There is a stretch of the highway along my commute, near my house, that has blooming flowers each Spring.  The flowers seem wild, but they aren’t.  They are an introduced species, named Carpobrotus edulis, or Ice Plant, which is a succulent plant originally planted in Southern California to help stabilize the soil and reduce erosion.  The flowers are rather nice, to be driving along and see waves of different shades of purple and pink flowers along the roadside.  I’ve often wanted to take a photo (or two) of the flowers during the day as well as when the flowers close during sunset.

So, that’s what I decided to do.  Right after my son’s soccer practice, I dropped him off at home, grabbed my tripod and camera and headed back out.  I picked what I thought was a rather nice location to capture the closing blooms right as the sun went down in the west.  I was a bit late, because by the time I got set up and started shooting, the sun had already dropped behind the mountains.  I had got only about 6 shots done, low to the ground right next to a 30-foot lamppost that was just out of frame, when a California Highway Patrolman pulled up behind my truck.

Well, I was done at that point.  He was in the shot I wanted to take, and CHP don’t normally stop to admire the flowers or make idle conversation.  As soon as he got out of his vehicle, I picked up my gear and told him “Okay, I’m leaving.  I just stopped for about 5 minutes, but I’m going now.”

He motioned for me to stay, with his overgrown masculine/overcompensating flashlight/nightstick.  “This is for emergency stopping only”, he shouted at me over the roar of the highway traffic passing by, as he drew closer. “I don’t think taking pictures is an emergency.”

“Well, no, its not.” I replied.

Before I could get another word in, he asked me for my driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance.

“Sure, hang on, I’ll get it,” I said as I took my license out of my wallet and handed it to him.

I started digging in my glovebox for my registration and insurance paperwork, when he shined his pole vault pole of a flashlight into the glovebox (presumably to make sure I wasn’t packin’ heat).

“Havin’ trouble?” he asked me, as I rifled through my glovebox looking for the paperwork to fulfill his request.

“I have it all here, somewhere,” I told him. There is a lot of stuff in my glovebox.  None of it could be considered a weapon.  I pulled out my registration from 3 years ago, and another from 2 years ago, and yet another that expired last month.

He saw that I had multiple registrations from years ago, looked at the ones expired in 2007, 2008, shook his head, and saw the one dated 2009.  He said, “Ah, there ya go.”

I noticed it had expired last month, and pointed that out to him.

“Yup.  You’re right.  Have a current one?”

“Well, I’m sure I do,” I said, “just give me a minute, I know its here somewhere.”  Finally, I pulled out the current registration, which is actually smaller than a 3×5 card, believe it or not.

“Proof of insurance?”

“Oh, right.  Sure, hang on.” I replied, as I continue rummaging through all the stuff my glovebox has collected.

I managed to hand him GEICO insurance papers from 4 years ago, 3 years ago, 2 years ago, and last year, but couldn’t find the current piece of paper that said I was insured.  Crap!  “I know I have it somewhere, but I just can’t find it at the moment.”

“Well, make sure to tell them that in court,” he said with a sideways smile.

I continued to put my photo gear away while he went back to his squad car to make sure I wasn’t a sereal killer, wanted in multiple states, or had a record for random acts of violence.  After I put my stuff away, I noticed that he started writing, and occassionally would glance over at me while I leaned against the side of my truck while I waited.

Finally, he came back over to me and explained that I am not allowed to stop on the side of the highway unless it is for an emergency.  He pointed out that I could be hit by a drunk driver, or worse.  I calmly retorted that it was barely 7:30pm, that I was next to a 30-foot lamppost, and that I could easily run up the embankment to dodge anything coming at me.

“No, that wouldn’t help ya.  I’ve seen everything,” he bragged.  “So, what are you taking pictures of, anyway? Flowers?”

“Flowers.  Sunset.  I even got parts of the road, to make a scene.”

“Its cloudy.  And the sun went down.  These flowers close up after sunset,” he explained to me, as if I was out of my mind.

“Well, yes.  That was my plan.  Overcast clouds tend to subdue the sun, making it seem larger but not brighter.  Sunset, coupled with the flowers closing up for the night alongside the cars passing by might make a nice photograph.”

He shrugged and restated that it was dangerous to be parked on the side of the road.  I wanted to ask him that if it was dangerous to be parked on the side of the road, and if it is for emergencies only, why shouldn’t we move, but I decided to not say anything because I didn’t want to get into an argument.  What I had planned to be a 10 minute photo shoot ended up taking me half an hour, and didn’t want to make things worse.

The citation was for … and I’m not sure since I can’t read his handwriting …   parking in an emergency zone (side of hwy), and not having proof of insurance.

I asked him, “So, I guess this is a fine?”

“Yes.  Its a fine.”

“I see,” I said.  “How much are we talkin’?” I asked him.

“Oh, I don’t know.  That’s something that’s specific to the county,” he told me.

See, the California Highway Patrol only operates, and has jurisdiction over, the state highways, which run through different counties in California.  So, depending on where and which highway they stop you, you may be subject to different fines and/or court process.

Well, seeing as I hadn’t really accomplished what I set out to do, have a citation to boot, and I didn’t even have time to look at the photos I had already taken, I was anxious to get home.  So, I left.

As it turns out, after looking over the 7 photos I managed to capture, they weren’t horrible.  Not entirely what I wanted, but they didn’t make me vomit.  I should’ve changed lenses and taken slower shots with more exposure, to brighten up the flowers and sky.

Over my years of photographing (over 20 years now), I learned that photography is not just the study of light.  It is the capture of something that most people either take for granted or simply don’t notice.  It should provoke an emotion, and draw the viewer into the photograph so that they can feel what was felt at the time it was taken, or feel something different altogether.

What I was going for was: the flowers closing during sunset, while people whizzed by, most of them paying very little notice.  I’m not sure if I got that much in the photo.  What I get by looking at the photo is “that one time I got a ticket near my house for taking a photo of flowers.”

A Picture is worth a Thousand Words, and 1 Traffic Citation

For the uninitiated, UNIX time is based on the number of seconds since the “UNIX epoch“, which is 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC.  Practically speaking, UTC actually means Greenwich Mean Time, but GMT is not used in technical contexts and was replaced by UTC (or UT1) in 1972.

To find out when 1234567890 time will occur in your local time, there are a few ways to do this right on the command-line:

date -d @1234567890

or

perl -e ‘print scalar localtime(1234567890),”\n”;’

For me, in PST timezone, it will occur: Fri Feb 13 15:31:30 PST 2009.  I wonder if 1234567890 has anything to do with it being Friday the 13th.

They start by introducing a paintball gun robot that fires paint in succession…  The CPU analogy.

Then, they unveil a paintball gun with 2100 barrels to complete the GPU analogy, and paint a somewhat elaborate picture in just under a second.

This is a great idea and loads of fun, but based on my tests it’s not yet working as well as it should.

Things I’ve seen on the Internet that could be read as having a sexual reference, but was probably meant as innocent and harmless, in no particular order:

• “Download this”.
• “I’m going to Google myself”.
• “I want to hug my Yahoo”.
• “Microsoft”.
• “Flickr”.

This is by no means a complete list, but I’ve only started keeping track and no others come to mind.

Oh, and ladies… in case you didn’t know, Strong Bad is quite the ladies’ man!
Catch his romantic advice here.

TROGDOR!! TROGDOR!!! Trogdor the Burninator….

By FAR my mostest and bestest favoritest episode?
The one with Ali. And Ali’s sister.

You should see the link in the margin on the left, but in case you don’t… here it is.