Category Archives: Left field

Low Dollar Camera For Christmas

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I did a lot of low end camera research over this last week. I thought I would post what I found to assist you if you too are looking for a camera. These are sub $200.00 cameras. I found according to their reviews, offering a lot for the money and were in town to play with before deciding on which camera to buy. Honestly, if I were given any of these cameras as a gift, I would be perfectly happy with any one of them.

Sony W370 – Does almost everything as well as the FH20 but for more money.

Canon A490 – Amazing for what it does at its very low price.

Canon A495 – Almost a clone of the A490 with almost the same bells and whistles.

Sony T99  – I really wanted this camera, but it was mentioned in a few places that the low light ability left a lot to be desired.

Samsung HZ30W – One heck of a camera if everything works. Very mixed reviews out there on this camera.

Panasonic Lumix FP1 – Another great pocket camera with a lot in common with the Sony T line, only for less $$. It also suffers from low light problems.

Nikon S80 – Very nice camera competes well with the FH20, for more money.

Panasonic Lumix FH20 – I ended up purchasing this make and model. This camera edged out all others within $100.00 price range in a number of reviews.

low light, no flash

That was the line up in the low end price range that I seriously considered. There may be other models out there that compete as well, but I did not have access to play with them. All in all I was really impressed with Sony’s touch screen menu. It was easy to use I thought, though others did not seem to care for it. That means the menu designers and I think alike.

One thought to keep in mind is the megapixels of these cameras are now hitting fourteen. That is a huge picture allowing you to cut down the size of the picture removing the edges where most of the flaws are.

All of these models have the same basic flaws in their picture quality. In general, if you are shopping in this price range, you probably won’t notice the flaws inherent to the cameras, or they won’t be important as long as you don’t expect professional results and flawless large prints.

These cameras are so close in function and quality that any of them would make a great small camera. Try out the option and menus system of each one and decide what menu works best for you. That is the biggest deciding factors in this price range.

In closing, one thing I think is getting crazy is the megapixel numbers. I thought my now dead five megapixel camera took all the picture I really needed. Now I have a camera capable of taking great pictures of almost 2.5 times the size of my old camera. I don’t really need more megapixels next time out. What I would really like to see better built and thought out cameras with better menus instead of cramming in more megapixels.

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Trick or Treat a Fool to Eat – final

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Continued from part one:

“I talk to them from the bushes. They can’t see me hiding. At first they think it is funny, someone they know, then they get scared and their voices start to shake. They always run away, sometimes whimpering! It is lots of fun, but it is over much too quickly. I can’t do it often, because they might catch me if I do it too much.”

Over too quickly? How long will it take before I am over too quickly? THINK I screamed inside my head. “How would you like to talk to someone, who no matter how scared they become will not let you stop talking to them?” After a short pause it said, “That never happens.” I noticed it’s breath did not smell good and my shoulder was hurting. “What if I show you how it can be done?”

“How?” I had only one chance to do this, or I was going to be dead. “With a cell phone”, I squeaked got out between waves of panic. “What is a cell phone?”, it asked. “This is a cell phone, you use it to talk to people. You can talk to them and scare them as much as you want.” I pulled out my cell phone and opened it. “See it works like this”, I said as I held it against my ear. “I have seen them on my food; they are no use to me”, It said.

“But they are useful, you see, you can talk to someone who won’t get away, no matter how scared they get.” Slowing down slightly and then stopping it said, “I don’t believe you.”

“Look, here, you press these places and the person answers who will keep talking no matter what you tell them.” With eyes that looked more interested in playing with a toy, than being hungry it said, “Let me see it work.”

I dialed a number and waited for the ring. When they started speaking I said, “Hurry please, wait, someone else wants to talk with you”, and I held out my cell phone. It took the phone and after a few seconds learned how to hold the phone so it could both talk and hear as it held on to me.

It started talking innocently enough, almost a friendly voice. After twenty seconds or so, its conversation started to change. Its voice undulated between silky and sinister. I did not like listening to it talk, and I was terrified of hearing what it was saying.

After what seemed to be forever it took its hand off my shoulder. It became fixated with the conversation it was having. I stood like a statue, too scared to move. Another moment or two went by. It was becoming excited by having someone listen to it for so long, hearing what it was going to do to the person it was speaking to. Another time space went by, and it was so engrossed in the conversation, it turned slightly away from me releasing its hold from my shoulder. It wasn’t interested in food at the moment.

