…the keys. Some days are like that.
When you’re photographing a baseball game and positioned behind first base, those throws from short stop can get downright interesting. They come right at you. Such as in this photo.
No, despite his valliant effort, the first baseman did not make the catch. But I almost did!
There is nothing like watching a baseball get larger and larger in your viewfinder. Fortunately I had moved left one step before shooting the photograph, otherwise this ball would have hit me in a very bad place (which, technically, would be any place on my body).
Shot this Monday night at Norman High School.
Spent Sunday morning at the Medieval Fair in Norman. Considering this festival is all about the ”Dark Ages”, there sure is a lot of color to it.
We start with one of the creme de la creme of root beers. Faygo Root Beer was ranked the best tasting root beer in America in 2009 by Bon Appetit magazine, which described it as “dry and crisp, with a frothy head, a good bite and a long finish.” Indeed it has all that, but it also has a creaminess that places the root beer in the upper tier of mild-flavored soft drinks.
Faygo was established in 1907 by a family of Russians (Ben and Perry Feigenson) who had immigrated to Detroit, Michigan, presumably anticipating the Bolsheviks would dislike root beer (another reason to hate the damn commies).
But, what Russian family names their kid Ben? (A Russian who wants their kid to sell soda in America — duh!) Anyway, they launched this root beer in 1910 and this brand soon became popular at Detroit Tiger baseball games.
In the 1950s the fictional character ”Faygo Kid” hawked the brand on early Detroit television. No, kids, Faygo Kid is not some spokesman for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance. Although I’m sure they love their root beer too.
Now, Faygo Root Beer is mentioned in the songs of hip hop group Insane Clown Posse. I don’t know why I mention that — I don’t even know who Insane Clown Posse is — except it seems a weird bit of trivia for a root beer that is packaged in a simple brown and gold bottle.
Best quality: creaminess. Probably a little too mild for my tastes, but satisfactory for the Midwest pallet of Michigan and Ohio. Considering that Detroit has little else to be proud of — except some obscure hip hop band — it’s not bad.
Total calories: 170. Total carbs: 43 grams. Total sugar: 43 grams (100% pure cane sugar too!)
Total Score: 88
Next: Sea Dog Root Beer
I shot the Okarche Duathlon on Saturday. Cold, windy and rainy conditions made this even more challenging for racers than they expected. When I saw how sapped the obviously-in-best shape participants were at the end I was even more convinced I would have stopped about a fourth of the way through the run-bike-run event and headed home.
You can see a large selection of the photographs I took in Okarche here.
Today I begin my Weekend Root Beer Review for 2010. (Warning: This has nothing to do with photography, but when I’m out shooting something this is what you get.)Last year I was determined through personal taste testing and scientific research to find the Best Root Beer in America. After careful scrutiny I concluded the best root beer was none other than Dog N Suds, an Illinois-based root beer that had the best mix of sweetness, creaminess and sasparilla that I’ve ever consumed. (Route 66 Root Beer came in a close second).
I know, I need a life.
Anyway, I sampled two dozen root beers. This year I hope to sample even more. (I also gained 10 pounds — but one should not quibble over such matters. Sacrifices must be made in the interest of science. Besides, I do have a Y card).
Who knew that a combination of carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, caramel color, phosphoric acid, sodium benzoate (as a preservative), natural and artificial color could be so tasty — AND, could vary so much from coast to coast?
So the testing for 2010 begins. Here’s our scientific methodology:
1) Go to my root beer dealer and get different root beers. No, he’s not standing on a corner of North Shartel Ave., or operating out of the back of a 1972 Dodge van.
Instead, it’s the famous Route 66 Pops! that will supply us with the goods. Only at an authentic Route 66 stop in Oklahoma can you get the best collection of root beers in America.
2) Admire the bottle/packaging/artwork. Presentation is important.
3) Drink it.
4) That’s really all. Oh, and recycle the bottle.
Next: Faygo “Original” Root Beer
My hometown of Norman, Oklahoma is to meteorologists what Mecca is to Muslims.
The worshipped shrines around here are orb-covered radar towers. But the spirit behind it all comes from the sky.
With such a weird winter (an unprecedented five snow falls) coming to a close, there is anticipation among the diehard storm chasers that this tornado season (one of Oklahoma’s two seasons, the other one being football season) will bring a bumper crop of F3s and F4s.
Now, while we love our storms, even we don’t want too many F5s, because they might hurt someone, are way to messy, and clog our local TV airways with incessant warnings and announcements of “inflow”, “Gitner” and “Val, Val, where are ya’ Val?” Besides, they cause us to miss Seinfeld re-runs.
Anyway, the season starts next week. Hang on.
(BTW, pic above taken at Westheimer Airport on Wednesday night when a cold front moved through.)
I have a 70-plus-year-old relative who bicycles more than 50 miles about every day over the not-flat part of Oklahoma. I, on the other hand, huff and puff getting up off the couch. I have, however, found the local bike shop (see above), so maybe the two will spur me on to a healthier lifestyle this Spring.
My guess is I was so struck by how brilliant the yellow color of this old station wagon was that I was momentarily mentally paralyzed such that I forgot to even find out what kind of car it is. Good luck looking for this one on the internet.
Found Mr. Yellow here in my not-so-far neighborhood while out walking. New rule: Take a moment to take mental notes before continuing down the sidewalk. Good news: I didn’t fall down.
I am this close (visualize my thumb and forefinger a half inch apart) to embarking on a no-text no-email week — sort of a Lent-like period to cleanse my gummed-up soul of technological flotsam.
Some people would die before doing that.
I will not give up enchiladas, however.
For my friends who insist on purchasing, and consuming, bottled water. Watch this:
Peter Gowland, Hassie and Honeywell strobe
For teen-aged photographers of my generation, Peter Gowland was known long before Ansel Adams or Henri Cartier-Bresson or Alfred Stieglitz. Gowland was the guru of pin-up/glamour photography that drew us to Popular Photography magazine long before we had the gumption to dare risk buying a Playboy at the local convenience store.
Gowland died last week at age 94. He leaves behind three generations of photographs of buxom bikini-clad beach bunnies, scores of make-shift photography studio how-to ideas, camera gear he invented (he even had his own camera: The Gowland 4 x 5), appearances as an actor in World War II-era movies, photography books he authored and thousands of followers who, when awash with the hormones of a teen-ager, believed having a camera would get us the girls.
It didn’t work. But the idea was pretty good at the time. Adios, Mr. Gowland and thanks for the memories.
One of the most amazing videos I’ve seen, below.
This is a psuedo-miniature New York City. But, it’s not some model or clay-mation hokus pokus. It is actual time-lapse photography of more than 35,000 separate images of the city shot mostly with a Nikon D3, using regular zoom lenses. The effect was added in post-production. With the delightful soundtrack, this little video is a charming look at the Big Apple, seemingly in miniature.
The Sandpit from Sam O’Hare on Vimeo.
I can only imagine the time put into this.
No one is here
As if a prelude to the History Channel’s Life After Humans show, spring break has arrived and no one is in Norman. Except those few of us specially selected to pick up mail, do the laundry and blog about it all.
