365 True Things: 351/Astronauts

Back on January 4, 2013, George Takei posted this  ☜ on Facebook, referring to a Twitter exchange the day before between "Captain Kirk" of the starship Enterprise and Commander Chris Hadfield of the International Space Station. Leonard Nimoy soon contributed to the conversation—"LLAP"—followed by Wil Wheaton (The Next Generation), and finally Buzz Aldrin (second man to walk on the moon) himself, who tweeted: "Neil [Armstrong] & I would've tweeted from the moon if we could have but I would prefer to tweet from Mars. Maybe by 2040."

I didn't actually see any of this. I'm not much of a Twitter user, and at that time I didn't follow George Takei—though it was possibly when I got wind of all this that I started to.

But somehow, several weeks later, this burst of Twittery marvelousness did come to my attention, and thus I was introduced to Col. Chris Hadfield, astronaut. I learned he was sharing amazing photographs and videos, experiences and thoughts, on his Facebook page. I started following him, riveted especially by his daily photos of the earth from space. For example (a random sampling):

Moose Jaw, SK, and the airport where I truly learned how to fly.
Home of the renowned RCAF Snowbirds aerobatic team.

Sometimes Mother Nature uses a protractor, like here in
New Zealand's South Island. [Waitaki River, natural
boundary between Otago and Canterbury]

Antwerp, Belgium, with the Scheldt river like lightning
sparking up the city.

Tonight's Finale: In proportion, our atmosphere is
no thicker than the varnish on a globe. Deceptively fragile.

His photos all still reside on Facebook, and it's wonderful to tour through them from time to time. Occasionally he would remark about a photo of a city from high above: "Two million of us live here." Reminding us that we all inhabit this amazing planet together.

Of course you've seen his "Space Oddity" video, right?

The reason I'm thinking about him today is a TED talk I watched this morning about fear. It's an interesting listen.

As for my first astronauts, I remember well sitting in the front lounge of my Bavarian boarding school residence on July 20, 1969, watching with amazement as Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin became the first humans to walk on the moon. Conversely, I may be one of the few humans on this planet (or at least in this country) not to remember just where I was when news of the Challenger explosion hit. And I do enjoy movies about astronauts: the true ones like The Right Stuff and Apollo 13; and the fictional ones like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Space Cowboys, Gravity, Interstellar, The Martian. I'd like to see In the Shadow of the Moon, a documentary featuring all the surviving astronauts (except Armstrong).

I think astronauts are heroes. They are exquisitely trained, brave, intelligent, and often—as in the case of Col. Chris Hadfield—extremely generous (and pretty funny to boot!).

365 True Things: 350/Photography

One of my favorite genres, if you will, of photography is night photography. I first explored it in the 1990s when I took a workshop with the wonderful Michael Kenna. He was a very kind and generous teacher, and he so inspired me and a new friend I met in the workshop, Mary, that we continued to go out and shoot at night for a couple of years after. The result for me was a portfolio as well as an article in the local newspaper on the joys of night photography.

That was all black-and-white film photography. More recently—about eight years ago—I decided to give night photography another shot, now using digital technology. I joined a workshop led by Boston-based photographer Lance Keimig and held at Mono Lake, on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada, with visits also to Olmsted Point in Yosemite National Park and the historic ghost town of Bodie.

Since then, I've occasionally gone out and done night work, though it's been a while. I might have to dust off my faded skills and try again. It really is a pleasure to hang out and enjoy the evening air while the open shutter allows photons to etch an image.

Here are a few of my favorite night photos.

Mission San Juan Bautista

Moss Landing

Mono Lake (not really a night shot, but it's pretty)

Mono Lake

Bodie machinery

Bodie

Bodie undertaker

Santa Cruz County

Point Lobos (also not really a night shot)

Pigeon Point Lighthouse, San Mateo County

Mare Island Naval Shipyard, Vallejo

365 True Things: 349/DST

A blog that I subscribe to was going on (and on) about how awful Daylight Saving Time is, how it causes a sort of hangover that lasts all week, how it should—as, apparently, California is contemplating—be done away with. 

I heartily disagree. I am much happier to arise in the darkness—and then get to watch the sun rise—than have long dark evenings.

This evening, sunset was at 6:13, with darkness falling about half an hour later. Tomorrow: 7:13! Darkness at almost 8! And it's only going to get better.

Even though I don't strictly speaking have a job (and almost
never have had), I do tend to keep regular-job hours. Or try to. Well, okay, lately I've been knocking off around 4 and going for a nice long afternoon walk. But starting tomorrow, I can do the same thing by knocking off around 5—which gives me a full hour more of potentially productive time!

This fills me with joy.

I honestly don't understand what people have against Daylight Saving Time. I think they're a bunch of sourpusses.

That said, I would not be at all averse to adopting Daylight Saving Time permanently and getting rid of Standard Time. That would be just fine with me.

365 True Things: 348/Medical

Tomorrow's Search & Rescue training covers patient assessment. We were advised to review our SAMPLE and mind our PQRST's.

I always have trouble remembering the acronyms and mnemonics. Perhaps because I only have occasion to use them once or twice a year, during these trainings.

I've just found my notebook with ALL my medical (Wilderness First Responder) notes, including advanced airway management, bloodborne pathogens, lifting and moving, pediatric assessment, extrication and patient packaging, spinal injuries, diabetic emergencies, CPR, and . . . okay, here we go:

A. Scene size-up, a.k.a. PENMAN: PPE (personal protective equipment), Environmental safety and considerations, Number of patients, MOI (mechanism of injury) or nature of illness, Additional resources/special equipment needed, and Need for c-spine precautions.

