Once again it’s time to remember what happened on September 11, 2001. I recall the incident well, my astonishment and horror at watching the aircraft crash into the buildings. Then the aftermath — the burning buildings, desperate people jumping from so high up that the time to ground seemed interminable, then the ultimate collapse of the structures.
A couple of generations ago there was Pearl Harbor. My generation has 9/11. I will not forget, nor will I forgive.
![By Kevin Dooley [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons](http://randomruminations.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Cave_troll_as_corporate_bully.jpg)
I have been meaning to write an essay about Trolls for a long time. The notion started rolling around in my head a few years ago, then dropped off the table of my attention for some time. It was recently reawakened when I read some of the comments on many sites and is something I think is important.
I’ve had my encounters with Internet trolls any number of times. My most recent was a Facebook cross-posting of a tweet in which the poster indicated they intended to assault the first person they saw with an (legally) openly-carried sidearm. Their declared MO would be to pepper-spray the offending individual, then do a gun grab and hold them at gunpoint awaiting the police to arrive.
I cross-posted to my FB feed the offensive tweet (which contained the poster’s Twitter handle) and made a comment about the proposal being both illegal (it’s assault to a degree of deadly force) and idiotic (it’s a great way to be shot — being a deadly force assault). I went so far as to track down the poster’s Twitter feed and read some of the traffic there as well as the feed of responses, many from gun owners.
I was appalled by what I read. Yes, appalled!
I am positive the poster had no intention of assaulting an individual who was observed openly-carrying a sidearm. I’m also confident that the poster knew they would either be shot, arrested, or perhaps both if they attempted such an action. I asked myself, then, what could possibly be the motivation for such an asinine statement?
“Troll!” was my internal response. The poster’s motivation was to stir up gun owners and those who believe in the Constitution (the 2nd Amendment in particular). There was no other purpose.
The Twitter comments and retweets were rife with vitriol (another topic for an essay) on both sides. I read through a fair number of postings, then paused to shake my head in disgust. Too many individuals I would identify with spewed venomous responses, many to a degree that was unacceptable. What I mean by that was the “try that with me and see what happens” macho bullshit.
It does not matter what side of this (or any other issue) one takes. The nature of the “discussion” was not a discussion of the points of the issue. It rapidly became a series of ad hominem attacks that serve no purpose other than to 1) hurt individuals on the other side and 2) make the poster feel better about themselves and their position. This is completely unacceptable. It is illogical (at the least), it is unethical, and it is immoral. To threaten someone’s life because of what the believe is unacceptable.
Those people who are ardent supporters of gun-rights and carry-rights have to reign it in. The “Gun-Nut” moniker can be justifiably applied to those individuals who responded to the OP’s tweet. Perhaps the respondents were being honest (I doubt it). But the responses do nothing to demonstrate that those of us who strongly support the 2nd Amendment rights are reasonable and thoughtful. Those rights are being put into danger by the very supporters who responded to the OP’s tweet. It is the wrong thing to do. I don’t care which side one takes, such responses are still the wrong thing to do.
I think that reasonable dialogue is an important part of freedom. It’s a requirement for self-governance, which is the basis for our political system (through “representation”). That we have descended to such a state that meaningful dialogue is no longer the norm but the exception speaks to me that we are in grave danger of losing our ability to self-govern.
This is unacceptable. I expect that I am in the minority. I expect that the probability that our interaction with those we disagree with will not improve, in general. I wonder what happened to the idea that we are all Americans and that it is normal for us to disagree on many topics, but that we can still treat each other with respect and kindness, even in that disagreement. I fear that we are entering (or already in) a downward cultural spiral that will not end well. I want someone to prove me wrong.
N.B. I found an excellent article on dealing with Trolls on Hacking Christianity entitled Disarming Internet Trolls. It’s worth the time to read.
I stopped in Rigby, Idaho on my way east. That would be a few weeks ago, now. The Girl needed an outing and I don’t really like to stay in a motel room all the time, so we got out and wandered over to the city park. While we were there, I noticed this old gun. My guess is that it was once mounted on a warship, perhaps from WWII or the Korean War. In any event, it now resides in a city park — a reminder of our veterans and the machines they used to do the job.
After a little research, I found this article on the Bofors 40mm Gun. If you have an interest in such things, be sure to look through the archive of images. I love historical images and there are some great captures in this archive.
