?" or "What is a Plastered Dragon?" When that happens I get to tell a story that I've told many times.  And each time I tell it I embellish it a little more than the last time.  But writing it over and over again each time it happens is a bit silly.  So I've decided to put the latest incarnation here so that I can just refer people to this article in the future.  It will save me on typing.   Good friends of mine already know this story and have already heard some of these jokes before.  But if you are really curious, read on...

In a sort of story I wrote once (a D&D campaign really) there was a dragon who had a penchant for getting drunk.

As the story goes, many hundreds of years ago the residents of the little community of Wayside and many people from the surrounding towns and environs are gathered at the Wayside Inn for the annual Oktobrefest--a huge party which sees partygoers from all over their country--all manner of tradesman, adventurer, and race is sure to be there. And many get swilling drunk of course, particularly the gnomes (as is their custom) who prefer to drink more than anyone else (as is their custom) from a trough (as is their custom) and then beat each other senseless until they pass out (as is their custom).

So anyway as I said this party was going on one brisk Oktobre morn when all of a sudden this young bull drake appears in the sky, circles the town, and promptly lands right smack dab in the center of the town green. Nobody knew what to make of it. It was neither a metallic nor a chromatic dragon, so nobody was certain what its disposition would be, but it was also quite young as dragons go and would therefore be "easily" put down by the town guard if need be.

It turned out that need did not be, because the drake trotted to the trough of ale, stuck his head in, drank the whole thing in about 30 seconds flat, let out a loud burp and promptly passed out, to much admiration from the gnomes.  The party continued about the sleeping beast unabated. Apparently the dragon was simply another partygoer, Wayside's first of that particular variety. And he quickly became the life of the party once he woke up and started dancing to the fine music provided by the local musicians. And apart from the inevitable property damage, his performance was well received.

It was the beginning of a long friendship, and as the years went by, the half-seas-over reptile would return each Oktobre to drink himself silly and make merry during Oktobrefest. He explained to the townspeople (in a rare sober moment) that his name was Abacquer (that's pronounced AB-bah-kur) and that his unusual coloration was due to his curious pedigree. His father was a benevolent copper dragon of some fame known as "Morrich the Claw". His mother was a chromatic dragon (specifically a white dragon) that had been raised as a foundling by copper dragons, who went by the moniker "Tiarrel the Rime". By his own admission, as a White/Copper hybrid, that made him a "Whopper Dragon", a fact that brought him much amusement and was sure to produce a beery guffaw from him whenever he brought it up. And given that his white dragon descent included a frost breath weapon, he could immediately chill your drink for you, so most people put up with hearing the story over and over, for his company was a good one, even if a bit sozzled.

Abacquer took a liking to Perronian Pink Champagne in particular, and the Wayside Inn began to stock up on it for his annual appearance. Once word of the inebriated dragon began to spread, the Oktobrefest became even more of an attraction that helped put Wayside on the map like never before. People would come from all over New Irth just to catch a glimpse of the "plastered dragon".

Upon reaching adulthood, Abacquer, like all dragons, chose a title for himself. He chose "Abacquer the Belch", much to the consternation of his parents, in recognition of his uncontested claim to the longest running belch in recorded history (12 minutes 48 seconds).

Later in life he made his aerie on Sherenpate Pyke and became something of a protector of the surrounding communities and vineyards. Especially the vineyards. Go figure. In his massive ice cavern he welcomed visitors and even had one visit of note from the musicians of a nearby farming village. A painting produced by a local artist hangs in the town's music hall commemmorating this event. In the painting the band is seated and playing in Abacquer's aerie while nervously glancing up at the (clearly intoxicated) dragon as he dances upside down on the ceiling. Of course white dragons can walk on any frozen surface seeming without regard for gravity, but as a half-white, Abacquer's icewalking ability was, according to him, "a little spotty". According to records of the event, the Belch informed the musicians that they needn't worry, his icewalking only gave out when he was drunk. Somehow that wasn't very reassuring, but the event went off without a hitch although all further concerts in his honor were held in town.

Eventually the fame of his story became so great that the Wayside Inn was renamed Inne of Ye Plastered Dragon (or simply, the Plastered Dragon Inn), and the rest is history. His life was long and colorful and he did many great deeds in spite of being a complete sot. He was knighted by the gnomes of Perro (there's a switch, as Abacquer once noted, being a knight and a dragon both meant that if he ever took a damsel hostage he would have to slay himself and then marry her, and not being the marrying sort, that was probably best.) And it is said that he is up for canonization in the gnomish pantheon, which is kind of a big deal. All previously canonized gnomish saints were bartenders and Abacquer has no talent for mixing drinks anywhere but in his belly. But the gnomes of Perro say (as is their custom) that he is "noseworthy", and I guess when it comes to binge drinking, nobody would be a better judge than they. And besides, being the biggest single consumer of Perronian Pink Champagne in all of New Irth (200 barrels a month) there's a certain economic interest among the gnomes of Perro in staying on his good side. But I digress... as is my custom.

I've always loved the Abacquer character, and so over the years, my online name has always been Plastered Dragon, or PDragon, or some variant thereof. And that's the story behind it--at some great length!

