It’s a living

If someone asked me what we’d be doing on Thursday, I wouldn’t have said we were going to go to Walmart and buy an aquarium. I wouldn’t have said I’d spend a good chunk of my afternoon in a dark studio, sitting in a reasonably comfy chair and clicking the remote shutter release while a friend splashed water in the tank. But that’s what we did…it was pretty cool. It’ll be even cooler to see what the artist does with these splashes!

It’s those little bits of unusual activity that make life, and work, fun. I once got paid very well by ESPN to just sit on the SportsCenter set while they aimed the lights and set the cameras, drinking free Powerade and Red Bull. Or sitting in an isolated room, trying to capture the right sound of someone’s feet being dragged. The hydraulics and air-wrench sound you hear at the end of the Northwest Tire commercials? That was in my garage. I bet I did two dozen takes of that sound!

No matter what the job, there are always cool little deviations from the routine that help break the monotony. If you ever have one of those fleeting moments where you think, “I can’t believe I’m getting paid for this!” go ahead and savor them a little. It makes up for the boring days that are bound to come along in any job.

Happy Birthday!

This is a happy belated birthday to our fluffy little friend, Scooter. He was hatched on October 16th, nine years ago! He was hand fed for a while and weaned at the Bird House…when he and his brothers and sisters came to the store, they let me pick the first one of the batch! I picked him, waited for him to get old enough, and brought him home in a little paper transporter box tucked into my jacket. The rest is history.

Over nine years, this little guy has become an irreplacable part of our home. He’s been with me longer than I’ve owned the house; longer than I’ve been a Christian; longer than I’ve known my wife; longer than I’ve held my current job. He’s always been there when I’ve been sick or unhappy. He’s got more personality than you’d think a tiny little bird could hold. After some time to adjust, he’s become quite a cuddle buddy for Stacy, too!

The experts who write all the lovebird books say that lovebirds can’t talk. They should meet Scooter. He can say a few words very well, lots of words that only I can understand, and he knows what he hears. If I stay in bed on the weekend I can hear him practicing his words. He’ll say things more and more slowly, with the pitch of his voice getting lower, until he nails it. Then he gets so excited he goes right back to tweeting! I’ve read in multiple places that birds in the parrot family have a comprehension of a two or three year old. In his case I’d believe it.

Don’t misunderstand…having a bird is a lot of work; they require attention similar to a small child as well. You can’t just put them in a cage and treat them as an ornament; it’ll kill them. While lovebirds do not have to be kept in pairs, they do need interaction and stimulation such as new toys frequently, changing their surroundings a bit…things to keep them from getting bored. We also are very aware of open doors and/or windows (as in, there aren’t any) and any other hazards. Air fresheners and scented candles are toxic within minutes, so we don’t have any. Teflon pans, when overheated, will kill a bird in minutes as well. So we are constantly vigilant that nothing happens to our little guy, just as we would a child. With wings. Imagine the trouble they can get into if unsupervised!

Tonight we’ll celebrate with him by bringing home a sesame-seed bun from his favorite fast food restaurant. We’ll get in a good game of peek-a-boo, some of his favorite paper to shred, and then just skritch the feathers on the back of his neck until he falls asleep. A bird couldn’t ask for a better day…we should all be so easy to please.

Hawk a-hunting


I was on my way from work to pick up a Green Mill pizza last night when…what? Yes, as a matter of fact I *do* take the long way. Okay, let me start over. I was on my way from my office east of Bismarck to the Green Mill by way of the Briardale area, or thereabouts. The sky looked like it was particularly suited for a shot of the blockhouses from Fox Island, so I began to work my way back there when I saw this: a hawk getting ready for dinner.

I’m not sure what the unfortunate furry creature was, other than dinner. This hawk had caught it just outside of its burrow and made short work of it. It didn’t take long for the razor sharp beak or talons to slice this meal into hastily gobbled strips. Either this was a particularly tasty meal, or a particularly hungry hawk, because he was afraid neither of my truck nor myself approaching on foot. He was already fewer than twenty feet from the road, and it wasn’t a high traffic area, so he felt comfortable sticking around to finish his meal.