I can only imagine what it must have been like to be one of crew members operating this gun. I know that the crew hand fed the magazines using stripper clips of cartridges. That must have been crazy, with all the racket going on, not just of this weapon, but all the others adding to the noise and confusion.
There’s a nice video here: FPS Russia [YouTube]. The video is a fun watch.
I had so much fun with the gun, that I made a second image. I’m still amazed by this machine… no, I’m in awe of it, especially after watching the video.
While on my way from Nevada to Pennsylvania, I passed a museum of retired aerial tankers used for firefighting. The museum was next to a rest stop along the highway. The Girl and I both needed a break. But, the real reason is that when I come across something interesting, I stop. I have no idea if I will ever pass this place again. I have no idea whether I’ll even be alive in a day, a week, a month, or a year. Life is to be lived and if I don’t satisfy my curiosity, then what’s the use?
So, without ruminating on that too much, I pulled into the parking lot and stopped. I put the Girl’s vest on her to make her official. Too many “pet” owners have ruined access for our furry family members because they refuse to police up their animal’s feces and their animals are poorly behaved. So, those of us who take care of such things are penalized by the actions of those individuals.
Bah! Enough with the ranting/ruminating/whatever! We stopped, she dressed, and we took advantage of the facilities. Then we crossed the fence to the museum facility and entered.
Inside was a plethora of aerial firefighting memorabilia. They were running a video presentation of the machines and techniques used to fight fires from the air. There were lots and lots of pictures and a few books. There was a donation bin to support the facility and the aircraft on display. I made a donation, then we walked outside to check out the aircraft.
Of course, I got lots of questions about the Girl. I always do. I always take time to answer.
One of the ships was opened to permit a look at the inside. I loved this view of the office, so I made the capture. I’m glad I stopped. It was a unique experience and a fun view of these aircraft.
On one morning that seems so long ago, I took the Girl outside for her morning ritual before we began our day. We were living in Sparks at the time with our beloved friend Jimmy and had settled into a daily routine.
On this particular morning, the Girl was making her sniffy-rounds to determine if any interlopers had trespassed the night before. For some reason, something on the fence caught her eye. I watched her as her “hackle” (she doesn’t have enough outer coat to really have “hackles”) rose, her tail rose, and her posture stiffened. There is a tiny ball of fur that fluffs near the base of her tail (Older Son says she “has a mouse in her tail!”) and that expanded to its maximum dimension.
“Woof!” she said, followed by “grrrr…”. She was alerting me to the fact that there was something unusual on top of the fence.
So, of course, I had to make a capture of both the “problem” and the story. I laughed and laughed that morning. I love my funny Girl.
Then, morning business done, we headed back indoors to collect a few things and go for a long walk. It was a good day.
I decided to buy “credentials” for the Girl as a service animal and needed an image for her badge. Plus, Wednesday was National Dog Day (so named to coincide with the dog days of summer?) and I wanted to post her image in celebration thereof.
So, I asked her to pose for me and she obliged. The shot was executed with the Fujifilm X-T1 and Fuji’s excellent 35mm f/1.4 prime. She was in a good mood and so was I, so it was an easy shoot.
I think Daughter and I are driving to Lancaster this morning for a bit of shopping and to take care of a couple of errands. Then there will be football practice and scrimmage tonight, but I think I’ll stay at the house (perhaps with Younger Grandson) and either hang with him or finish a couple of tasks that remain on my list (for far too long).
My time here is good. It’s good to spend time with this part of my family. Yeah, I’m watching too much television. Yeah, I’m not writing enough, reading enough, or working on my craft enough. I think that is part of what this time is about and I will pick up those threads again when I depart and head west later this year.
There is no official certification for service dogs. There are several companies that provide (that is, sell) badges. The only reason I elected to buy a badge is for those people who do not know the law. If my dog provides a service that I need in order to live normally (and meets the criteria in the law), and she is trained to provide that service, and she is trained to behave in public, then she is a service animal. She does all these things.
The problem is that arrogant people have learned that they can take advantage of the law to take pets into public places. Fake service dogs are usually readily identifiable. They are poorly behaved because most handlers never really train their pets. They make it more difficult for folks who have genuine service animals because of the increased scrutiny that comes from bad experience (from fake service dogs).