B. Primary survey, a.k.a. ABCs (assess and manage): Airway, Breathing, Circulation, Disability (mentation—and another mnemonic: AVPU, Alert, [responds to] Verbal stimulus, [responds to] Painful [stimulus], Unresponsive), and Expose, examine, and protect from the environment.

C. Baseline medical, a.k.a. SAMPLE history: Signs (observable) and symptoms (described by patient), Allergies, Medications, Past pertinent medical history, Last oral intake, Events leading to illness or injury.

Followed by targeted history (pertinent to chief complaint), a.k.a. OPQRST: Onset of pain, what Provokes it, Quality of pain, does it Radiate, Severity of pain, Time (time, time—I always forget how this means).

D. Secondary assessment (head-to-toe, hands on), a.k.a. DCAP-BTLS: Deformities, Contusions, Abrasions, Penetrations, Burns, Tenderness, Lacerations, Swelling

E. Vital signs: pulse, respirations, skin signs (color, temp, moisture, capillary refill), pupils (PERL: equal round, reactive to light + size), blood pressure, pulse oximetry

F. Reassessment

Okay. Now, to study.

365 True Things: 347/Adventure

Last May, I was yearning for an adventure. Today, I am again.

Last May, I didn't know exactly what I meant by that. Today, I'm little wiser.

But I do know that I don't want to just sit at home and read. Even if that's a lot of what I've been doing lately. It's been fun. But . . . it's time to get back out into the world.

David has signed up to go with his chorus to Spain and Portugal in June, and for a brief instant I flirted with the idea of going over before him, visiting Lisbon, and then meeting him in Barcelona. But our money is a bit tight now, plus: what would we do with the cats?

So now I'm thinking: October! And maybe add Rome in and make it a trio of southern European cities.

Or something. Some overseas adventure—perhaps not on my own but with a group—sounds pretty good right about now. 

(For a short while I considered going to Israel this spring, but the stabbings lately have made me think otherwise, at least as a solo trip. I found a Sierra Club tour that looks right up my alley, combining nature and culture, but it happens to be in April when I'll be in Colorado. Maybe next year, however?)

Another "adventurous" thing I've been talking about is getting my motorcycle running. And then getting comfortable riding it. (I'm sure I've written about the darn motorcycle, but I'm not finding it in past posts.) In fact, that's something I should just put on my list for this month.

I guess for me, in a way, "adventure" = movement. Seeing the world, getting out on roads and trails and into the backcountry, or going deep into urban culture. Getting lost and finding my way home. The movement doesn't have to be risky, but it has to be at least somewhat on my own terms.

Perhaps what I mean by adventure is an activity that puts me in touch with myself—with my competencies, my interests, my strengths . . . but also, to an extent, with my weaknesses and fears, so that I can, if not banish them, at least keep them under control, and not let them control me.

After posting this, a friend pointed out a lovely little essay to me, "A Word in Favor of Rootlessness" by Oregonian John Daniel. I link it here as a reminder of the importance of continued movement.

365 True Things: 346/羅生門 (Rashomon)

I had lunch today with two old friends from my volunteer days at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Barb and Jayne. Among many other things, we talked about memory: how some events that people close to us remember vividly, we remember not at all. Or, alternatively, that common experience of you remembering an event one way, and me remembering it completely differently. (Of course, I'm right.)

That brought to my mind a movie by the Japanese director Akira Kurosawa—a famous movie. Its title just wouldn't come. No, not Kagemusha or Yojimbo, the first names to jump into my head (though both those, from 1980 and 1961, respectively, are also by Kurosawa—he was prolific, and not uncommonly his films were masterpieces). I gave Barb and Jayne a brief synopsis of the movie (as I somewhat vaguely remembered it) and shook off my memory lapse, saying, "The name'll come."

On the drive home, I played that game that perhaps you do too, when you want to summon a word or name: I ran through the alphabet. Round about I my mind started to tingle, but no—not I. (Ikiru, another of Kurosawa's films, was not the name I sought.) As I skipped right past L and arrived at M, a small light bulb went off: wait—does the Japanese word for "gate" occur in the title? What's that word? Oh, mon, yes. One word; the title is a single word—something-mon. Onward I skimmed, and then slammed on the brakes at R: of course! Rashomon! 

Starring a thirty-year-old Toshiro Mifune and surprise winner of the 1951 Venice Film Festival's Golden Lion Award, Rashomon (1950) falls in the popular category of jidaigeki (時代劇), or period drama, a genre that usually focuses on the Edo period (1603–1868) and tells the stories of samurai, farmers, craftsmen, merchants, and other ordinary people. The Seven Samurai is an infinitely (and internationally) remade example of jidaigeki.

I was happy to be reminded of Rashomon. It is excellent storytelling, with an interesting structure: a framing story in which three men sit out a rainstorm beneath the huge city gate, recounting an incident involving rape and murder that occurred three days previously; scenes from the intervening trial follow, which includes the testimony of the dead man (via a medium). None of the four basic accounts of the incident agrees in its details or the supposed motivations, with ego, honor, and fickle memory obscuring the facts. What is the objective truth? Is it even humanly accessible?

I wonder if I'm ready for a Kurosawa binge via Netflix. I can think of worse uses of my time.

And finally, here's a video about what is now known as "The Rashomon Effect." It's interesting!

365 True Things: 345/Tacos

We had tacos for dinner tonight. They were supposed to be burritos, but the tortillas weren't big enough, so they ended up super-sized tacos, stuffed with black bean refritos, Spanish rice, and cheese. Salad on the side.

I read the other day about a fellow who decided to eat a taco every day for 365 days.

I could not eat the same thing every day, even if it was potentially as variable as a taco.

(Well, I could, of course. But I would not want to.)

Then again, at the moment I think that doing one thing—besides, perhaps, drinking coffee and brushing your teeth—every day for a year is simply daft.

Twenty days to go . . .