The Online Photographer

Protein! And Other Off-Topic Topics

A friend I spoke to this morning asked if I was becoming disaffected with photography, a suspicion raised, for him, by reading my recent blog posts.

No, not at all. It's that I'm preoccupied by the political situation here in the USA—but I can't write about that. Not my purview here. But that's what's going on with me. (Oh, and I'm still sick—approaching five weeks—although not suffering. Grateful for the latter.)

My other distractions at the moment are pool and food. I'm playing in a pool league, playing or practicing a little most every day, and learning more about the game as I go. The guy who sponsors our team (we're in first place by five games as of the last standings), whose name is Hatter, just installed a "milk dud" tip on my Schön. Talk about weird—you start with a Tweeten* non-laminated Elkmaster, soak it in milk(!) for 24 hours, press it in a vise for another 24, and then mount it and shape it. But I'm pretty sure nobody came here for reviews of pool cue tips! 

"Gotta get your protein"—?
Regarding food and eating, most recently (since December 20th) I've been experimenting with "time restricted eating." I've been eating from 9:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. every day, which comprises a 17 1/2-hour daily fast (usually more, as I seldom start eating by 9:00). I'm not going to write about that until I've given it more time—probably sometime between May and July. I will post a report then. So that will be my next big diet post.

Oddly enough, along with a berry-and-kale morning smoothie, I've fallen into the habit of eating a salad every morning for breakfast. That probably sounds weird! It started because I read the advice that at your main meal you should eat your salad first while you're still hungry. I just applied the advice to the whole day, is all. It quickly became a habit, and has become my favorite meal of the day. I really look forward to it.

If you want to be healthy, gotta get your plants.

I'll pass along two links about food and diet today. First, if you eat a lot of greens, you'll want to read this new report about safety from Consumer Reports. (It's also in the current issue of the magazine.) And just to do my bit toward informing the public, I'll repost this little primer about protein. Americans especially have been subjected to persistent propaganda and misinformation about protein over many years, and consequently "know" some strange things about it that aren't true.

This is only a little more than four minutes long, but it puts paid to a few of the more persistent myths and misinformation:

If you have a few extra minutes, watch it twice.  :-)

Mike

*Tweeten Fibre Co.'s website says both that it was founded in 1912 and that it's 85 years old, from which you'd conclude either that the website hasn't been updated since 1997 or that they suck at arithmetic. I use their products, though.

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Featured Comments from:

Yoshi Carroll: "That protein video blew my mind. I thought I was well informed about this stuff. What else do I know that ain’t so?"

Greg Heins: "FINALLY! A review of a pool cue tip. I've been coming here every day for years in the hope, which I was beginning to think was not going to be realized in my lifetime.... Thank you, god/ess."

Tim Bradshaw: "Well, I disagree with you about many things (and this means you are wrong, as I am, obviously, infallible), but thank you for posting the protein thing. I was taught what turns out to be rubbish about vegetarians and amino acids at school in the early 1970s, and as a vegetarian (never liked the taste of meat, stopped eating it when I left home, no moral bullshit) since the late 1980s I've long wondered why I'm still alive as a result of that. Well: turns out that's because I was taught things which were not true."

Mike replies: In fairness, nutrition science is still fairly young, and it's distorted by the propaganda efforts of food producers who fund many of the studies. There's a whole lot we still don't know, and there's a lot that's difficult to study even when we can fund it. But the "balanced protein" thing is an interesting case. It's a true "old wives' tale" (a familiar term, but one I dislike, as it does a disservice to older wives, who are frequently people of strong character and good values!), in that a common and widespread belief rests on the slimmest of foundations. I mean really, an article in Vogue in 1975? "Flying saucer" is another...and "you should drink eight glasses of water a day" is another. The origins of all three (and there are many others) are just so scant and vaporous that it almost beggars belief that so many people take them at face value. Crowd psychology fascinates me.

Although nominally about economics, one of my father's favorite books speaks to that point: it's called Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, by Charles Mackay. (Called Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions when it was first published in 1841.) The subtitle of the linked edition reveals more: "The classic guide to crowd psychology, financial folly and surprising superstition." I think every high school kid should at least be assigned the third chapter, "The Tulipomania," for its surprising entertainment value if nothing else! —It's very short. I love the story of the sailor eating his onion, which just goes to show you the astonishing ways in which even the perfectly innocent can find trouble.

Fuji X-T4 Coming February 26th

...According to FujiRumors. It will be fun (well, for me, anyway) to see how much the X-T3 and X-H1 "DNA" get blended in the new camera. Will IBIS "trickle down" into the X-T[x] series?