Although the Girl is still in her “In Training” tags, she is ready for graduation. She does what I need her to do and behaves herself in public. She is not perfect but perfection is not required. We continue to work, which is good for both of us.
As we travel, I’ve collected a number of experiences. Most businesses don’t hassle us. I am sometimes asked if she is a service dog. I sometimes get a skeptical eye. One person asked me about her and then said “You don’t look like you need a service dog.” I was not prepared for that comment, but the answer is that “It’s not always apparent and that is not an appropriate comment or question.”
The best times are when we finish our business and someone says “I didn’t even know there was a dog!” That means she’s doing her job of blending in quietly and providing me with the service that I need. That’s actually happening quite a lot and I’m proud of the Girl for being so good.
Finally, to take one last tangent in this rumination, I’m really proud of my Little Girl. She is genuinely good, loving, and a great mom. She handles herself with aplomb and grace, but is not naive. I’m blessed to call her Daughter.
Sunsets are good. They are almost always good. But, some are better than others. Last night at Younger Grandson’s football practice, I was watching him work through drills and play practice. I noticed the sunbeams through a gap in the clouds and pointed them out to Daughter and Older Grandson.
I then withdrew the Leica from its pouch and made a few captures. One of my personal goals is to make one decent image every day. I have not been doing this in any disciplined manner. If I aspire to be a photographer (of any sort), then I must continue working on my craft. Part of that is the technical — doing the technical part correctly. Part of it is artistic — finding the composition, the light, and the subject that speaks to my Muse. Part of it is discipline — getting out every day to find something to capture, even if it’s something as commonplace as a sunset.
When I reviewed my captures this morning, this one made me think of the Fantastic Four’s Johnny — “Flame On!”
On my first loop from Carson City, I spent a night in Alturas, California. I believe I wrote a bit about that part of my journey some months ago. In any event, I noticed this iris was strongly backlit and it was striking against the darker background. So, I paused my play with the Girl and made the capture. It’s one of my favorite images from that trip and a great memory of the place.
A few weeks ago, Jimmy and I elected to drive to Java Jungle in downtown Reno. Arttown was still going on and we had not been out and about much. Jimmy was working a lot and so was I. So, our social time had been limited to passings-by now and again. It was time and it was good to be out.
It was too warm for coffee, so I elected to have an iced tea, black of course. I got there a bit before Jimmy and had the Girl sitting next to me on the bench, watching the world go by. I noticed three squids (motorcycle riders who are/think-they-are racers) BS’ing at another table. They were telling war stories of various kinds.
Jimmy showed up, got his coffee, and sat down. We were chatting and people-watching when a beautiful young woman walked along the sidewalk outside the Java Jungle seating area.
“Get your camera ready…” Jimmy said, “I saw her up the street a bit ago.
“She’s gorgeous… and I only have the normal lens on my camera.”
The squids called out to her — not the catcall I expected, but asked her “Do you want a ride?” She gave them this stunning big smile and her demeanor was of the naive.
“I have no pants,” she said, and I immediately recognized that she was not a native English speaker.
“What’s that accent?” I asked Jimmy.
“Balkans.”
“It sounds like Ukrainian or Belorussian to me.”
The squids continued to talk her up and she clearly wanted a ride. There was a spare helmet and jacket and they found her some gloves, but no pants. So, she tucked her skirt under her butt when she climbed aboard.
“I hope he doesn’t scare her,” I looked at Jimmy.
“He probably will…” was Jimmy’s dry reply.
“She seems a bit naive to me,” I looked at Jimmy.
“She’s not,” he replied, “It’s part of the European woman package. They have a deep sense of who they are and they present themselves well.”
I watched her ride off with the motorcyclist. He appeared to be taking it easy on her — he made an easy turn onto the street and didn’t goose the bike on the takeoff. They were gone a few minutes and then returned. Jimmy was shooting away, having a zoom on his camera. I just watched. Her friend/handler arrived and they sat down. Then she came over to our table.
“You shoot a lot of pictures,” she said.
“It’s street photography,” I chimed in.
“What is ‘street photography?'” she asked. So we explained about the fun of wandering about looking for interesting things, people, and actions.
“Where are you from? Belarus?”
“Lithuania,” she smiled. Jimmy grinned and introduced me as ‘Dr. Dave,’ as he always does.