I could say that I have a way with birds…but I doubt that’s true for hawks. Every time I get near one and get my camera ready, they bolt. I’ve chased great blue herons, pelicans, and hawks over the year and a half since I bought my camera…and only had marginal success. This gracious hawk gave me my big break as he let me approach. I slowly worked my way closer…

and closer…enough to see that he had some ketchup or something around his beak…

and that was about enough. He’d finished his dinner and I was about six feet away. We sat and looked at each other for several minutes before we’d both had enough. I stood, he hopped over into the bushes along the river, and we parted ways…he across the river by flight, me to the Green Mill by big knobby tires.

Now, if I can just get him to give a reference to the pelicans and herons for me…

Welcome sight in the skies – The 112th

I was out looking for pheasants this afternoon and saw a different kind of bird overhead. One of the local Blackhawk helicopters was performing maneuvers, so I stopped to observe. When they drop in fast, they’re really cool to watch!

What this reminded me of, though, is that some of our local soldiers are home. They came in on Friday after a tour of duty in Bosnia! It was such a blessing to see them return, get handshakes from Governor Hoeven and hugs & kisses from loved ones. I was there to meet my friend Reed, with whom I’ve been causing mayhem since the *ahem* 80s, and the rest of his unit. There were lots of people there to greet them. See that crazy looking guy with the video camera on the left? That’s “Racer” Brown from KFYR. If you ever see him, tell him I told you to ask him about his nickname.

It’s such a great thing to know someone who serves their country by putting their life on the line! Some are like my friend Reed, who have been serving since high school, knowing that things like a year away from his wife and family might be required of him. Others are like my friend Alex, who signed up last year with the knowledge that he’d likely see combat in someplace hot and sandy. Then there are the husbands and wives who sacrifice too, staying behind while their loved ones go overseas to serve. I can’t even imagine what that takes. Thanks, guys… I just don’t know how else to say it. Thanks.

Grant’s tomb

This is the monument marking the grave of Grant Marsh. You may recognize his name from the bridge over the Missouri River on I-94. He was a ferry boat captain back in the 1800s, and has accomplished some noteworthy feats. One of them is outlined on this marker.

I want to be more specific about this particular marker, but I can’t. Why? I’ll let you know in a post I plan to write this weekend when I have more time. It’s quite entertaining, especially if you’re a geek.

Spooky Sunday

This is hardly the image I expected to bring back from the river bottoms this afternoon, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. Yes, that’s right…this image was shot at around 4:30 in the afternoon. With the use of a polarizer and a throttled-down iris, I was able to get this picture to look a little more like an enchanted evening.

Photography is SO cool. If you haven’t tried it, you’re missing out on a whole new perspective on the world. One doesn’t have to start out with an expensive camera; I didn’t. It’s like high-performance motorcycles, really… you should get something you can handle first, get a bunch of experience with it, then trade up to something more capable and grow into it.

Perhaps the greatest tool I’ve ever had available, however, isn’t a fancy camera. It’s the expertise of my friend Kramer, who really ignited my passion for photography. He’s got a ton of experience and an intricate knowledge of the North Dakota wilderness, and he’s helped me to begin to grasp an understanding of both. We’ve actually worked together for 18 years at various television and multimedia companies, but it wasn’t until we got to shoot photos together at our current job that his love of still imagery rubbed off on me.

I’ve got an advantage by having a friend who’s the Encyclopedia Photographica, but it’s not just technical knowledge that one has to pick up. One of the first things I learned was that “being there” is perhaps the most important element of a photograph. The “right place, right time” element of a picture is one that can’t be Photoshopped; either you got the picture, or you didn’t. That’s why I learned to lug my (heavy) camera with me all the time. There have been many cases in which I’m glad I did, and a few times where I’d left it at home where I regret it.

Photography, much like motorcycling, snowboarding, SCUBA diving, mountain biking, karate, or any of the other things I’ve tried to cram into my busy existence, is a way of life. It’s a way that I’d recommend to anyone in a heartbeat…not just on a “spooky” Sunday afternoon.