The rest of this post is a digression!
Although, to be honest, I'd say I'm interested rather than excited. In 2012, the peak year of the camera market, I had to admit to myself that I was feeling a little crazy. I coveted the latest beautiful cameras a little more intensely than was mentally healthy! For at least the first 15 years or so of the current century, cameras were like American cars were in the postwar years. Progress was rapid; news was fun to follow; updates were regular, and "gamed" by the makers to keep interest at the boil; new products were admired, coveted, and envied; to have the latest and greatest was a feather in one's cap and a source of satisfaction. Curiosity about the "new" and the "next" was always high. New models were kept secret and unveiled to great fanfare. I have to admit I bought several cameras because the urge to possess them was so intense and I just gave in.

As is widely noted, though, that era seems to be on the way to fizzling out. Over the past five years, we seem to have transitioned to a general feeling of "digital cameras are good enough." People are turning away from ultimates and "settling" for more mainstream options that are very good, or good enough. We seem to be keeping our cameras longer and updating less often. More people are choosing to buy models on closeout or simply buying used.

The same thing happened in cars, of course. The halcyon years of a happy shared excitement over annual model updates are long gone. I remember hearing in 2008 that the hypothetical "average American" could no longer afford the hypothetical "average new car," and most people don't buy new cars every two or three years like my father's age cohort strove to do. Car models are updated about every four to six years, sometime with a "refresh" in the middle of the model run, and the average person keeps a car about eight years. (Mine is six now.)

Average cars are much better now, their biggest problem being complexity (sound familiar?). One fun statistic I like to quote is that the 1970 Porsche 911 S, a prestigious, expensive-for-the-era* sports car, which received a bigger engine that year, was able to do 0–60 in 7.8 seconds. Fifty years later, a Toyota Corolla Hatchback with a manual—bog-standard transportation for the masses—does 0–60 in 7.5 seconds.

Of course, the X-T4 is no Corolla. More like a Lexus IS, maybe (0–60 MPH in 5.6 seconds for the IS350 Sport).

1970 Porsche 911. Today, a Corolla is faster.

Will you be looking forward to the X-T4 rollout? A lot of the 2000–2015 culture remains in place. But I wonder how much of it is habit now. These days there's something hollow about assuming that large numbers of people are going to get all excited about whatever's next up. Do you know off the top of your head, for example, the announcement date for the replacement of whatever camera you're using? How eager are you to find out exactly what features it will offer?

It ain't 2012 any more.

Mike

*$8,750 (about $57k today) in an era when wealth inequality wasn't so extreme and hence expensive cars weren't so expensive.

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Paulo Bizarro: "I upgraded my XT2 to XT3 a few weeks ago, benefiting from a EUR 200 discount on the latter. This is why I like new cameras introductions."

Allan Graham: "Do I know off the top of my head the announcement date for the replacement of my camera? No, I had to ask Wikipedia. It was on 25 August 2007 that the D300 was announced. I suppose I'm just a grumpy old git who likes the comfort of familiarity and is irritated by unnecessary novelty."

Mike replies: Your camera was replaced in April 2016 and you're skipping at least one update, which is a smart idea and often given as advice. On the good side, when you finally do replace your D300, you're going to be amazed by the improvements, and that's always fun too.

MikeR: "Back in the heyday of American cars, they really were not all that good. It was quite an accomplishment, with normal maintenance, (including 2,000 mile oil changes), to get to 100K miles. You had to trade every few years to avoid being plagued by repairs. In contrast, when I traded my 1999 bright red Solara in for a frankly nondescript RAV4 in 2015, it was still running fine at about 225K miles, but I had aged out of it...worn knees and stuff made getting in and out difficult. Yeah, the 'magic' of those big old barges is gone, but I don't miss them. Fun to see at vintage car shows, but let someone else have the pain of keeping them running."

Mike replies: As I'm sure you realize, I wasn't suggesting those days were better, just that the market was more dynamic. You're right about old cars. When I was a kid (I'm a few days shy of 63), we'd drive from Milwaukee to Indianapolis to see relatives, and, being conservative about such things, my dad would take the Oldsmobile (that was a real car name, kids, I'm not being cute) to the gas station, which was also the mechanic's shop, for a "checkup" before we left. When my brother and I made lists of the biggest changes in our lifetimes, "the reliability of cars" was one of the items on my list.

If you want to see some tempting samples of those old cars, though, check out Vanguard Motor Sales.

