Nobody's home here for the time being...

Yeah, I know. There's nothing new here. Try this place.

I needed a change in scenery.

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Are you depressed because you don't live on Pandora? Wow! Get a life. I love that movie. But, get a life here on Earth! It ain't gonna happen.

Ma-Mamiya Ma-Mamiya!

Geeze, what a forgettable movie (Mamma Mia, Mamma Mia). But whether you pronounce it Mah-My-Ya or Mah-Mee-Yah, its's my "new" camera and flagship of my photographic armada for 2010.



I won't go into any of the details here...but suffice to say, Medium Format Film has been around for a long time and is still (and may always be) a staple of fine art, studio, and landscape photography.

I do have a few recently-acquired older film cameras, ie, a couple of Minolta 9000's (arguably one of best 35mm SLRs ever made), a couple of real old Pentax Spotmatics, and couple of Canon EOS Elan 35mm's, and my baby, a pristine 1979-ish Mamiya 645 1000s...and, an assortment of lenses for all of these formats. The entire booty hasn't cost me a quarter of what a near-new 12 megapixel digital SLR camera body (alone) would run. As a matter of technical fact: A 2 1/4 medium format negative is (arguably) equal in resolution to a 40-50 mp digital file. A 35mm negative is still far superior to any 10mp image.

Bottom line: I'm still using digital. However, I am going back to "old school" with film...both black & white and color.

No film (digitized through my new high-res scanner) files to upload yet. Soon, though.

It's scarier'n shit to push the shutter release with film...plus, I won't find out if I screwed up until the film is developed! Oh well, Ansel (admittedly) did most of his best work in the "darkroom"...now called Photoshop.

Eat Comfortable: Roasted Butternut Squash Soup

You know, I would probably have passed on this
soup five years ago. Just doesn't sound very
appetizing to my (at one time) limited palette.
However, after taking heed from Roth and Jen's
suggestion, I gave it a try. Those two are closer
to being true "foodies" than I ever will be. Their
version of this soup (I think) involved a brown sage butter; my version (due to lack of fresh sage at the time) uses some fresh rosemary and a few
other items not found in the recipes a pirated.

As with any soup, stew, casserole, or other
conglomerate recipe, the finished flavor profile is
entirely up to your own tastes. And will only be
successful when you learn to progressively season
throughout the process, again, to your own tastes.

This is the first time I made Roasted Butternut
Squash Soup. And if I do say, hit a triple in the
flavor department. You'll notice I didn't say
home-run as there is room for improvement, ie,
experimentation, especially when making a soup. I will use fresh sage next time and I will make
up a batch of my own chicken stock (versus canned broth fixed up with onions, carrots, and celery). There are simpler soups to make then this one. Just plan ahead and mis-en-place properly. And above all...season, taste...season, taste.

As a side note regarding serving and slurping of soups, here is a thought or two. Serving pretty
soups in shallow, wide white bowls look great on dinner tables and in food styling photos. However, even if you ladle the soup into a warm bowl, it will still get cool real fast at the table. At home during non-dinner party times, use a short, stout, thick sided soup bowl or, better yet, one of those crock-like handled bowls. Pop them in the oven at 150 degrees for 10 minutes or so before serving, it will hold the soup at a warmer temperature than those fancy, shallow bowls. By the way, same goes for any table service dishes like plates. Warm them in the oven before service. And, put salad plates in the freezer. Why not do these simple things to help ensure your hard-earned meal has every chance of receiving kudos (from your guests and from yourself)?

Just another day...

My sixtieth birthday has come and gone without much fanfare (by design). I've never had much of a desire to mark this date more than any other day during the year. Turning sixty years old is really not much of a landmark like sixteen or eighteen or twenty one or thirty. Sixty two will be somewhat worthy of note as I will begin receiving a nice little monthly paycheck, a raise of sorts.