If deer could read

These deer don’t have to…as long as they stay put. They seem pretty comfortable along the Heart River in Mandan, near the YCC. They were grazing pretty happily when I came along, and weren’t even took shaken by the presence of me or my truck. If they know what’s good for them, they’ll stay within sight of that crooked red and white sign!

Cold snap

With temperatures as much as twenty to thirty degrees below the statistical normal for this time of year, it looks like someone got caught unprepared in my neighborhood. I spotted this poor little guy huddled under a car, trying to keep warm. I don’t think this is Greg because he’s a little too plump for my recollection. Nevertheless, it’s hard not to have a little bit of sympathy for a cute, furry, shivering creature.

Naturally, one wishes we could cuddle, coddle, and provide for every little creature out there…at least the cute ones, anyway. Obviously that’s neither prudent nor even possible, and wild animals don’t really want to be cuddled anyway. But I’m reasonably sure this little fella will do just fine in the cold, especially once his fur thickens for the approaching winter.

Column of snowfall

Today’s snowfall came in an unusual, spotty fashion. As I watched the waves of snow roll by, I noticed this big column down ol’ Highway 10. While I stood taking this photograph, it felt like a similar column of cold and snow rolled right over the top of me! With highs today almost 30 degrees below the statistical normal, it sure was a chilly day. Not chilly enough, however, to keep the camera in the bag.

Those union Bobcat strikers are a joke

After helping a friend move in the rain tonight, I drove past Bobcat and saw a few picketers putting in a cold night. They waved as I went by, obviously trying not to look like they’re standing out there in raw greed. I waved back but I certainly disagree with them.

Factory work has never struck me as particularly stimulating. I’ve always considered that the reason that I know a lot of people who like making Bobcat money, but don’t really claim to love their job there. But there are plenty of people hiring around town…if you’re unhappy with your job, thankfully there are plenty of other places hiring.

What’s that, you say? They aren’t paying as much as Melroe at those other jobs? You mean those other places don’t pay you a signing bonus every time the union’s collective bargaining agreement comes up for renewal? Then what are you people so darn upset about?

I worked happily at KFYR-TV for 14 years. When I left in 2003, I could have marched directly over to Melroe and started at a dollar per hour MORE than I had made after almost a decade and a half working at KFYR! And I dare say that editing commercials, generating graphics, and directing newscasts for a four-station TV network is a little more complicated than hanging parts on a paint rack.

Don’t get me wrong…like I said, I worked happily at KFYR-TV for those fourteen years. I didn’t leave because of money. I worked the same sort of silly hours that one would expect at Melroe. But yet I made do pretty well; before age 30 I owned a house, had 5 motorcycles and a beater car…and Scooter, of course. Maybe the people picketing right now need to learn to be content with what they have, because I can guarantee they’re making a lot more than many other Bismarck-Mandan workers.

I tried the union thing once…in fact, I was even the shop steward at KFYR. The lesson I took from it was that people who work very hard get treated the same as people who don’t. Other than that, I really didn’t see a huge benefit. We had even less leverage than the Bobcat workers due to our smaller numbers and, after realizing it was a joke, all the employees let their memberships lapse.

So…now these people want their entire health care paid for by Melroe. I don’t get health insurance at all from my current employer, and I knew that when I tried very hard to get hired there. I’ve never figured it’s his obligation to provide it, either. Employers offer benefits like a health plan as an incentive to hire employees…in this case, there were far greater incentives for me to join the company. If health insurance ever gets that important to me, well…then I suppose I’ll look for a similar job that offers health insurance benefits. But I’m certainly not going to storm into my boss’ office and demand that he provide it. I’d be even less likely to stand outside our office with a sign whining about how unfair he is for not acceding to my demands.

My unsolicited advice for the striking Bobcat workers is to shut up and go back to work, or shut up and go get a job that provides everything that you demand. If you find such a job in the Bismarck-Mandan area, let me know. I’m pretty sure all my readers would like an application and an address to which they can sbmit their resume’.