I moved so slowly at first, it felt like I was not really moving. It felt like minutes were flying by and I had moved maybe a foot. I took a little step. It ears flicked but it did not turn to face me, focused on the conversation.

Another little step, and another, and before I knew it I was running like I had never ran before. I didn’t know it was possible to move that fast! I was running so hard, I was scared I was going to fall face first in the road!

I was running back towards the center of town into the light. I was too scared to look back. The mess in my pants was starting to chaff, but I didn’t care. I did not care that I stunk, I ran as fast as I could looking for a house with lights on.

I saw a car pulling into a driveway, and ran towards it, praying that Thing was not behind me ready to crush my skull with its paw. The Man and Woman in the car were scared, both from my story and my looks and smell. I begged them to let me in the house with them. Once inside I asked where their phone was because I wanted to call 911. As I was explaining to them I had an emergency, I heard a gun shot, then another.

I received a summons in the mail to appear in court back in that Little Town, or pay a hefty fine. My Cell Phone Company sent me a final bill and cut off my service on the grounds I was abused their service. The State Police and 911 Emergency Services sent me a certified letter containing a large bill for misuse of the 911 emergency system, and threatened severe legal action if I did not pay immediately. The letter never mentioned what had happened.

When I called the State Police and the 911 Systems Manager, they both agreed I was a public nuisance and I should go to jail. They finished stating the fines could become more serious if I did not pay them immediately, and legal action would follow, meaning jail time.

I know the 911 operator who took that call from my cell phone feels a shiver of fear every time their phone rings whether they are working or not. I know I am lucky to be alive. I sold some things as fast as I could, took out a loan, and quickly payed off my new bills all in the same day.

My cell phone and 911 saved my life! I never want to go within five-hundred miles of that Town again. I tried to get another cell phone from another company, but it seems I am banned from all area providers without any real explanation or recourse. I try hard not to think about that night.

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Trick or Treat a Fool to Eat

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If you have been hanging out here any length of time you know I enjoy walking, and I enjoy being out walking at night, going against some occasionally strongly worded advice about the dangers of walking at night. Except for this particular night, and maybe one or two other nights, I have never felt like I would rather in my house cruising the net.

After driving all day, I stopped for the night in a smallish midwest town. I had been driving for longer than I wanted to think about, and all I wanted was a bed and a pillow. Or so I thought. I stopped on the edge of what appeared to be the older (cheaper) part of an old town. The part of town where the homes and businesses were decayed a little more than the rest of the uneventful looking town. Did I mention it was Halloween Eve?

I got what seemed to be a very good price for the night, a little under $25.00, and they promised a soft bed with clean sheets and towels, hot water, and  a continental breakfast in the morning, if I were up no later than nine o’clock. I was happy with the soft bed, clean sheets and towels, and hot water. They could keep their watered down coffee and stale donut.

I carried in my small bag and backpack which holds my laptop and a few books in it. I locked the door behind me, opened my bag took out my tooth brush and tooth paste and went to try out the shower. The water was hot, the shampoo was okay, and the towels worked as advertised.

Now I was hungry. I dressed and headed out the door to see what was open. I walked heading to where the newer part of town was, or where I thought it should be from the lights and sounds of cars in the distance. I figured there had to be a little coffee shop, or diner in the town, as it was still almost light out, they should be open for at least another hour.

Dinner was uneventful, roast chicken, potatoes, corn, coffee, and water. Too much coffee it turned out. By the time I was ready to leave, I was feeling the caffeine kicking in. So much for a long days drive. I decided to walk around and see what the town offered.

It was pretty much like any small town, a few streets, and small open city center turned into a day park. I walked around the outside of the little park, looking in the windows of the closed stores, seeing what they may have in the windows that was unique. Turns out there was not much I could see that I wanted. Most of the stores had displays of items people use on a regular basis. There was no undiscovered bevy of interesting trinkets in any of the windows.

I decided it was time to head back to the hotel, so I turned down the street towards the edge of town. As I walked I noticed the town did not spend a lot of money on street lights. That was okay as the walk over was level and uneventful. About the time I thought I was almost to the hotel, the town ended and turned into a county road heading somewhere.

I realized I turned the wrong way when I left the diner. I decided I could hook a left and come out around the street where the hotel was. There was tired tarred street with abandoned houses on the left side, and woods on the right, but no street lights. The good thing was there was no traffic either. I headed down the road, liberally taking up my fair share of the pavement as I walked.