Fujifilm Cheerfully Marches On: The X100V

New X100V: The line between the top plate and the body is
now straight all the way across

Oops! When you've updated your camera three times and you've already run through the X100, X100s[econd], X100t[hird], and X100f[ourth], what do you call the fifth? Not F, because that's already taken.

Roman numerals to the rescue!

The latest—fifth—Fuji X100 is called the X100V (which makes it sound a lot like a Sony, but never mind). Unlike the X-Pro3, there's nothing controversial about the updates. And, as with all Fuji products, they don't stint on the trickle-down—the X100V inherits as much of the current goodness from the X-Pro3 and X-T3 as it reasonably can. There's one new touch I find delightful and only one absurd little glitch. (But at least the oddity made me laugh. I'll get to that.)

Everything's updated that you'd expect to be—sensor, processor, EVF, etc. Fuji made unspecified changes to the lens such that Internet is calling it "new lens." I'll reserve my doubts until we get chapter and verse; I'll guess it's substantially the same lens with a few little tweaks, like replacing two elements with one aspherical one or something. But then there's never been anything wrong with the X100 lens. It's excellent, always has been.

The back is now noticeably cleaner, more like a Leica

Notable changes—flip up viewing screen! Nice. I like these, and find them useful. For photography (and I don't do video) I'm personally on Team Flip-Up rather than Team Flip-Out, but even if you're the opposite you still might appreciate the upgrade from a fixed screen. The four-way pad is gone, simplified to the joystick. Aluminum body, instead of magnesium is a big but invisible change. That's probably what accounts for the $100 increase in launch price. Fuji seems to be concentrating on improving the camera's ineffable object-quality in this release.

The delightful touch—retro ISO setting! It's now a lift-and-turn collar on the shutter-speed dial with a little window to see the values, just like on some old film cameras. This is needless but smile-inducing, so we'll put it in the + column. [CORRECTION: Oh, I'm wrong. This was new on v.4, the f, not this V. Sorry for my misteak. —Ed.]

The X100V has been carefully updated four times since the original

The silliness is that out of the box the camera is weatherproof but the lens is not, which on a fixed-lens camera is absurd on its face and made me laugh when I first read it. But it's not as silly as it sounds. It's just that you have to buy a separate adapter and special filter (also known as a "filter") to make the lens waterproof, which then makes the whole camera waterproof. On a $1,400(!) pocket camera this kind of nickel-and-diming is always a bit off-putting, but it was probably the only way the engineers could implement weatherproofing without making other accessories obsolete, so, okay. (Actually the two items you need, if you buy the Fuji-branded and -approved versions, adds nearly $100 to the cost of the camera, so maybe it's not appropriate to talk about nickels and dimes. Tens and twenties maybe?) The upshot is that people who carry this camera with them all the time can now have a weatherproof camera, and that's going to be a big plus for some people looking to upgrade.

Wearing it
Because carrying this camera all the time is what it's best suited for. Wear it. Put it on in the morning and take it off in the evening, like your shirt or blouse. It's light and tiny—like the X-E3, tinier than it looks if you've never seen one in person—and very (very) capable. Don't forget the unique-to-Fuji OVF/EVF, which is maybe a bit of a gimmick but certainly provides an opportunity for meaningful customization to your preference. (Be grateful Leica didn't develop this feature, because we'd never hear the end of it.) 

As an aside, condolences to all you X100f owners who just got shoved into the shade. It's inevitable with any digital device: you get a period of time during which you have the latest and greatest, and then the sun moves and you're abruptly out of the bright light. The lustre, the shine, the glow—all gone. Or not gone; just over there now, not here where you are. Especially when the new shiny glowing thing has a new lens. How did you ever settle for that old thing on your old X100f? How can you believe you're capable of taking decent pictures? Won't your friends scorn you, perfect strangers pity you? And look in the mirror, too...you're growing older. All part of the same problem. Everything about you is getting to be just so contemptibly yesterday.

Joke mode off, you might want to think about moving on from an original X100 or the X100s if you're still shooting with one. Mainly because the new one will be noticeably faster. Otherwise, you're good. Gotta get your money's worth out of what you already have.

Bottom line on the V, though: Fuji is an innovative company with formidable resources, and yet for some reason has a strong sense of direction in its products, and the X100 series is a successful product that's been supported by strong sales and which in return supports a high price. Put all of these together and you get an inherently popular design that has had a lot of time, talented man-hours, effort, and money lavished on refining it and keeping it up-to-the-minute and endowed with the latest tech. For what this camera is intended for and for what it does best—namely, being your constant companion all day every day—you almost couldn't do better.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

Please help support The Online Photographer through Patreon

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Curt Gerston: "I have the X100T, so I'm hopelessly out of date now, but still I'm considering having it as my one-and-only camera for a month in Europe this summer. I'm a little scared to commit to that one focal length for such a unique and big trip, but it'd also be an interesting challenge, and it would be nice to leave all the heavy gear at home."

