Lone Locust Productions

Category: General

  • It’s Xmas and why not blog a little?

    It’s been quite the rainy day here in Phoenix for Christmas, which is fine, since we spent the day indoors anyway. Certainly, we can always use the rain.

    A couple of amusing stories so far this year, starting with my gift to Irene. Recently, I was really, really stretching to think of a gift for Irene when I came across the weekly David Pogue technology video for the New York Times, talking about the Flip MinoHD, a flash memory-based HD camcorder. Pogue gave it quite a good review, which is what got me thinking about it. My wife really should be shooting more video of the kids, but our existing camcorder is totally inconvenient to carry around. This seemed like a perfect compromise.

    This is not a high-end HD camcorder. The compression is noticeable, and the CCD is of the inferior type that can produce “bending” artifacts if you move too quickly. I reported on this same phenomena with my iPhone’s still camera. (It has to do with the speed of the data being read off the CCD, and the pattern that it reads the data in. If the objects moves before the CCD has dumped the data as it moved from top left to bottom right, the object appears to be bent.

    This same effect occurs on the MinoHD. Still, for the price, about $200, you get a tiny camcorder, solid-state, with 1 hour recording capacity. It plugs right into your Mac (or PCs, I’m told) and you pull the clips right off. It’s charged via the USB connection that “flips” out (hence the name).

    I got the camera a couple weeks ago, and, thinking about it, decided that my wife would want to use it on Christmas morning, so I unboxed it, and I charged it, set the date and time, made a few test videos (Deciding if I should send it back, which, ultimately, I did not) and then carefully repackaged the box and wrapped it for Christmas. When we got our tree, it was the first present under it.

    Then I got to thinking, “The kids are going to want to open their presents first, indeed, it will be difficult to hold them back. Then, there’s the excitement of seeing all those presents under the tree. Surely, we want to guarantee that the camcorder is open and ready before the kids wake up.”

    Come last evening, after the kids were in bed, I insisted that Irene open her present on Christmas Eve. She balked at the idea, but I insisted, so she say down, carefully unwrapped the present. Inside was the MinoHD box, which is noticeably similar to an iPod box. She opened the box and there, inside was…

    …an empty box!!!!!

    I was flabbergasted. I ran to my office and started searching frantically. Sure enough, I had forgotten to put the camera back in the box when I packed it up. At least Irene had a good sense of humor about it, and it was funny. I am glad the kids weren’t there, though.

    And then there’s my sneaky daughter.

    My dad had gathered from Michelle that she’d like some Ultraman/Godzilla stuff. My dad searched online and found a store that had some imported Japanese toys. He asked me which ones they had and which ones I thought they’d like. She’d already got most of the Ultramen figures that she knows, except for Ultraseven X, which I suggested. I also suggested Godzilla and Mothra figures in the same scale as the Ultramen. So my dad ordered them.

    I poked around the website and found some other Godzilla toys in plush figures, so I decided to pick up one each for the kids, a Godzilla and a Rodan.

    When the toys my dad ordered arrived, he decided that he wanted to split them up and give one to James, so I suggested Mothra for him. (Michelle has some plastic insects which she already pretend are Mothra, and James feels left out.) I figured that I’d give James the plush Godzilla, since Michelle was getting the other Godzilla, and give her Rodan, since James was getting a different flying monster.

    Instead of wrapping them, Irene wanted to use them as stocking stuffers, so, as we went to bed last night, I carefully placed Rodan in Michelle’s stocking, peaking out, and Godzilla in James’, peaking out.

    This morning, to Michelle’s credit, she woke up well before Irene or I, and she didn’t open her presents (she’d been warned) and she didn’t wake us up – but the second any noise came from our bedroom, she was in next to our bed like a shot.

    “Santa’s been here! Santa’s been here! he put a Godzilla in my stocking and he put a Rodan in James’ stocking!!!”

    Bleary eyed and still asleep, I was thinking, “What? That’s backwards.”

    Sure enough, when I came out, someone (I wonder who?) had swapped them in the stockings.

    I thought long and hard about that, because it was obviously dishonest of her, and she didn’t know she was getting a Godzilla when my dad arrived. Finally, I tried this gambit: “You know, Michelle, the Godzilla and Rodan weren’t from Santa. Actually, I got those for you and I put Rodan in your stocking and Godzilla in James’. I don’t know what happened, maybe Santa accidentally knocked them out and didn’t know which one to put each one back in and they got swapped.”

    Michelle thought for a moment – you could really see the gears turning – and said, “I’ll put them back.” And she swapped them back.

    Perhaps she learned from that one.

    Homemade Prime Rib and Yorkshire Pudding for Christmas dinner, plus the Next Doctor. Review coming soon.