About fifty yards down the road, I thought I heard walking behind me. I slowed down and it slowed down. I sped up and it did too. I was about to turn and see who was following behind me when what looked and felt like a large furry paw came to rest on my left shoulder.  “Keep walking”, a voice said. Adrenaline kicked in almost immediately and I started to walk faster in spite of myself.

The paw like hand had claws at the end. “A little slower if you please”, it said. I almost filled my pants as I made myself slow down and partially turned to see who ever thought they were being funny. What I saw in the darkness was not funny at all. It looked like a large dark cat walking on two legs. Only it was in the shape of a very strong person.

As I tried to comprehend what I was looking at, it said in that voice it had, “Trick or Treat,  a Fool to eat!” That was it, whatever muscle I had used a few seconds earlier holding back my pants from being filled gave way, and I was a soggy mess from my waste down. “They always do that”, it said in that same disquieting voice.

I didn’t know what to do as the hand-paw grip tightened ever so slightly. Think, think, I told myself. Yah, think when I could hardly keep from collapsing in a quivering stinky, soggy mess on the ground. Think I commanded myself!

“Trick or Treat”, ha, ho, how do you know about “Trick or Treat”? It was the best I could do in the middle of a panicked terror. “I have been doing this a long, long time”, the voice echoed. Oh no! I thought to myself, it has been doing this a long time. I am dead! Any second will be my last.

“What do you like to do when you are not doing this”, I asked? “Scaring people”, came the reply, “I like to scare people”. Think! I shouted inside my head. “How do you scare them”, I asked?

“I talk to them from the bushes. They can’t see me hiding. At first they think it is funny, someone they know, then they get scared and their voices start to shake. They always run away, sometimes whimpering! It is lots of fun, but it is over much too quickly. I don’t do it often, because they might catch me if I do it too much.”

To be continued….

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Please Wait For Dawn

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An old television series “Mash” still rolls across the airwaves on some channel or other, at some time of day or night. Mash was a series about a front line medical unit in the Korean War. The characters all did an outstanding job which made the show believable no matter how crazy the episode became.

The theme song for “Mash” is a song I rarely heard anywhere until after the Cast and Crew retired and all that was left were reruns. The song never caught on, but it still received some air time. The Mash theme song was named, Suicide is Painless. Unless you are paying attention you will not really notice the lyrics to the song. Some songs are like that. Songs like this one flow so smoothly, they float through us, and we never hear the words.

I want to get to the point of this post now, and there seems to be no easy way to do it. This is a post about suicide. I don’t know if because there are so many more people, suicide gets more publicity, or nothing has changed; but suicide comes and goes like the flu. It is especially prevalent among Teens these days.

I understand the reasons why Teens are especially vulnerable to the idea of Suicide. Peer pressure, feelings of not belonging, feeling distant, pressure to get good grades, and pressure to always be a winner, and other forms of pressure are constant when you are a Teen.

While these are serious matters, and very painful at the time, none of them are so serious that suicide is a good fix for them. We all have felt the pressure of surviving our teen years, and we all know how bad they can be.

The problem with suicide is the thought process. It is akin to Plato’s Cave. If you are not familiar with Plato’s Cave, here is a short explanation. A number of people are seated in a dark cave watching a play in front of them. The cave is so dark that you can not see the people seated behind you. Nor can you really make out the people in front of you other than there are people sitting in front of you.

The play is unfolding in front of you. You watch the actors and follow the story line. The story line is the story line of pain. When the pain becomes too much thoughts of suicide enter into the play. We get so involved in our pain, we forget there is a whole world outside of the cave. We become so fixated on our pain we forget about the rest of our life.

Our pain is intensified by external sources. People create or contribute to our pain. They may not intend to cause pain. They may want to be rid of their pain, or make someone else hurt like they do.

Somehow the idea creeps in to our thoughts that the only control we have over the drama on the stage is to stop the pain by stopping us. If we no longer exist the pain can no longer hurt. If we cease to exist, everything will be better.

Few people, especially Teens ever admit to feeling this way. I believe it is a lot more prevalent than we would like to think it is. I am of the opinion some of us try to pass our pain to others in the hope one day we will start to feel the pain going away.

We become so focused on stopping our pain, we do not see it will be the end end for us. The pain of life will go away, period. It is vital to understand the pain we feel is something in a state of passing. It will go away if we only move slowly and wait for it to move on.