J. Wilson (partial comment): "It's amazing that the entire Fujifilm X range began with this little camera as the cornerstone, and such a relatively short time ago. This camera always puts me in mind that Fujifilm and their designers loved cameras, the kind those of us of 'a certain age' cherished: They must, as well."

Huw Morgan: "I don't get the attraction. Sure, it looks retro and produces nice images, but a fixed-lens camera in the smartphone era? What does it do that my phone can't do besides take up more space and eat up my bank account?"

Michel: "Re 'Not F, because that's already taken'—reminds me of Gary Gulman’s brilliant routine on state abbreviations. If you are looking for a distraction this is well worth the six minutes or so."

Mike replies: Thanks! That was funny. In related time-wasting videos, you might enjoy this one. (And by the way, I always write out State names on TOP for the benefit of readers who aren't from the Ununited [sic] States.)

Notes on the State of Photography

It's funny, but I've been feeling a little demoralized lately. It's like my connection to photography is feeling a bit tenuous, and/or my interest is at a low ebb (like the tide, it comes and goes). I can't quite organize my thoughts on the topic, and I can't untangle a dispassionate appraisal of the "the state of photography in 2020" from what might merely be my own personal passing psychological condition at the present moment. (I'm recovering from a long sickness, so there's that...I'm not suffering and I'm not unhappy, but at the same time you know how that is—things haven't felt "normal" and I don't have my usual level of day-to-day energy. And it's Winter—a curious climate change / non-Winter Winter. It's been warm and rainy compared to what used to be normal. I'm a little "down." Is all that just carrying over into my other interests? Could be.)

So I've been trying to get a handle on what's changing in the field. Here are a few notes:

• Photographs are no longer objects. They're mostly files we see on screens. The implications are far-ranging and would need a lot of discussion and analysis to parse properly, but one gross difference is that things that aren't objects are more difficult to buy and sell, collect and archive, etc. Generally, information (of all kinds—writing and music too) detached from its carrier or container is more difficult to control as a commodity.

• Almost all photographs are color now.

• Expertise and specialized knowledge is not as important any more, and may be declining in the amount of respect it receives. When I posted about the demise of PDN, the former periodical for commercial and studio pros, our friend Kirk Tuck, an accomplished longtime pro from Austin, Texas, said "And professional photography has now left the room...." At almost every stage in its history, increasing convenience encouraged the incursion of interlopers on the turf of established photographers who were trying to practice photography as a business. So this is really nothing new—it's closer to a constant state of affairs than it is to a new problem. Whatever the objective state of the profession, though, it seems true that expertise just isn't as essential as it was even pretty recently.

• Mechanical means of recording an image from life (analog photography, roughly) rather strongly resisted easy modification, and revealed to the practiced eye all but the most skillful attempts at manipulation. Now, curiously, as technical excellence is becoming commonplace, photographs are simultaneously becoming more accurate and detailed yet also less trustworthy in terms of what they purport to record and present to the viewer. They're sharper and clearer and yet could well be less true.

• There's just a whole lot of confusion with video now, and video is running roughshod over still photography in lots of ways.

• Vast numbers of people, including many former enthusiast/hobbyist photographers, are apparently happy enough with smartphones for what amounts to point-and-shoot photography.

I should point out here that no value judgements are implied by these bullet points. With this item, for instance, it's a double-edged sword and both good and bad might be said to be coming of it. Really, it's not good, it's not bad, it just is.

• "Real" (i.e., dedicated) cameras are starting to become a little like fine watches...relegated to connoisseurs but fundamentally unnecessary. We're not there yet, but that's the direction it appears to be going in. And there isn't quite enough distinction between OK cameras and really good cameras to suit enthusiasts. Most of us would like it if there were more separation. The fact is, you can buy a really superb lens and put it on a very expensive camera, yet it's not that easy to tell the difference, in most images, between it and a merely decent lens on a merely good camera. Yes, you can tease out the differences if you try, and knowledgeable experts can (sometimes) tell the difference visually, but mostly when we look at pictures we're not really aware of strong qualitative distinctions—we're just looking at pictures. You'd think this would be a good thing, but humans like signifiers (of status, quality, intention, commitment, etc.).

