Selfies Best Left to the Young

I've shot people. I've shot animals. I've shot nature. I've even shot a couple of weddings. I took a lot of my own photographs at the newspapers at which I've worked. I have even received advice from two award-winning photographers and won an award (an honorable mention, in fact) myself. But, try as I might, I simply cannot seem to take an acceptable selfie.



Me, enjoying my morning coffee.



A 'selfie' is a photo that you take of yourself, by yourself. One generally takes a selfie with a cell phone camera. I can attest to the difficulty of taking a selfie with a digital SLR, let alone a regular SLR.



Me, sitting on the front porch.



You can add others to your selfie, if you so choose. In doing so, you are no longer taking a selfie. You are now taking a 'groupie.' If we're keeping our pronoun suffix consistent, we should be calling it a 'selvie.' Or, perhaps, 'selvesie.'

Regardless of my futile attempt to grammatically correct slang terms, the fact remains that I have yet to take a successful selfie. Please note the examples placed within this post.



Me, feeding the dogs.

I've even attempted some selfies with my wife, who is generally more tech savvy than myself. Those attempts failed as well, most likely through no fault of hers!

My wife and I.

I decided to throw in the towel and call on the experts. Approximately seven how to internet articles later, I announced that I knew exactly what to do to finally take the perfect selfie. Needless to say, I followed their directions to the letter and, viola! I got the perfectly centered and composed photograph of me and my wife that you see here.

Now if someone could please tell me how to activate the flash on this stinking cell phone, I might be able to take a decent selfie!

Travel Guide to Kiawah Island

While Kiawah Island does have its dangers, such as alligators, monster spiders, snakes and other wildlife, there are other, greater problems with which island-goers may have to contend.

Having been to Kiawah Island for several summers in a row, I have not yet dealt with, or heard of, man-eating gators. Likewise with the spiders and snakes. It seems that one generally has to look for them in order to find them.

One of the first dangers that my massive familial unit encountered was a well-meaninged vacationer. Honestly, though, we attacked him first. We asked him to take a picture or two of an entire half of our family tree at one time.

"Click, click." We stood and smiled. "Click, click." We smiled some more as "click, click" guy pretended to take pictures.

"Click, click," he went a third time with his mouth. I watched as he moved the shutter speed button for the fourth time. Then he flipped my Dad's very expensive camera and glanced at the bottom. "Man," he said, "what a crappy camera this is!"

We did find someone younger to take an actual photograph of all of us. Luckily, she didn't have as hard a time finding the single silver button set on the black top panel of the Canon camera.

House strangers are always dangerous, especially when one is sitting on the toilet in the bathroom.

"Hello," said an unknown voice on the other side of the bathroom door. "Does the door lock?"

This was all my son heard. He told me he silently prayed that the bathroom door was solidly locked and would protect him from the unknown individual on the other side of the door.

It turns out that we were having technical difficulties with the lock on the front door of the house. Apparently, the handy man had come during the day and fixed it. The unknown voice belonged to the gentleman sent to follow up on the repairs.

I'm concerned about the long-lasting effects this may have on my son's psyche when visiting bathrooms in places other than our own home.

Bicycles are likely the most dangerous things that exist on Kiawah Island. Two nephews, my son, my father and myself were bucked off the back of our wild bicycles!

My nephews' bikes sent them sprawling in the road. My son's sent him head first through a sandcastle. I was not made privy to my father's fall. And my bike? It tried to send me head first through the spokes of my mother's bike. I, however, foiled its plan and fell safely into a patch of gator-less grass.

While Kiawah Island is a beautiful, fun place to be, beware of the bicycles. They can be dangerous.

Alligators and Old IPhones Prove Problematic

We're on day two of our lovely full-family Kiawah Island vacation, and I still haven't been able to take a good alligator picture for my readers.

It's not that I haven't seen any gators. Gator visibility isn't the problem here. The actual problem is my iPhone.

Notice the clarity of this yellow-petaled, short, long leafied plant. Basically, plants don't move and are easy to photograph. Gators, however, do and are a bit more difficult. (Note, if you will, my amazing botanical knowledge of Kiawah Island.) My iPhone doesn't take very good photos of things that move.

Plants, like this short, green leafied, pink flowery plant, don't shy away from people. I don't have to use my zoom function, which blurs everything to the point where it looks like a UFO. Or Bigfoot. Take your pick.

Thus far, I've had to use my zoom for all my gator pics. Note, in the photo above, Bigfoot peeking out of the water at me.

Also, because I'm utilizing an iPhone 3, I don't seem to have an autofocus feature available. That means I have a set distance I need to be in order for my pics to be in sharp focus. Notice, above, how well I shot this purple, short, feathery-fuzzy flowering plant with narrow leaves.

With all that being said, in order for me to get a good gator photo, I'm going to have to get up close and personal with one of the great reptiles. The distances I go for my awesome readers!

So keep reading Fuzzy, Black Dogs. I will soon be posting (hopefully) a spectacular photograph of a Kiawah Island alligator for my fans. Look for the post titled "High Point Man Harasses Alligator, Kicked Off Resort Island" or "High Point Man Eaten by Alligator."