  • Am I loosing my “leave me the $^#@ alone” face?

    Holiday cheer is one thing: Peace, goodwill towards all men – all those non-Christian ideals that somehow got associated with Christmas. It’s at this time of year that people who normally wouldn’t say word one to strangers will chip with some platitude, and, let’s face it, you can’t not respond.

    Twice today I was accosted by holiday “cheer”. The first was at Jack-in-the-Box, as I was leaving. A man had driven up to the front door and parked his truck in a no-parking zone. He’d opened his door but hadn’t gotten out, nor had he turned off his engine. He looked for all the world like someone who’d just been through the drive-through, and they’d asked him to pull out of the way because his food was going to take a while. It’s not uncommon, especially at around 10:00AM. People are starting to order lunch items, but they’re still geared up for breakfast, sometimes things like chicken take 5 minutes to prepare. It really bogs down the drive-through window if they don’t ask the people to pull up to let other cards through.

    So, as I walk out of the store, the man in the truck says, “Merry Christmas!”, to which I respond, rather imaginatively, “Merry Christmas”.

    And then the attack, “Hey, could you do me a favor? Come take a look at my leg.”

    My reaction: (!!!!!!) The man’s “leg” was still blocked from my view by his car door, and I made sure it stayed that way.

    “This happened to me earlier today on my motorcycle. We don’t have money for bandages or stitches or antibiotics or anything, but I’m not asking for money for that, I just need some money for gas. I’ve got my Marine Corps ID card right here, if you want to see it.”

    How the hell do you respond to that? That’s got to be the creepiest, least plausible, money come on I’ve ever heard. He’s driving a great big new gas-guzzling truck, trying to show off his wounded leg and asking for gas money – and he can’t be bothered to turn his engine off. If he was after medical attention, he was about 2-3 miles from a VA hospital which, if he had his Marine Corps ID, they’d have taken care of. Somehow, I just think he was trying to get me closer to his truck, for what nefarious purpose I cannot imagine. Stranger Danger on that one!

    This evening, we stopped in Taco Bell for a quick snack. It wasn’t very busy. A man of African American descent, wearing a hoodie came into the restaurant and went up to the counter, where he started talking with people – by name – working in the back, things like, “Hey Marion, Merry Christmas!” Obviously, they knew who he was. I didn’t give it another thought, until I went up to refill my drink at the soda fountain.

    That puts me about 6 feet away from the guy. He turns and looks at me, steps forward, holding out his hand to shake saying, “Merry Christmas!”

    Rather unimaginatively, I respond with, “Merry Christmas”. I hesitate on the hand shaking thing, but, it’s almost like a trained response. Someone offers a hand, you shake. He noticed the hesitation and altered to the knuckle-bump thing, which, I’ve never done in my life. So I end up doing this absurd knuckle-bump and handshake.

    “So, you all ready for Christmas?” he asks.

    “That remains to be seen,” I say.

    “Hey, you and I are about the same age.” He points out.

    I’m thinking, “OK, that’s a weird line of conversation. What does that matter?” Instead I respond, “Maybe thereabouts.”

    “Are you 40?”

    I don’t know why I responded to that, probably because this was just too bizarre, “Older”

    “50?”

    “Nah, not that old.”

    “You got your Christmas shopping done? ‘Cause, I know what you need for Christmas. It’s great for guys our age.”

    I am completely, %$&#ing baffled by what this guy is going on about. By this point, I’ve decided he’s one of those insane, homeless people who talk to cardboard boxes. Instead, he goes on, putting his hand to his ear, which is obscured by the hoodie. “I know what’s a great Christmas present. Weed, man. It’s the best Christmas present.” He presented a small plastic bag up by his ear.

    In all my life, no one has ever tried to sell me drugs. From what you see on TV, I thought you had to go downtown somewhere, and meet behind garbage cans to meet the drug-dealer scumbags, but no, they deliver to fine eating establishments like Taco Bell. Clearly, the guy was a regular, too, since he knew the names of the crew.

    The best thing I can say for this guys is that he backed away immediately when I said, “no.” However, he was hanging out outside when we left and was making with the Christmas cheer chatter, talking at my wife as we went to the car.

    Damn, that’s hitting way too close to my children. It’s time to have a talk with them.

  • Dec 21, Geocache 5

    Ok, so I’ve come to my last geocache for the day, I’ve wandered about 6 km today.

    So, what was purpose for blogging this? This time I’m equipped with new technology. I’m still using my trusty Garmin GPS but these days the support for Mac OSX is much better.

    More significantly, I’ve got the iPhone. At least inside the city I’ve got google earth imagery, direct software to connect to geocaching.com, a camera and I can blog my finds while I’m on the spot.

    As a first experiment, it worked pretty well.