• The boom period during following the digital transition (which I define as 1994–2011) is over. Growth has collapsed, and consolidation and failures are sure to continue. Along with this, is the popularity of photography in the culture as a whole also diminishing along with the camera business? It seems so to me, but I'm not sure I have any real basis by which to evaluate. It's more like a feeling, which isn't very useful.

• Question: Is "photographer" becoming less of a meaningful identity in the public perception? That identity has always morphed and changed, but it seems to me that "photographer" was always something fairly commonly understood and generally respected. I recall a joke where someone at a cocktail party is asked "and what do you do?" and answer is, "oh, I breathe," or, "I eat. Do it every day." It might not be long before answering that question with, "I'm a photographer," might be met with a retort such as, "of course, but what do you do?" What does it mean to be "a photographer" in 2020, and what does it mean relative to what it meant in 2000 or 1980?

• I have questions, too, about photography as an expressive medium. The apparatus and conceptual structure meant to confer claims of original individual expressivity to various photographers always seemed to me faintly contrived—the subversive nature of photography kept interrupting and popping through the efforts of individuals to bend it to what's now demotically called their "personal vision." But the fact is you'd never not recognize a Lisette Model, or fail to see a little of Arbus in any Arbus, or mistake an Eisenstadt for a Friedlander. I see less personality and more anonymity in a lot of photography these days. But that might be totally a false reading, the result mainly of the kinds of things I happen to look at and the infinitesimal slice of photography I get to lay my eyes on.

That last will be my final point for now—Sir Isaac Newton is reported to have said, "I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself, I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself now and then in finding a smoother pebble or prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me." Substitute ocean of photographs for "ocean of truth" and you'll have something that's been unavoidable for a while now: "photography" as a whole is utterly unknowable because it's so incomprehensibly vast. It probably always was, but, nowadays, no one can pretend otherwise.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

Please help support The Online Photographer through Patreon

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Darin Boville (partial comment): "iPhones are amazing. They have brought the magic back to photography for me. I've actually giggled—I'm fifty-four years old!—as I watched a Night Shot photo appear on my phone when I first purchased it. My hear rate actually increased when I was shooting during an artist residency in the Mojave Desert—I could feel it, my God—as the images from my tripod-mounted phone appeared on the screen, blackness all around me, glowing pixie dust on the screen.

"I used to know, from a technical point of view, how photographs were made. When iPhones came I knew how the images were made—they were using techniques more or less what you could do on your own, though much more quickly and accurately. But the new phones crossed some sort of line in recent years, especially with the newest models. I don't know what they are doing anymore. They are not just doing regular darkroom stuff, just way faster. I'm no beginner. [...] I'm not afraid of inconvenience in the pursuit of excellence, not shy about expense or suffering to get the image I want to get. But the new phones are magical. They are incredibly exciting, incredibly freeing. People should be happy enough with these phones, my God, and to dream of the future!"

anthony: "And yet, in this vast ocean of truth/images, some speak to us as no others. Many years ago, at the start of a hitchhiking trip around the British Isles, I visited the National Gallery in London, with the intention of taking in as much as I reasonably could in a day. I was moving at a good pace until I came to the 16th century Dutch Masters, including Pieter Brueghel. That room and those images stopped me dead in my tracks, and I only pulled myself away after a couple of hours. I felt it then, and remember it now, as a state of reverie. And a dip in the 'ocean of truth.'"

PhotoDes: "Your remarks do seem to be dispiriting, which may have been your intention or maybe a consequence of your recent illness—or maybe a reaction to the gray winter days. I guess I'm fortunate that I don't feel the same way. I've been maintaining my interest in photography lately with my collection of old cameras and lenses and trying some new lighting techniques. It's fascinating how small changes in lights and modifiers can make big differences. I haven't been caught up in the urge for a new camera or tricking out my smartphone to keep my interest. For me, it's been trying new things with the equipment that has already proven itself. And I don't think I'm missing that extra sharpness or clarity—I'm still getting some photos published on occasion. Photography really is about 'doing,' despite the possible retorts."

Robert: "Best article for ages. Thoughtful and interesting. What you mention fits alongside many of my thoughts. It is a conundrum and cannot simply be addressed by reverting to the nostalgia of the time of exclusively analogue photography, though there was a simpler and more exclusive field of identification then. I would be very interested to see these thoughts develop further. One thing that strikes me is that image making used to be more of a commitment in analogue days—film was a finite resource meaning frames cost money and getting images into a visible form required more work. Of course, in the age of instant gratification that can be seen as a drawback, but I wonder whether it did not also bring advantages of work, craft, and the value that comes from that level of input, and also a certain type of prestige and an added uniqueness to each printed image. (Of course contradicted in book runs, if one was lucky/talented enough to be published)."