This pain which hits many Teens, like everything else in life is only short term, even though it may feel like it will go on forever. Your Parents, Aunts, and Uncles, any adult you know has either gone through the same pain and feelings, or knows someone who did.

It is hard to think about before or after this all started, but you need to think about both before and after. Never before in your life has anything affected you like what you are feeling now. Don’t give up, you will be happy again. Wait for happier times to return.

There is an old saying, “It is always the darkest before the Dawn”.

If you can not see a way out of your pain or see a future, it is a sure sign the worst is over and Dawn is just around the corner. Dawn is worth waiting for, because with the Dawn is a reawakening of all that is good about life, and why life is worth living.

I promise you, if you can wait a day, week, month, even a year, the pain will go away and life will become what it is meant to be for you. All you have to do is know that life can not get any worse, you have hit the bottom, it will only get better. Dawn will be here soon, if you will only believe it will. If you can not allow yourself to believe the worst is over, take a minute or two to think about this:

There are an untold number of people waiting for you in your future who need you in their life. The reasons why they will need you in their lives will all be different.  If you never enter their lives they will never receive the gifts you have to give them. They will never be able to do for themselves what you are going to do for them. Please do not let these people down, they are counting on you being there for them.

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Illegal Mexican Work Force and Us?

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Here in the Southwest there is an expression used which is probably not heard in other parts of America, and certainly not in other parts of the world. To hear the expression, “Works like a Mexican” is one of the highest forms of praise anyone here in the Southwest who is not a Mexican National will ever hear about how they do their job.

Contrary to popular belief, Mexican immigrants in America, legal or not do not fit the picture that most of America appears to want to paint for them. I find illegal Mexican Nationals to be among the hardest working, most conscientious people I ever met.

Over half my meals each week are most likely prepared in some way by a Mexican. The home I live in was built by Mexican labor. Most of the low pay high risk workers I come into contact with  are Mexican. No matter where I choose to go or eat, whether it be a car wash, coffee shop, or upscale dining, it is likely that a Mexican works there.

I hear some people say, illegal Mexicans are taking all the jobs. I have to agree with this comment because for the most part it is true. Mexican laborers work at the most physical and lowest paying jobs in the local job market.

Mexican labor does jobs such as re-roofing houses in ninety plus degree heat (in the shade) eight or more hours a day. Mexican labor can be found working at processing plants for minimum wage – if they are not cheated out of it. Mexican labor frames and builds houses, do yard work, clear trash. Mexicans pray they hopefully not get cheated out of their pay when a greedy foreman or business owner calls immigration to report them working illegally at the end of the day or week.

Mexicans who enter America illegally are made out of the same stuff we Americans were made of a few centuries ago. Illegal Mexicans are first and foremost above the average in intelligence. They have to be to be successful in America with so much going against them. No one really is giving them a hand up, despite what is popular in the press. Most illegal Mexicans do not want a hand up, instead they want to be successful on their own, and left alone to live quietly.

Illegal Mexicans are risk takers. Some pay thousands of dollars to get across the border. They risk their health and life to gain entry in America. Some Mexicans die in the process of getting to America. Mexicans trying to get to America die of heat exhaustion in the trailers of semi trucks, the vast deserts, shipping containers, automobile cutouts, anything that could possibly hide conceal a human being.

Some Mexicans are murdered by the Mules they paid to smuggle them across the wasteland desert separating Mexico from America. Some Mexicans are kidnapped and forced to carry tens of pounds of illegal drugs across the border at gun point.

Mexicans illegally in America are for the most part hard working people. We Americans have become soft. When we agree to work for someone, it usually means we agree to show up for the agreed upon hours per week. We generally complain about what we have to do, and in some cases we do the minimum.

We Americans at times complain about our pay. We dislike for our boss(es) because they expect us to actually do work. We determine the parameters of our work, deciding privately what we will or will not do, and for how long.

Mexicans are thrilled to get a job, they don’t care the pay is low. All they know is they will make more money in a month than they would make in six months or more in Mexico, if they were lucky.

As an example, if a Mexican is hired to clean, they clean until they are told they can take a break. They don’t move extra slow and do the absolute minimum, or decide when they have cleaned enough for the day. They keep cleaning until the work day is done. They find something else of added value to do if they can not possibly clean anymore.

