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When it comes to tech, it’s slowly come to our attention that we’re probably somewhere between an “early adopter” and the “early majority.” And we’re certainly not an “innovator.”
After conducting an honest comparison of my tech inventory with that of my wife, it’s clear that, despite an apparent knowledge of technology, I lag behind in the willingness necessary to throw my lot in with unproven new tech. Maybe because, after years of trying to stay at the forefront of computers, I had admitted defeat underneath a pile of outdates video cards and RAM.
History tells the tale. It was only a few years after that iPod thing came out that I finally thought it’d be worth a look. Then I rolled my eyes when my wife had — just had — to get one of the first iPhone 3s. She loved it. I really wasn’t even envious. I didn’t need one. (Some folks get the latest and greatest stuff, typically when its the most expensive. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s the übergeeks who become the guinea pigs beta testers, left to discover, deal with and help sort out any early bugs.)
But she upgraded, and being smart enough to recognize free as a very good price, I soon began to learn that a smart phone could, indeed, be pretty handy. I’ve since moved on to the iPhone 4, but only because I was eligible for discounted upgrade price.
resistance was futile
Then, inevitably, she suggested I read an ebook she enjoyed. I did, and discovered that this new fangled digital book stuff was pretty neat. In a device lighter than a small paperback one could carry a library shelf’s worth of books. But not neat enough to replace the free books one could pick up from the library. (That’s not to say I’ve been reading much lately, what with work, the gym, making dinner, and the normal busyness of life.)
Then libraries got into the act, lending ebooks. Amazon launched the free Kindle Owners’ Lending Library.
And a Kindle, the standard version without whistles and bells (and perhaps better fitting my grudging adoption of tech), arrived last month as a late birthday gift. I’ve since read three books and have begun to read the original “Dracula,” one of many books that was always on my reading list. Another upside to the Kindle: my dad can no longer crow about his library system’s mailing of books to patrons. A few clicks and 60 seconds later is all it takes to download my next book.
It doesn’t bother me that I took so long for me to jump on the bandwagon. Guess when it comes to tech, I’m just too cheap smart to jump in first thing.
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(Since embedding the video caused problems for my site, and some viewers, I’m offering the link now…)
Sweet; classical symphony and the burble of exotic cars…
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For Karen’s birthday, we played tourist and visited Alcatraz Island. I’d visited years ago, but this was Karen’s first trip, and we couldn’t have had better weather. I’ll let the pictures tell the story…
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I’m lucky enough to be able to say work and life have kept me busy, so there’ll be no whining about missing a self-imposed deadline for Friday’s post.
Last weekend was my end-of-the-trout-season trip to the cabin and the Sierra foothills. But we’ll let a few photos tell the story…
Fall on the on a Sierra foothill creek.
No big spawning browns, but this’ll do.
A really cheeky rainbow.
A big, early morning surprise on a smallish creek.
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It didn’t take long after high winds brought an early end to our adventures on Crowley Lake to decide that it was the perfect afternoon to introduce Willy to the wonderfully willing brook trout in an upper section of Rock Creek, just below the lake.
Caddis on Rock Creek.
Fall in the eastern Sierras is a feast for the eyes; the low sun filters through the yellow and orange leaves of the quaking aspens, the evergreens seem to take on a darker hue, and through a bleak and gray winter may be nearing, for now the sky is a brilliant blue.
It’s that time of year when small brook trout flame with spawning colors. Willy, a striped bass fisherman of note who’s landed big fish of many species, broadly smiled while cradling one of these gems in his hand; reminded of how fun and beautiful these trout can be.
The numbers of fish we landed was lost in concentration as we targeted specific fish. I’d started with a dry/dropper combination, but soon opted for only a small humpy, for no other reason than the excitement of surface grabs. I’d end up climbing, literally, upstream, targeting small whirlpools tucked between the rocks. Nearly every one gave up a fish.
This time of year just as colorful as the trees…
With the tops of the tree shadows reaching the far side of the creek, we both ventured upstream, where Willy pulled a few fish out of a plunge pool that offers a small, but textbook example of the effect of currents on the drift of a fly, with almost intimate takes from fish less than three feet away.
Thinking we’d already had too much fun, we found our way back to the road, from which Willy could get a good look at the lake. The plunge pool we’d been fishing was the outlet for the lake, and as if an illustration from any good fly fishing book, signs of rising fish dotted what was in essence the tailout for the lake. This was feeding activity that couldn’t be passed up by any fly fisherman.
The wind, accelerating down the canyon, made casting difficult, at least for me, but we both got flies out far enough and every decent presentation earned at least a strike, and a few rainbows were landed.
It has been a textbook day, and the trout did everything they were supposed to do. It’s the best way to learn.
As I figure it, I have a lot more learning to do.
fishing for words 