[I've only singled out a few to Feature, but many comments to this post were thoughtful and added a lot to the discussion. —Ed.]

David Comdico: "The State of Photography: more people then ever are making photographs and have an interest in photography. Film photography has made a comeback and new formulations are coming to market. Camera makers continue to refine their product line. And yet, the question of how to make Art with these tools remains as elusive as ever."

The Big Game the Morning After (OT)

Turns out my assumptions were out of date. I watched the big game online in perfect quality at the broadcaster's website with no issues.

Pretty exciting game.

I have to say I wasn't overly impressed with either team, though. Kansas City lost the battle of the line on both sides of the ball, and I'm not sure the much-ballyhooed Patrick Mahomes made a very convincing MVP. For a lot of the game (although it was probably because the pocket kept getting very small very fast), I thought he performed a skillful impression of an inexperienced QB having an off day. Several times, as Joe Buck mentioned, he appeared to not even have a clear idea of what he was trying to do. The KC offense took on a faintly slapstick aura now and then—several times a player with the ball had an easy first down right in front of him and failed to simply keep running or keep running in the right direction. And you know that play KC kept calling where the QB hesitated, then handed the ball to the running back standing next to him, who then ran straight down the middle? Anthony Anderson's real-life mom from the T-Mobile commercial could have told you that wasn't going to work. I don't know what it's called, but I'll bet that play was old when Andy Reid coached his first game.

But the Chiefs came through in dramatic fashion when it mattered, storming back from a double-digit deficit in the final eight minutes, and that is what counts. Exciting to watch. It's very satisfying when a smaller-market team wins a big championship—it's a triumph of grit, gumption, and "everything coming together" over the big-market money that usually manages to dominate these contests. (Just as an aside, that's another remarkable thing about what is historically the best NFL team, the Green Bay Packers*, who lost this year in the NFC Championship Game—the semifinals, for those of you not from here. They're located in the smallest media market of any NFL, NBA or MLB team, yet they have so many more NFL championships (13) over the longest span of time—81 years—that no other team comes close.)

Through the looking-glass
I watch so little TV that my occasional visits tend to be startling...even a bit shocking. While I enjoyed the game, the viewing experience as a whole once again made me glad of my decision to cut TV culture out of my life. What a wretched mess it is artistically, morally, and stylistically. Full of stylized violence and empty eroticism, ominous music, bathos, fantasy, threat-posturing, posing, greed, and histrionics. (Should I tell you how I really feel?) How do people get inured to it? You get the feeling that if it could possibly be contrived to be any more mannered, frenetic, bombastic, slick, and shallow, it would be. Particularly poignant and regrettable to me were all the shiny expensive ads for wretched junk food and horrible junk drinks—the kind of stuff that is slowly killing a lot of us.

...But step slowly away from that soapbox, Bub (I said to myself).  :-)

Anyway, congratulations to Chiefs fans, and all Missourians. It must be fun to be in Missouri (yeah, Kansas too**) today!

Mike

*Or is my fan loyalty showing? Nah, I'm completely objective about the Packers!  ;-) 

**Again, for those of you not from this country or who know nothing about (American) football, the Kansas City Chiefs hail from Kansas City, Missouri.

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

Please help support The Online Photographer through Patreon

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Andre Moreau: "Most of Québec was watching that Superbowl game, as local boy, Laurent Duvernay-Tardif, number 76 for the Chiefs, was playing. By the way, he's the first ever medical doctor to play at the Superbowl."

Jack: "Mike, I’m sorry the Packers didn’t make the big party. Had they won, you could have gotten to wear another ring even bigger than the one you wore in this photo."

Mike replies: That was a fun day! Good memory.

Lindsay Bach: "It probably comes as little surprise that, depending on the source, the average American watches between three to five hours of television per day. As a person who has largely shunned TV for nearly 50 years, on the rare occasions I do watch television I am always stunned at the incessant wash of crass culture and consumerism viewers willingly submit to. Twenty-five years ago when I taught high school English, I used to sometimes tell my students that I didn't watch TV, just for their reaction. I remember one kid said incredulously, 'you don't watch TV?—you must be really bored all the time.' I responded that I was really never bored (the truth) given all there was to do in the absence of TV."

Speed: "On my very occasional visits to televised sports I am amazed at the technology that is now applied for our benefit—especially the Skycam...Skycam is a computer-controlled, stabilized, cable-suspended camera system. The system is maneuvered through three dimensions in the open space over a playing area of a stadium or arena by computer-controlled cable-drive system. It is responsible for bringing video-game-like camera angles to television sports coverage. The camera package weighs less than 14 kilograms (31 lbs.) and can travel at 13 meters a second (29 mph). Invented by Garrett Brown (also the inventor of the Steadicam). Following kickoff returns up (down?) the field is a thing of sports and technological beauty."

