It's Christmas in May ...
And Santa's Workshop is not at the North Pole, it's at the International Centre out by the airport in Toronto
The Media Photography and Media Show is one of my yearly (or nearly so) convention treks Cameras and lights and wireless lav packs oh my!
Actually one of the things I was hoping to pick up at the show this year was indeed a wireless mic kit to go with my new Sony NX cam. I've been on several websites, including Henry's Camera which sponsors this show, as found a Sure combo wireless kit with both a lav (lapel mic) and handeld. I've seen prices vary from 300 to as low as 140
So at the show I go to the Sure booth .. not only did the two represenatives of the company had to fumble through a bunch of catalogues to find the kit (um, I an fumble all on my own thank you) they came up with a price of 800 bucks ...
I didn't pay to get into the show. You get what you pay for they say
I did pick up a Sevenoak steadicam type cam stabilizer, more on that later
But here's a little video with some of the highlights of the show
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Thursday, May 22, 2014
URBAN MYTHS DECODED: THE STICK EATER
There are many strange things out there my friends
Beasties, monsters, genetic backwaters
Yeti, Nessie, Ogo Pogo .. are any of them real?
We continue in our quest to decode urban myths. In this edition we explore the legend of the strange, rarely seen beast known as the Stick Eater
Myth or reality?
You decide
DISCLAIMER: All the content of this video is verified as authentic and true except for all the things that have been made up
Beasties, monsters, genetic backwaters
Yeti, Nessie, Ogo Pogo .. are any of them real?
We continue in our quest to decode urban myths. In this edition we explore the legend of the strange, rarely seen beast known as the Stick Eater
Myth or reality?
You decide
DISCLAIMER: All the content of this video is verified as authentic and true except for all the things that have been made up
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
YOU KNOW YOU'RE GETTING OLDER WHEN ...
The May long weekend as passed. May two four. May twofer
Remember when you called it that, May twofer. Remember what that meant to you?
Yeh man, long weekend, a twofer of beer ... or wine or whiskey or tequilla .. the latter of which could lead to a two day stay in a hospital .. or jail cell but what the fuck .. IT'S THE LONG WEEKEND
Camping, drinking, barfing, boating, barfing, partying, barfing, BBQ, bar... you get the idea
Call the fam, call the friends, everyone chip in, rent a van, find a hotel/campsite/improperlymaintainedhouse ... party IT'S THE LONG WEEKEND
Times have changed my friends
This May Twofer it was .. Great, let's mow the lawn, buy a Weedeater, rake up the leaves, take the dog for an extra long walk, have a BBQ and cue up the last three episodes of Game of Thrones
Yeh .. it's, um, the Long Weekend
Party on dudes
Remember when you called it that, May twofer. Remember what that meant to you?
Yeh man, long weekend, a twofer of beer ... or wine or whiskey or tequilla .. the latter of which could lead to a two day stay in a hospital .. or jail cell but what the fuck .. IT'S THE LONG WEEKEND
Camping, drinking, barfing, boating, barfing, partying, barfing, BBQ, bar... you get the idea
Call the fam, call the friends, everyone chip in, rent a van, find a hotel/campsite/improperlymaintainedhouse ... party IT'S THE LONG WEEKEND
Times have changed my friends
This May Twofer it was .. Great, let's mow the lawn, buy a Weedeater, rake up the leaves, take the dog for an extra long walk, have a BBQ and cue up the last three episodes of Game of Thrones
Yeh .. it's, um, the Long Weekend
Party on dudes
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
BORDER COLLIE WEATHER
Rain stings my face.
Back in the trees, I could not feel it; it's not a heavy rain, it's an early spring rain and this spring that means cold and sharp and it clings to my beard. I bow my head, pull up my hood and move forward into the low rolling hills of the ravine.
Terra breaks out of the trees behind me. She pauses there on the crest of the hill, just as I had. Her eyes narrow in the rain but her muzzle raises up almost of its own volition it seems and I can see her nostrils flare as she fills her mind and her body with the scents all around her.
The ears come up, just for a second pricked in the classic Border Collie way but that is not her way and after a moment the ears lay back down. I've gotten about 20 feet ahead of her and of course, that will not do. The head lowers just a bit, her long lanky body surges forward, the muscles moving under her glossy black fur like the current of a deep cold dark river.
She is at my side in seconds; she slows, not quite pausing and tilts her head just enough to let me know that she is looking at me. I move my hand in a practised way and I quietly say "Go ahead little girl."
And she goes.
Due to the weather, the big park is empty. Green rolling hills fringed with elm trees and willows and poplars. I know that there is a street just beyond those trees, that overpasses arch above us but I can ignore that.
Terra is moving ahead of me, not full out running but moving swiftly, tail up and curled with its distinctive crook in the end, her nose down, running it through the wet grass.
She is scenting, or trying to scent. Border collies are not scent dogs, they are sight dogs. When Terra wants something she "asks with here eyes" which means usually laying down on her belly and staring at the object she desires ... and I mean staring. Eyes locked on, body incredibly still, I swear her breathing changes; this is entire focus this is concentration, this is a dog saying "You idiot it's there, it's right there, that thing, right there!"
But now she is moving through the high grass, the wetness clinging to the long feathered fur on the backs of her legs, he nose down, head swinging. She is not a scent dog. Up north one winter I found deer tracks, fairly fresh, in the snow and I put her nose right in them; off she went, following the scent, till she got to the point where the deer tracks went right. Terra went left.
But she is just casting now, curious, picking up scents of other dogs, squirrels, raccoons maybe. There are coyotes in this ravine. I'm not sure what she would do if she scented them, run like hell probably. She's a smart dog.