This birthday for me is significant due to the fact that I made it at all. I suppose we all could make that statement about any birthday, "Another day above ground...it's all good!" Life is indeed short. My new cardiologist told me yesterday that all three of my major heart muscle arteries (we all have three big ones coming out of the aorta that supply blood to the heart muscles) are 100% closed. I live and breath today because of a couple of well-placed grafts and a small piece of wire mesh called a stent. No telling how temporary all of this is. I'm quite sure there is more medical magic waiting in the wings that may help extend my tenure. But, it is all temporary, for all of us. Our time on this earth is finite as individuals. I'm hoping for a few more years. Quite possibly I have a third of my life left, maybe more. Geeze, I hope so. I have too many other things left to do...some of which will be quite substantial in scope, possibly affecting many other people than just myself (in a positive manner).

So, taking stock at 60: I still have (most of) my mind, some of my hair, a lot of ideas and dreams, and plenty of time!

Irreverence is worse than you think...but not as bad as being a serial killer!

Wordplay...

I used to think the term irreverence, when it came to humor, meant simply being funny, as in comedian-stand-up-monologue-type-humor. After reading a few googled definitions on the word irreverence and its kin, it appears to be more closely related to the oft used contra-eufemism asshole.

According to one edictionary definition, irreverence means lack of reverence or due respect; or a disrespectful act or remark. Furthermore, stated synonyms include blasphemy, discourtesy, flippancy, insult, mockery, profanity, ridicule, and sauciness...among many others. In other words, someone who is the irreverent kind may also be considered a typical asshole.

To put this into a more understandable context, consider this. Someone you may view as being an asshole is not necessarily a really bad person, but a person who may even deserve your sympathy. For instance, you really wouldn't refer to a serial killer an an asshole, right. He or she is certainly much worse than being simply irreverent in his or her behavior. One might call this person a monster of sorts...a heinous human being...an abnormality...but not an asshole. On the flip side, you really wouldn't refer to irreverent late night comedians Jay Leno or Conan O'Brien as assholes. However, David Letterman may be considered an asshole. Letterman's irreverent humor and even more (admitted) irreverent, ie, ridiculous, flippant, profane, or saucy off camera behavior of late could certainly place him in that milieu. Yes, in my opinion, a diddler of subordinate employees is an asshole!

"You irreverent asshole!", would appear to be a redundant statement, correct? "You charming little asshole!"...a contradictory statement...a conundrum...a riddle...an enigma?

Am I an asshole for writing about this sort of thing? I don't think so. Irreverent? Yes.

Do ya' think?

During recent hospital visit...

Old Asian treadmill doctor: (glancing at Navy anchor tattoo on my forearm just prior to beginning stress test) Oh...you was in Navy?

Old cardio patient, ie, me: (rolling my eyes, glancing at nurse and smirking) No. I wasn't in the Navy. However, I was one of the original founding members of the Village People. You know, the sailor guy?

Nurse: (smiles, emits a quiet chuckle, and rolls her eyes too)

Old treadmill doctor: Oh, that's nice. Step onto treadmill please, Mr. Hansen.


Another encounter during hospital visit. Approximately 3:30 am in my room...

Nurse: Are you asleep, Mr. Hansen?

Me: (waking up, realizing someone was speaking to me and that I still had that nitro headache) Huh? Oh. No, I'm not asleep. I'm dead. Please leave the flowers and go!


This exchange occurred several times over several days with everyone from the ambulance guys, to nurses, visiting docs, to the lady taking my meal order, to the little old man emptying the trash...

Ambulance attendant: Mr. Hansen, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being worst, what is your pain level now?

Me: (one of my answers) What would one consider bad enough for a 10? Having your fingers sawed off one by one with a rusty steak knife while being forced to watch Star Wars VII: Jar Jar Binks, the Beginnings in iMax. It fucking hurts...like, maybe, OK (not wanting to sound like a wimp)...a 7, alright? A 7!

Ambulance attendant: Relax, Mr. Hansen. We're almost there.

Me: (thinking to myself) The first ride 23 years ago, I got a shitload of morphine on the way to hospital. This time, not even a tylenol!

Disclaimer: Truthfully, all of these conversations took place, I embellished a bit on my responses.