Jon Porter: "I believe Missouri's team was named for the Kansas City Chief, Santa Fe's posh Chicago-Kansas City train. So it might be more appropriate for fans to dress as engineers and conductors instead of Indians. The Green Bay Packers took their name from original sponsor the Indian Packing Company, a meat-canning firm. So while the Packers name has sometimes been the butt of jokes, it's not as bad as an early cross-state rival, the Beloit Fairies."

Mike replies: Not too sure about the train connection. Where'd you hear that? The team was originally called the Dallas Texans, and the Chiefs website says the name was changed to "Chiefs" when it moved to Kansas City in 1963 "partly" in honor of H. Roe Bartle, the mayor of Kansas City, who was instrumental in convincing the Texans to move to Kansas City. Bartle's nickname, which he got in connection with his role in local Boy Scouts organizations, was "Chief." That's all the website says about the name as far as I can find.

Lamar Hunt, owner of the Texans/Chiefs, is acknowledged to be the founder of the American Football League. He was later instrumental in the merger of the two leagues, and he was the one who named the Super Bowl—getting the idea from the Super Ball, a popular toy in the 1960s.

Greg Heins adds: "Speaking of Lamar Hunt, there's a photo connection (of course!). He was one of three brothers who took their family oil billions and cornered the market in silver in late 1979, driving the price through the roof. Guess what? Lots of silver in film and paper (what photographers used at that time). The price of those went up substantially. The scheme ultimately failed, silver came back down, and the brothers finally declared bankruptcy, which as you can see didn't cramp their lives a bit. Although silver came down, film and paper did not; funny how that happens."

Sunday Support Group: Super Bowl Self-Pity

Well, boo-hoo.

My buddy Jerry is having a Super Bowl party tonight, and lots of my friends will be there. Darlynn is doing the cooking, and others are bringing desserts and hors d'oeuvres, which means there will be tasty food aplenty. I bet it's going to be a good time. It was last year.

And I can't go.

No biggie—I'm just sick. There's this virus that's been going around that apparently ebbs and flows for between four and eight (!!) weeks. (That's two months...I've never been sick for two months.) As of tomorrow, I'll have been at least mildly sick-ish for four weeks, so I'm at least getting into the range where I might actually get better.

But at the moment, I'm beset by typical cold symptoms—cough, sneezing, sniffles. To insert my infected self into a small space crammed with people of all ages, from babies to geezers...well, that would be wrong. Unkind and inconsiderate.

As far as I know I can't even watch the game, because I haven't owned a TV since 2014 and don't have a cable contract, and I don't think it's possible to pay for one game on a one-time basis. This makes no sense—you'd think they could just stream the game and its commercials online, same as broadcast TV. I guess it's because the cable companies don't want renegades like moi running end-arounds on their well-defended turf. But I don't know.

The willingness to change
The 12-step program of which I'm a member (I do not represent it, so I will not name it), because its root purpose is to save imperiled lives, is relentlessly practical. It consistently employs a sort of seat-of-the-pants cognitive processing therapy, which is a fancy way of saying that it tries to help you change the way you feel by changing the way you think. At every turn, the program suggests practical solutions. What I've learned recently is that whenever I'm disturbed, and in whatever way—for example when I feel fearful, angry, resentful, sad, hopeless, etc.—it's actually an opportunity—an opportunity to "practice the program" as we say. What's the solution the program suggests? I have to figure that out.

The first important thing is to recognize what's bothering me. Was it an assault on my ego? Do I think I was treated unjustly? A depressive or despairing train of thought?* Next I have to figure out how the program applies. So I have to figure out what motivated me to feel bad, and then I have to figure out what's suggested to me as a solution. Sometimes this takes a rather ridiculously long time, because, as with most humans, I'm a mystery to myself, and my real motives sometimes remain hidden from my conscious awareness. Then, when I do become aware of what I'm doing, I sometimes have no idea at first what the program tells me to do about it. What applies? The answer usually dawns on my small brain gradually. (Curly from the Three Stooges: "I'm tryin' to think—but nothing happens!")

This has two practical effects. Firstly it diverts my thinking—I immediately stop perseverating** on whatever is bothering me and turn my thoughts to what I'm supposed to do about it. The second (and here's the beauty of it) is that it turns every bad feeling into an opportunity to think differently. Any negative feeling becomes yet another potential opportunity to practice the program.

