I found some dust on my camera's sensor so I decided to clean it. It was difficult, but after a while I got it clean enough. The water hose helped a lot!
From my experience with the sneaky dust on my sensor, I came to understand one thing clearly: Dust is watching us!
I've figured it out! These little dust creatures are entirely evil and mean. They do anything they can to get to camera sensors. I believe that they must eat sensor surfaces, or breed on them—or else why would they go to such lengths to get on them? I think I saw a dust crop circle on my sensor earlier today. They're clearly signaling their brethren.
After my sensor cleaning experience, I decided to eradicate dust from my house. I started seeking dust—and found it. I crawled down behind the toilet and found some dust collecting back there. I blasted it with an air can and it fled. I then sprayed the area liberally with Lysol to kill the nasty dust. I don't want it to breed.
Next, I looked above my bathroom cabinet and found some dust lurking on top of one of the light bulbs. I unscrewed the bulb and put it in a ziplock baggy for later washing in the yard with my water hose. I sprayed the air to make sure that dust wasn't trying to follow me out of the bathroom.
As I went downstairs, I saw it! Some dust was on my left arm. It tried to blend in, but I could see it hiding behind the hairs. I whipped out a moist towelette and eradicated the dust, and from excessive pressure, the hairs too. I hope it doesn't scar. But, it was worth it, 'cause there's no more dust on my arm.
When I sat down at my computer, I noticed that my monitor had some dust on the bottom lip of the screen. I squirted a bottle of sensor-cleaning Eclipse fluid on the screen, and it ran down on the dust, effectively killing it and washing it away ... right into my keyboard.
After I replaced my keyboard, I noticed that my monitor was changing colors. Stupid Samsung SyncMaster! I've been wanting to get a more expensive monitor anyways.
As I sit here looking around the room, I realize that dust is everywhere around me. This is much worse than I thought. I'm going to go boil one of those allergy masks in Eclipse fluid, so that I can safely wear it. I don't want to be breathing this dust into my delicate lungs ... especially after all that screaming at the dust on my camera's sensor.
Hmmm, my chest is still sore from screaming ... or is it? Could it be that dust is already in my lungs, and that's why they're sore? OMG, I think dust has gotten to me. It's killing me. I am going to go eat some moist towelettes soaked in Eclipse fluid. Hopefully that will help!
If you don't hear from me for a few days, it could be because of these guys in white coats that Brenda called. They just told me that they were going to take me to a special room to wait while they clean all the dust out of my house. Whew ... I just love my dear Digital Brenda.
Well, I gotta go. The guys brought me a special dust repellant coat with arm coverings and cool buckles for safety. I am gonna wear it for a few days to protect me while they remove the dust. I guess this will help my arm heal too!
Talk to you guys soon. Watch out for dust bunnies!
Keep on capturing time...
Darrell Young
Saturday, August 28, 2010
May I Send You a Picture?
Back in 1979 I bought a great slide projector and a screen of my own. I had a few boxes of Kodachromes lying around so I thought I'd invite all my friends and family over for a nice slide viewing.
Things went well up to about the fortieth slide. Then, boredom started setting in. Not my boredom, mind you, but that of my friends and family. I could tell it was over when my best friend accidentally knocked over the screen on the way to the bathroom, and everyone cheered.
The dinner afterward was nice, but I doubted I'd ever do a slide show again. I'd learned something that day. My images mean a lot to me, but to others, not quite so much.
Later on, after filling up piles of albums with prints, I would invite friends over for dinner and "let" them see more of my images. I was quite amazed to find that the average friend's tolerance for images was about 36 or so. After that their eyes begin to glaze and strange groaning utterances would proceed from slack, drooling lips.
For years afterward, I would only show images to friends with big SLR cameras. Of course, in exchange, I had to sit through thousands of boring pictures produced by them. I don't even fully remember some of those sessions, since I clearly entered a state of photo induced stupor. It was hard for me to imagine that my images could be boring to others. "No way!" (I would say). "Way," said they!