We come to a part where the ravine becomes quite steep, the wooded slope rising up at a very sharp angle to a height of about 30 or 40 feet. She goes to where the wall of the ravine begins to rise; she stops, turns only her head to look at me, mouth open tongue lolling eyes bright. I quietly say "Go ahead little girl."
And she goes.
She flies straight up, very fast, easily leaping over logs, flowing under branches, fearless; she's scented a squirrel and she begins to bark, still running, moving fast, totally happy in that moment,
I continue along the trail, heading back into thicker trees as Terra runs the ravine, sometimes barking sometimes quiet, intense and focussed at one moment then completely hyper and loud and explosive in the next.
I lose sight of her from time to time in the trees but I know she knows where I am. She is my border collie and I am her master, her leader, her shepherd if you will. She always knows where I am.
The rain is getting heavier now, soaking through my hoodie. I shove my hands into my pockets, hunching my shoulders. Terra comes bounding down the wall of the ravine at full speed, her fur soaked through, her normally full tail looking rat like.
She is smiling. She is happy. She comes barreling along the trail, mud spattering and sticking to her fur. She skids to a halt right in front of me, the mouth open her eyes gleaming. She tilts here head as if to say "Where to next"
When I had Hayley and Terra together we had a "dog park friend" a lady from England who also had two border collies. She had grown up with the breed. One day we were in the park with our four days, a day much like this one, with low clouds and cold blowing rain and an empty ravine. We were miserable us two humans but the four border collies were ranging ahead of us; quiet and swift and feeling the roll of the hills, their noses in their wind, eyes slitted against the cold hard rain.
The lady stopped me with her hand and had me watch the dogs for a moment. "Look at them. They love this. This is border collie weather."
So now she is at my feet, looking up at me as if to ask "Where to next"
I pull the hood tighter around my head, feeling the sting of the rain and I say to her "Go ahead little girl"
And we go
Back in the trees, I could not feel it; it's not a heavy rain, it's an early spring rain and this spring that means cold and sharp and it clings to my beard. I bow my head, pull up my hood and move forward into the low rolling hills of the ravine.
Terra breaks out of the trees behind me. She pauses there on the crest of the hill, just as I had. Her eyes narrow in the rain but her muzzle raises up almost of its own volition it seems and I can see her nostrils flare as she fills her mind and her body with the scents all around her.
The ears come up, just for a second pricked in the classic Border Collie way but that is not her way and after a moment the ears lay back down. I've gotten about 20 feet ahead of her and of course, that will not do. The head lowers just a bit, her long lanky body surges forward, the muscles moving under her glossy black fur like the current of a deep cold dark river.
She is at my side in seconds; she slows, not quite pausing and tilts her head just enough to let me know that she is looking at me. I move my hand in a practised way and I quietly say "Go ahead little girl."
And she goes.
Due to the weather, the big park is empty. Green rolling hills fringed with elm trees and willows and poplars. I know that there is a street just beyond those trees, that overpasses arch above us but I can ignore that.
Terra is moving ahead of me, not full out running but moving swiftly, tail up and curled with its distinctive crook in the end, her nose down, running it through the wet grass.
She is scenting, or trying to scent. Border collies are not scent dogs, they are sight dogs. When Terra wants something she "asks with here eyes" which means usually laying down on her belly and staring at the object she desires ... and I mean staring. Eyes locked on, body incredibly still, I swear her breathing changes; this is entire focus this is concentration, this is a dog saying "You idiot it's there, it's right there, that thing, right there!"
But now she is moving through the high grass, the wetness clinging to the long feathered fur on the backs of her legs, he nose down, head swinging. She is not a scent dog. Up north one winter I found deer tracks, fairly fresh, in the snow and I put her nose right in them; off she went, following the scent, till she got to the point where the deer tracks went right. Terra went left.
But she is just casting now, curious, picking up scents of other dogs, squirrels, raccoons maybe. There are coyotes in this ravine. I'm not sure what she would do if she scented them, run like hell probably. She's a smart dog.
We come to a part where the ravine becomes quite steep, the wooded slope rising up at a very sharp angle to a height of about 30 or 40 feet. She goes to where the wall of the ravine begins to rise; she stops, turns only her head to look at me, mouth open tongue lolling eyes bright. I quietly say "Go ahead little girl."
And she goes.
She flies straight up, very fast, easily leaping over logs, flowing under branches, fearless; she's scented a squirrel and she begins to bark, still running, moving fast, totally happy in that moment,
I continue along the trail, heading back into thicker trees as Terra runs the ravine, sometimes barking sometimes quiet, intense and focussed at one moment then completely hyper and loud and explosive in the next.
I lose sight of her from time to time in the trees but I know she knows where I am. She is my border collie and I am her master, her leader, her shepherd if you will. She always knows where I am.
The rain is getting heavier now, soaking through my hoodie. I shove my hands into my pockets, hunching my shoulders. Terra comes bounding down the wall of the ravine at full speed, her fur soaked through, her normally full tail looking rat like.
She is smiling. She is happy. She comes barreling along the trail, mud spattering and sticking to her fur. She skids to a halt right in front of me, the mouth open her eyes gleaming. She tilts here head as if to say "Where to next"
When I had Hayley and Terra together we had a "dog park friend" a lady from England who also had two border collies. She had grown up with the breed. One day we were in the park with our four days, a day much like this one, with low clouds and cold blowing rain and an empty ravine. We were miserable us two humans but the four border collies were ranging ahead of us; quiet and swift and feeling the roll of the hills, their noses in their wind, eyes slitted against the cold hard rain.
The lady stopped me with her hand and had me watch the dogs for a moment. "Look at them. They love this. This is border collie weather."
So now she is at my feet, looking up at me as if to ask "Where to next"
I pull the hood tighter around my head, feeling the sting of the rain and I say to her "Go ahead little girl"
And we go
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