To whom it may concern:

My family and I visited your center on July 27, 2007.  We had a nice time and enjoyed every part of our visit except for the end in your gift shop.  Apart from the annoyance of it being blisteringly hot in the shop, we were accosted by an individual whose name I don't recall, but I'm sure, once you read this letter, you will know exactly who I am referring to.

Your shop was selling polished stones and magnetic stones "by the bag".  The listed prices were $4 for a small bag of polished stones, $7 for a large bag of polished stones, and $5 for a bag of "sticky stones".  There were no other signs posted indicating how many stones should be in a bag or any other special requirements. We had purchased some bags of stones just like these at the Polar Caves the day before where we were encouraged by the staff to "stuff the bag".

While I was sweating in the heat (it was 90 degrees outside) and selecting stones that might look good in my still life photographs, I was approached by an elderly gift shop employee who said to me "Just to let you know, you aren't allowed to overfill the bag, it has to close."  My bag was not overflowing, but it was bulging because I was trying to pack it tightly.  I took a few stones out of my bag and closed it.  I was then informed that the bag must close "comfortably" and that if I tried to buy the bag as it was "they will catch you at the register".  Given the heat (and the miserliness of your staff) I was running out of patience and said "I'll just pay a couple of extra dollars at the register if it is an issue."

I'd like to point out that having already spent well over $50 just to get my family into your center for the afternoon, and another $15 in the café for snack food, and being about to spend about $60 for gift shop items, I was offended that I was being hassled over a few pennies worth of rocks.

When I arrived at the register, the cashier was completely unfazed by my bags of stones and began ringing them up.  Within seconds the same woman swooped in and informed the cashier that I could not purchase my bag of "sticky stones" because it was overfilled.  I immediately said to the cashier "it's hot, I'm not going to go fill a second bag, please charge me two extra dollars."  I could have easily closed the bag by removing only a few stones, but I figured that offering far more than the extra stones were worth should be good enough.

The cashier seemed to think that would be fine and repeated my offer to the officious employee.  I was being more than generous, and yet, it wasn't good enough.  I was informed I would have to buy a second bag of stones.  So I set the bag aside and informed the cashier that I wouldn't be purchasing it today and made clear with my tone that I felt the entire exchange was patently ridiculous.  At this point, the officious employee launched into a speech about how your center is a nonprofit organization, as if I needed that explained to me.  I didn't appreciate the implication that I was somehow being greedy.  I am an Audubon Society member, and I always donate when I visit wildlife sanctuaries even though as a society member I am not required to do so.  Someone was being greedy that day, but it wasn't me, having sunk a total of about $125 into your coffers for a 3 hour visit.

I waved the obdurate woman away and reminded her that I had just offered to pay extra.  Nonprofits don't turn away money when it is offered without strings, so this had nothing to do with your center's nonprofit status, and everything to do with someone who doesn't have enough important things to worry about.  Nonprofits are typically very flexible, because flexibility equals greater donations and thus allows the nonprofit to do more for the greater good.  I'm sure I don't have to explain that to you, but clearly you need to explain it to a certain intransigent member of your gift shop staff, because it cost you $7 during my visit, and since I was so insulted and angered, I don't really see myself or my family returning to your facility again, which means it probably is going to cost you quite a bit, considering that only minutes before my wife and I were talking about purchasing a membership.

The irritating woman left and the cashier apologized to me and made clear with her expression that she too felt the other employee was being unreasonable.  At the very least, if you are going to sell items "by the bag" and are going to impose stringent restrictions on what a bag can contain, there has got to be a more sensible way to do it than to have an employee hovering over customers and pestering them.  Like perhaps a sign that says "No More Than 12 Stones Per Bag" or an example bag with a sign saying "Your Bag Should Look Like This".  Or simply sell the stones individually.

Though in the future I will certainly encourage folks to visit your facility, I'll be cautioning them about the gift shop.  When folks visit such shops we know we are paying too much given the value of the goods, but we do it anyway because it is for a good cause.  The last thing one should do in such a situation is harass the visitors and needle them for more money.  I would have thought that was obvious.

Okay my geeky friends, what's so funny about this?

This is what I saw in my upstairs bathroom window after pulling into the driveway and getting out of my car today:

Ever get the feeling someone was waiting for you to come home?

So the other day I was commenting on a blog where the authors were working on a new layout.  I spotted some strange wrapping issues and uploaded a screenshot of my browser window for them to look at.  Repeatedly, whenever the screenshot was on the screen, I caught myself trying to click the browser's back button in the screenshot.  Needless to say, each time I did this was followed by a disjointed moment of confusion where I wondered why it wasn't working.  Is my browser locked up?  What's going on?  After a second or so the realization would come.  You dummy, that's not your browser, that's a picture of your browser.

I think it served as a reminder of how much we do automatically once we've "learned" to do it.  The entire metaphor--hand to mouse, mouse to cursor, cursor to back button, click--all automatic and interpretted by the brain as "go back".

Anyway, next time I upload a screenshot of the browser, I think I'll leave the menu and toolbar out of it.