Illegal Mexicans are a thrifty people. They send enormous amounts of money home to their families in Mexico each month, sometimes paying a ‘handling’ tax, all while making a poor wage.

Mexicans do not generally have most of what we Americans have come to think as necessities for life. Illegal Mexicans are happy with less than the minimum, because what we Americans consider the minimum, illegal Mexicans know is better than they would have had on the other side of the border.

I have found most illegal Mexican people to be warm, caring, forthright, and honest. That is more than I can say of some Americans living in the same neighborhoods as their illegal Mexican neighbors. Mexican’s are generally very family oriented, and prefer law and order to violence and trouble.

Almost all the violence and murders committed by Mexicans is drug related. Illegal Mexicans, in my experience are meek and humble. They do not have any choice. Even the smallest public incident could mean deportation.

My life would grind to a quick halt without Mexicans doing work for minimum pay which some born and raised Americans are too good to do for so little money. Whether the situation is right or wrong is another matter. Most cities in the Southwest could not enjoy the level of luxury and comfort they enjoy for so little, if it were not for illegal Mexican labor taking care of our wants and needs in all areas of our lives each and every day.

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Fear Based Life is No Life

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I read a recent post on a forum of a person who writes they hear knocking and being touched by something unseen. They write they are scared to the level of being terrified. I wonder what there is to be terrified of?

If someone knocks on a wall from the next room is that scary? If they touch your leg and you did not seen them is that scary? If there is really something close to him (as he thinks there is) he can not see, is that a good reason to be scared?

The majority thought of what is happening to him is collectively it is something bad. He hears some noise he can not find the source of. He feels something touching him he can not see. He sometimes feels a presence next to him that he can not see or touch, but it does not feel normal. He knows it must be something out to harm him. All the replies he received to his post were about various ways to either protect himself, or make it stop.

He is scared because this is something foreign to him. Why he would remain  scared is conditioning he learned growing up. What we as humans usually do that other large animals do not is we rarely transfer out of our fear state soon enough.

If you have a pet, or know someone who does, pay attention to what the pet does in a new situation where the pet is initially scared. When something happens that scares your pet, they react with fear as a healthy normal response.

After a few seconds if nothing hurtful happens, curiosity takes over and the pet becomes more interested in what is happening. It calms its fear because it understands fear is no longer an appropriate response.

The pet becomes curious as it tries to understand the new situation. What is in it for the pet, is there food, or is it something to play with? We humans on the other hand, stay stuck in a fear state knowing it must be something bad.

We allow ourselves to remain afraid even though nothing happens to be afraid of. Fear is a healthy emotion and has contributed to our being alive, however it is an emotion we overuse and abuse.

Unlike a normal animal, the poster won’t let go of his fear. He is more comfortable remaining in a state of heightened fear, than embracing the possibility of having nothing to fear.

One of our former Presidents in his Inaugural Address repeated an old quote, “[The] Only Thing We Have to Fear Is Fear Itself“. Fear leads to inaction. Inaction does not contribute to our health and wellbeing. Inaction caused by fear leads us down the path to victimization.

Fear stops us of thinking of other possibilities. This poster, hearing noises and being touched is terrified. Perhaps there is a good reason for this happening. Maybe the poster’s attention is wanted, and this is the only way it can be garnered.

What would the poster have written for example, if the first time he heard the knocking and felt something touch him, he awoke and his home was on fire? What would he be writing then? I doubt it would be a fear based post about how terrified he is. The poster would have posted about how fortunate he is that something touched him, waking him up from a sound sleep, and saving him from a horrible end.

The Poster and his fear based state, who is the main subject of this post aside, it is time to change the focus to us. How many fears do we carry around, allowing them to shape the direction our life, and keeping us from what may be the best changes we ever made in our life?

Some amount of fear is good. Fear is a healthy emotion when used correctly. Allowing fear to take over our life, fear becomes a debilitating disease. We allow ourselves to become so overwhelmed with fear we cease to make choices we know are best for us.

As for the poster, what is causing his fear may have stopped already, or it may be with him for the rest of his life. To the end of his post, nothing had happened that could even be vaguely dangerous to him. Holding a detached view at what is happening to him, there is no reason to be terrified. Annoyed, upset, or angry are possibilities, but fear is not.

For a more in depth reading of our new fear based culture, here is a good read on the subject: The only thing we have to fear is the ‘culture of fear’ itself, a PDF file, which can be viewed in your web browser with a plug you may already have installed.

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