Not Even Christmas
The weather has been wonderful, the sun shining (the birds singing, the ladies skipping naked down the Oakland streets) and this head cold, chest cold of mine is slowly receding. I believe I've said that now in three separate entries, three entries spread out over more than a week. One does not feel like writing when one's little noggin hurts. Isn't that a stereotype? Men complain about every little thing unless it's a big little thing? Clipped by a bullet in a fracas with the Purple Gang, sitting crumpled against a wall, thin lipped, ironic smile, a joke with the sargent knowing you'll be dead in another minute. Foolish. A reverie of the very young or the too many years of mainlining after dinner television. We don't fantasize about being clipped by a bullet at my age anymore, unless we're being paid by the word and, if the truth be known, we're not being paid by the word.
No, I don't know where it came from either. Journals are notorious for complaining and I suspect I can't get away with calling this anything else. I'm not. No, really. I'm describing. This thing could be much worse, I know from experience. The sun (as I mentioned) is shining, I have learned in these last few days about what digital photographers call workflow; the steps required to quickly move large numbers of digital pictures out of the camera and into a commercial printer, something I've not known how to do since I bought this digital Nikon. Some time ago.
I don't know what makes me wait so long before I'm willing to buckle down and learn those things I need to make all this hardware work. I have a general idea where I want this photography thing to go, but I've bought the necessary equipment and put off learning how to use it for months and months and months. I understand this is not unusual in the human scheme, but it's odd and embarrassing to see it so obviously demonstrated here.
Still, you seem to have arrived, digital workflow and all. Sounds like something a business consultant would write: digital workflow.
True. The weekend Nikon seminar I attended recommended a web site called Dry Creek Photo, which posts IC printer profiles for commercial shops that provide digital printing services around the country. The one entry for Berkeley is Color Express. I visited Color Express over on Shattuck. I'm going to bring them a CD Monday. By the time I return to work I will have cleared my backlog of promised photographs. A miracle and it's not even Christmas yet, here in Oakland.