The Significance of Breakfast Bowls

Of all the things people have to worry about these days, you would think breakfast bowls would not be that important. But when breakfast bowls break, their significance rises proportionately with the decreasing number.

My son is going through a phase where he breaks things. I know. When I was 16, I broke a few things myself. All sorts of things. Cereal bowls were not excluded.

My wife and I used to have 12 bowls that looked exactly the same. We're down to five, maybe six bowls, including the chipped one we use to feed Lilly, the littlest of the fuzzy, black dogs.

We store the bowls in three somewhat even, symmetrical stacks in the open cabinet above the stove. Twelve bowls divided by three stacks equals four per stack. Simplicity at its finest.

My wife recently replaced some of the broken ones with four new ones. Luckily, the bowls she got are all the same pattern, which helps with equilibrium, synchronicity and symmetry.

However, the badly needed new ones are wider and, therefore, will go below tho originals. Also, there are four of them to go into three stacks. Potentially problematic.

My wife's mother, who was unaware of our purchase, also purchased some nice bowls as a gift for us to replace some of the broken ones. While much appreciated, this has thrown my bowl system into some serious disarray.

These new bowls are the same size, but deeper. Also, they comprise of, again, four bowls -- two solid green, two solid red. While the colors do match the original bowls, once again we have four new bowls and three stacks.

Now we have approximately 15 bowls and three different sizes of bowls. Of these, we have two different patterns and one solid set. And the solid set is two different colors. And yet we still have just three stacks! My symmetry has been torn asunder!

Thank goodness I'm not OCD, or anything like that. Otherwise, this whole breakfast bowl fiasco could send me into a serious mental state.

The Truth About First Grade

We, meaning my teachers, decided to give our first-graders one last writing assignment for the year.  They had to write a letter to an upcoming first-grader, aka, a kindergartner, telling that person about first grade.

My last assignment as the first grade teacher assistant (I'll have new adventures in another role next year!) was to hand our soon-to-be second-graders sheets with five sentence starters. I even filled one out myself. Here it is, with the sentence starters in italics.

Dear upcoming first-grader,

You are going to have so much fun when you get to college. Or to the beach. If you're lucky, you can combine the two! Seriously, though, first grade is fun too. Really. It is. Should I try that one again?

You are going to have so much fun under your desk. Don't ask. I'm not sure. However, the kids that spend time under their desks often seem to be having the most fun.

You will never forget your teacher assistant. They're the best, especially good looking male teacher assistants. And, of course, your teacher. And any fun you happen to have along the way, such as time spent under your desk.

You need to know that your new teacher is out to get you. I mean, is not out to get you! I mean... Wait! Do over!

You need to know that your new teacher is a human being just like you. However, it's important to tell them how pretty/handsome they are. Regularly. And, instead of apples, they like Skittles. And Reese's Pieces. Oh, and M&M'S. Especially the peanut M&M's. Daily.
 

Remember to always duck. Chances are, you don't want the unidentifiable green objects that fly over from the next desk to actually touch you. It's best that you not know what it is or from where it originated. This may be a good time to practice crawling under your desk.

My final advice is take the time to learn proper protocol, such as the best way to crawl under your desk. The why is not important. It's all about the how and doing it with grace and panache and not getting caught until you are fully underneath the desk.

Your big buddy,

Mr. Haworth

End of the School Year Blues

In lieu of a blog post, we here at Fuzzy, Black Dogs are venturing into uncharted territory. We have created a video for a post!

Please click on the following link, which will send you to my YouTube video, simply titled, "End of the School Year Blues."

http://youtu.be/gKiSkmmd5MQ

I hope you enjoy!

Summer Plans, in Five Sentences

We're on the tail end of the academic year. After nearly 180 days of craziness, I know that my colleagues AND students are planning some well-deserved summer breaks.

We've already got the kids writing about it.

"Tell me what you're summer plans are," I heard one of my first grade teachers tell her students. "What kind of fun will you have. If you don't have any plans, tell me what you would like to do over the summer. At least five sentences, please!"

I don't know about those kids, but I have big plans for my summer. Allow me to tell you what they are.

I may get started on the hot tub in my back deck. How hard could that be? I also want to make a rock patio in a corner of my back yard, replete with a grill built into it. Oh, and I need to convert my son's fort into a utility shed while I'm in project mode.

I've got trips to schedule between the projects so I won't be bored this summer.

There will be at least two fishing trips to the beach. For everyone else, they're just beach trips. I'm thinking at least three trips to Badin Lake -- again, fishing.

I'm researching some blue ribbon trout streams in Montana, currently. I haven't mentioned that trip to my wife yet. No worries, though. What wife doesn't want her hubby to be happy?

Don't forget all the grilling that needs to take place. Grilling at my home. Grilling at the beach. Grilling at my friend Al's house. Grilling at the lake. Grilling fish, hamburgers, hot dogs, ribs, steaks, shish kabobs and anything else I can throw onto my grill!

Add to this list several numerous rounds of golf and a camping trip or two. Have I mentioned fishing? We'll squeeze in a little more here.

And then I'm going to... Wait! Have I exceeded five sentences?