“Did he scare you,” I asked.
“A little,” she smiled, “but not too bad.”
Sometime during the conversation, one of us mentioned how beautiful she was. “All the girls are pretty in Lithuania,” she responded.
I have no idea whether that is true or not. But, Angelica has much more than just good looks. She has poise, intelligence, and carries herself with confidence and a kind of innocence. It was a pleasure to meet her and the capture is one of my favorites.
Jimmy asked for her email address to send her some of the captures. I looked over to her friend/handler and said “I bet this happens quite a lot.” He looked back at me, shrugged, and grinned.
I enjoy these chance encounters. When I remember to get an informal portrait, they are even better. I MUST learn to ask for the shot when I have these conversations with people I meet. I don’t know what it is about me that prevents me from asking. But I have to get over that.
“Football season is our busiest time of the year,” Daughter said. She was being honest. It’s been a very busy week. But, I’m ahead of myself.
I finally buckled down and drove out the remaining miles to Daughter’s home. I spent a lot of time on the turnpikes (which I deplore) and another night in a motel. I did pause to pick up geocaches in states where I had not found any so as to collect the “souvenirs” for those states. The pauses gave me an opportunity to see some of the country that I had not seen. But the focus was on “getting there.”
Daughter has a wonderful house. They are in the process of filling it in as time and money allow. The grandsons are wonderful, as I expected. I’m deeply enjoying spending time with them. I’ve watched more TV than I have in years, but it’s fun to simply be with my family.
Daughter is amazing. A deep calm strength emanates from her. There is confidence there and well as competence. The boys are attentive and respectful. I expected that, given their Father. It is good to not have to be the one in charge for a change. I am not the leader here, just a beloved family member. It is good.
I’ve been going to football practice with Daughter and Younger Grandson (YG). Daughter and I sit on the sidelines and observe while YG works. He’s got a great attitude and is not afraid to mix it up a bit. He’s learned a lot, I can tell. I shot a bit of video of his workouts and will share that material with Daughter. She can do whatever she wants with it.
Saturday was the YG’s first scrimmage this year. OG, Daughter, and I sat on the sidelines (along with the Girl in her training vest). It was hot and humid, but not awful. I think I finally got some Sun on my right leg, which is usually shaded by the 4Runner when I’m driving. I have a farmer-tan on my left side and it’s time to balance it out a bit.
The scrimmage was round-robin style. With the exception of one team, it was fun to watch. The lead coach of one team was a total butt. He was screaming at his kids and had a generally bad attitude. I’m thinking he’s a candidate for the antagonist of one of the Karate Kid movies. These are ten-year old boys, for goodness’ sake, not professional players. There’s a lot of learning for them to do and it can be done in a far better way.
Enough of that…
Friday we drove up to Gettysburg to visit the national park. I put the Girl in her training vest and she was perfect! She went right to work, stayed close to me, was very attentive, and did exactly what she was supposed to do. We visited “The Cyclorama,” which is a huge oil painting of Pickett’s Charge and is accompanied by a soundtrack. There were several cannonades, which the attendant warned me about. Although the Girl didn’t like the loud noises, she only trembled a bit and realized this was not thunder.
They made us take the elevator to avoid the escalator. I didn’t remember, but the Girl knows escalators and has no problem with them. I have video of my lead trainer working her on the escalators at the airport last Christmas and the Girl did great. But, she knows elevators too and was fine with it, even as herky-jerky as it was. They put us in the handicapped seats so the Girl could place next to me. I put her in a down-stay and she was fine. The cannon blasts and rifle reports disturbed her a bit, but not badly.
We drove part of the CD-guided automobile tour. The entire place has a sense of the holy about it. I want to go back and spend more time there. They have a number of short hikes to various places that would be good to see. It is also possible to hire a guide to go along to tell the story. I want to spend time there with my cameras, but that will mean getting up early to get the good light.
Pennsylvania reminds me a lot of Missouri. There’s lots of vegetation, the air is warm and humid, and wildlife is abundant. I stepped out the back door with the Girl Sunday morning for her morning outing and watched a wild turkey at the treeline between lots. That was a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.
I’m very happy I decided to come here. It’s good to be with family, I haven’t seen Daughter and her family in two years (since Wife died), and it is good to see new lands.