    The picture below is the area I found my last cache for the day.

  • Dec 21, Geocache 4

    The park we’re at is quite large, but eventually the park runs out and then you’re nowhere.

    This geocache has no doubt caused a lot of bloodshed.

  • Dec 21, Geocache 3

    Can you see the geocache in this picture?

  • Dec 21, Geocache 2

    This is the first I didn’t find.

    Where is it? At the bench? In the tree? Or…?

  • Dec 21, Geocache 1

    It’s another fine December morning, and the family has been called out to the dark side of Egypt (read: Chandler’s) for a Taiwanese picnic.

    So, typically, I’m eschewing the picnic in favor solitary peregrinations.

    There are a fair number of gepcaches in the area.

    This is the first one I found.

  • New Xmas Tree

    Friday was Chu-Wan’s and my 10th wedding anniversary. During our marriage, we’ve been planting trees.

    Out first Xmas was spent in Singapore on our honeymoon, so we weren’t at home.

    On our second Xmas we got a live Xmas tree and when Xmas was over, we planted it in the back yard. It’s now over 15 feet high.

    When Michelle was born in 2002, we planted a ficus tree in the front yard. On her first Xmas, we again planted our Xmas tree in the back.

    Similarly, with James we followed the same pattern, ficus in front, pine tree in back. Unfortunately, neither of those trees made it. The pine tree failed to take root and the ficus was too young when a record-breaking cold spell hit Phoenix.

    On James’ second Xmas we planted another pine tree which is going fine.

    This year we decided to try something different. Indoors we purchased a cool, but totally artificial, fiber optic tree, but outside, rather than waiting until after Xmas, we’ve planted a new, larger pine tree. And for the first time we’ve decorated tree with lights.

    Provided the weather cooperates with us, this will be our display tree for years to come.

  • The Elders of the Internet

    So, the cat’s out of the bag, is it?

    This weeks IT Crowd revealed to the world about the secret masters who control the Internet, which is, in fact, a box that is normally kept at Big Ben for the best reception. These people are “The Elders of the Internet“

    Who are these mysterious elders?

  • Novel Writing without Thomas Hardy

    It’s been a long time coming.

    Ten years, in fact, since I first formulated the idea for Fusion Patrol: 1999 as a Public Access TV series.

    Sadly, due to significant logistical problems that proved to be our undoing, we only got as far as producing the pilot episode, The Last Pizza and about 60% of principal photography on the second episode, Feng Shui.

    Nonetheless, I have a significant pile (that’s the technical term) of material associated with it. Scripts, scraps of ideas and snippets of dialog all litter (that’s also the technical term) my hard drives. From time to time I dust them off and say, “I really need to do something with this.” I re-adapted them as radio plays, tried to storyboard them as comic books and even toyed with the idea of generating them in a CGI form, but all to no avail.

    Two weeks ago, I undertook my latest effort, the novelization.

    This is quite an interesting project. I’ve set a target of about 75,000-85,000 words, which is typical of the accepted publishing size of a new author, and am currently seven chapters into the book at about the 16,000 word mark. What’s interesting is the discipline of writing.

    Writers are funny birds.

    I used to know this guy who owned a bookstore, and then he decided to write novels. I certainly don’t claim him as more than an acquaintance, and although he’s a nice guy, he’s not the type I’d hang out with. (He’s the chain-smoking, hard-drinking, hard-liquor type.) Anyway, I was talking to him one day before his first book was published, and we came across the topic of writer’s discipline. He explained his system to me.

    Every day I get up, I go to my typewriter and I write one chapter of my book before I allow myself a cigarette or a bourbon.

    Now, neither of those appeals to me, so they wouldn’t work for me, but I thought to myself, “Wow, that’s one way to force yourself to write.” Then his book came out and I was comped a copy. I sat down to read the first chapter, hearing his words in my mind, as I read the first page. I turned the page and I was now reading Chapter 2. So much for discipline. 🙂

    On the other hand, I’ve read of the habits of other authors, such as Leslie Charteris and Ian Flemming, both had disciplined systems, treating their writing as (shock and awe) their job. They had set routines that they stuck to each day.

    I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me, I find my writing to be very similar to the way I program. I’m a very fast programmer when I’m in the zone as it were, but I’m easily distracted. It helps when I turn up music really loud to drown out the rest of the world (Often, 007 or Star Trek soundtracks, or the Beatles or Herb Alpert). I can’t sleep with music on, it keeps my mind too active, but I can write because it seems to keep me on track. I never had understood that.

    Still, I find myself plowing through a certain portion of the novel or a program and then, I must get up, pace dramatically around the room and go over in mind where I’ve been and where I’m going.

    Any other writers out there have their quirky systems to share?