Well, time passed by, and with it wisdom grew on my part. When I felt the need to display my exceedingly wonderful images, I would show them to my wife. When I noticed her eye start twitching, I would stop there and count the images. From that, I learned that a wife could handle up to twice as many images as the standard friend could. Finally, I could get away with image presentation for a limited time. My record is now up to about 40 images for friends, and around 86 with the wife. My sweet mom has been known to sit for as many as 100 images without drooling.
In July 2002 things changed. I bought a digital camera and stopped making prints or slides. I discovered that I could load up an e-mail with maybe six digital images, and send it to dozens of people at once. With great satisfaction I calculated that if 30 people viewed six of my images, it would equal a single friend viewing 180 of them. On top of that, I found that many people—with brains dulled by endless e-mail SPAM—would actually take as many as three e-mails per day without complaint. Can you imagine my happiness when I realized that the equivalent would be a single friend looking at 540 of my incredible images in one sitting?
Rejoicing is upon me! Who needs slide shows or albums full of prints, when, with a single click, I can send my images off into the Ethernet for viewing by many. When I imagine that some of those friends might be forwarding the images on to their friends and family, I get downright giddy. Thousands upon thousands of people out there appreciatively viewing my astounding images.
I must stop writing now since I just bought one of those e-mail lists with about 30-million e-mail addresses. I'm gathering 10 completely unbelievable images for a mass mailing. When I think of the great joy I've brought to all my friends and family—and their friends and family—with my hourly e-mails, I know this is the right thing to do.
So, if you get one of my photos in your e-mail, be happy. I am!
Keep on capturing time ...
Darrell Young
Things went well up to about the fortieth slide. Then, boredom started setting in. Not my boredom, mind you, but that of my friends and family. I could tell it was over when my best friend accidentally knocked over the screen on the way to the bathroom, and everyone cheered.
The dinner afterward was nice, but I doubted I'd ever do a slide show again. I'd learned something that day. My images mean a lot to me, but to others, not quite so much.
Later on, after filling up piles of albums with prints, I would invite friends over for dinner and "let" them see more of my images. I was quite amazed to find that the average friend's tolerance for images was about 36 or so. After that their eyes begin to glaze and strange groaning utterances would proceed from slack, drooling lips.
For years afterward, I would only show images to friends with big SLR cameras. Of course, in exchange, I had to sit through thousands of boring pictures produced by them. I don't even fully remember some of those sessions, since I clearly entered a state of photo induced stupor. It was hard for me to imagine that my images could be boring to others. "No way!" (I would say). "Way," said they!
Well, time passed by, and with it wisdom grew on my part. When I felt the need to display my exceedingly wonderful images, I would show them to my wife. When I noticed her eye start twitching, I would stop there and count the images. From that, I learned that a wife could handle up to twice as many images as the standard friend could. Finally, I could get away with image presentation for a limited time. My record is now up to about 40 images for friends, and around 86 with the wife. My sweet mom has been known to sit for as many as 100 images without drooling.
In July 2002 things changed. I bought a digital camera and stopped making prints or slides. I discovered that I could load up an e-mail with maybe six digital images, and send it to dozens of people at once. With great satisfaction I calculated that if 30 people viewed six of my images, it would equal a single friend viewing 180 of them. On top of that, I found that many people—with brains dulled by endless e-mail SPAM—would actually take as many as three e-mails per day without complaint. Can you imagine my happiness when I realized that the equivalent would be a single friend looking at 540 of my incredible images in one sitting?
Rejoicing is upon me! Who needs slide shows or albums full of prints, when, with a single click, I can send my images off into the Ethernet for viewing by many. When I imagine that some of those friends might be forwarding the images on to their friends and family, I get downright giddy. Thousands upon thousands of people out there appreciatively viewing my astounding images.
I must stop writing now since I just bought one of those e-mail lists with about 30-million e-mail addresses. I'm gathering 10 completely unbelievable images for a mass mailing. When I think of the great joy I've brought to all my friends and family—and their friends and family—with my hourly e-mails, I know this is the right thing to do.
So, if you get one of my photos in your e-mail, be happy. I am!
Keep on capturing time ...
Darrell Young
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