It's beautiful the way it works.

I always use traffic examples, because they're so simple. Let's say I'm angry at the person in front of me for driving so slowly. The root cause turns out to be not anger, but anxiety—I'm supposed to play pool at 10:00 and I didn't leave the house on time (note: my own fault) I'm worried about being late. What does the program tell me to do? The first, obvious, answer is to have patience with the person in front of me. But the real answer is to confront my own anxiety. What's the worst that could happen? I'll be five or ten minutes late. What's so bad about that? I'll have to take a little good-natured ribbing for being late ("Well, good afternoon!" "Nice of you to show up!"), but nobody will be inconvenienced much. It's really no big deal. So I relax about it and settle my anxiety and drive behind the person in front of me calmly and without agitation. I feel better.

That's a trivial example, but, as I said, every negative feeling or emotion can be processed this way. Recognize it for what it is and then divert your attention to the solution for it.

Doing this regularly has made me significantly happier and more contented day-to-day.

Ego in another guise
Self-pity is one of those negative feelings that typically trouble me. It's one of my "character defects," as we say. In reality, self-pity is actually egotistical—it's the flip side of entitlement. With self-pity we're saying, in effect, that we are special, because things should always go right for us. Even though things don't go right all the time for anyone, they should for us. So then it follows that when they don't, we're entitled to feel aggrieved and put-upon and sorry for ourselves. Right? We've been victimized by circumstances. What, other people should get sick at inconvenient times and miss parties, but I should never?

You can see how ridiculous that is. Actually everybody gets sick, and being sick inconveniences us by interrupting our activities and interfering with our plans, and it's the same way for everyone. "Spit Happens," in the words of the famous baby's bib. Why should I be any different? There's nothing special about me that says I shouldn't get viruses. I'm not entitled to constant uninterrupted good health, considering that nobody else in the world is.

In this situation, the program suggests that I should deliberately use gratitude. I have a relative who has a grievous degenerative disorder, and he's in my thoughts every day. He's making the best he can of a grave situation. And I have a good friend here, a very intelligent guy who has many friends and a good life, who just a few weeks ago was diagnosed with Alzheimers at an otherwise healthy age 76.

And I should sit here and feel sorry for myself because I have a cold?

Not on your life. I'm lucky, "despite."

I plan to have a good day today. Don't know how, yet, exactly, but I'll try to be open to whatever happens. I'll see all those people other times. There will be other parties. Most likely, I'll get better.

If you plan to watch the Super Bowl or you've got a party to go to this afternoon, do me a favor and enjoy it.  :-)  Life is good.

Mike

*(A classic example of these was the garbage scene in the 1989 film Sex Lies and Videotape.)

**A fancy but useful word. It means "to repeat or prolong an action, thought, or utterance after the stimulus that prompted it has ceased."

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Featured Comments from:

Weekes James: "Every, and I mean every, time I feel sorry for myself over some inconvenience of age or circumstance, the universe finds a way to, very quickly, show me how lucky I really am. One example is my slowly deteriorating hip. I was having a bad day with it and feeling whiny. Came into my gym and saw a man, older than me, attaching his prosthesis to his leg. Oops. I am lucky."

Keith: "The Super Bowl is another football game to be ignored, just like every other football, basketball, hockey, whatever, professional sports game. I say 'bread and circuses' to myself and move on to what interests me.

"The traffic analogy works really well for lots of things. We have a destination, maybe several of them along the way. We set out hopefully. In years past we knew little about traffic conditions or construction, and know slightly more now, but s[pit] still happens and we have to cope. Maybe we take a detour. Maybe we chant calming mantras to ourselves. Some explode in road rage.

"I've found the easiest single way to avoid the rage is to leave plenty of time for the journey. It will take as long as it takes; you might as well at least try to enjoy what you can of it. Most of the time, if you leave a bit early, there will be no issues—you'll get rock star parking, the elevator will be there waiting for you. Or maybe there are issues and you arrive just on time. Start a little late and of course there will be construction, a demonstration of driving incompetence, the parking lot you want will be full, and on and on it goes."

hugh crawford (partial comment): "I won't be watching—I once was interviewed (anonymously, fortunately) for a cover story in The Saturday Review (remember that?) about not caring for football, and it produced death threats in my small football-obsessed town."

Mike replies: That seems excessive.

Bandbox: "Guess I did too much yesterday because I'm feeling tired. I suppose I could wallow in self pity and whine about the unfairness of it all. But no, not today. Today I'll follow my 4-step program: lie down, read, fall asleep, and wake up for the Super Bowl."