Goodbye, Floyd

I just found out about some sad news for any Alaskans or expatriates: well-known panhandler Floyd died April 7, 2004.

Anchorage drivers have one less reason to smile. Floyd is dead.

For more than two decades, Floyd Kaleak, a mentally impaired panhandler with a wide smile, danced and waved at passing cars from street corners all over town. Some considered him a nuisance. Others called him an ambassador of good vibes, an Anchorage icon.

Wednesday morning, one of his caregivers found Kaleak dead, still seated in front of his television in the tidy white house he rented off East Third Avenue and Eagle Street. Kaleak, 45, appeared to have died of natural causes, Anchorage police said.

The news touched many at police headquarters, said spokesman Ron McGee. Though they had responded to dozens of calls involving Kaleak over the years, “I think officers here at APD felt some affection for Floyd,” he said. “Someone here said he contributed to Anchorage in the only way he could. He made his mark.”

Anyone who lived in Anchorage for any length of time new of Floyd. You could see him all over town on any given day, standing on a street corner — I most often picture him in my mind at the corner of Northern Lights and Minnesota — bouncing up and down, waving at everyone who drove by, always with a bright, cheerful smile on his face. As long as I can remember living in Anchorage, he was as much a fixture of the city as anything else.

At one point, I heard a story about Floyd that may be something of an Anchorage urban legend, as it is somewhat (though not entirely) contradicted by some of the details of the news story, but it’s stuck with me for a long time as a shining example that no matter what, limitations are only limitations if we allow them to be.

Floyd was somewhat mentally retarded — not enough so that he needed to be confined or looked after in an institution, but enough that holding down a job wasn’t a realistic possibility for him. Because of this, he survived on the generosity of strangers, panhandling and collecting change from drivers and passersby as he danced and waved.

At one point, the police had to tell him that panhandling was illegal, and that he couldn’t do it anymore. Since this was how he lived, though, they told him that you could get a “panhandler’s license”: a legal necessity generally used by people who participate in Anchorage’s annual Renaissance Faire as beggars so that they can keep any tokens tossed to them by fairgoers. Floyd, doing what he could to stay out of trouble, saved enough of the money he collected that he was able to go to the city and get a panhandler’s license so that he could legally support himself in the only way he was able to.

As it turns out, the story itself may be only partially true. The news story mentions that Floyd “got a state business license for his panhandling activities. It was never valid, but it made Kaleak something of a folk hero among the city’s street people….” Either way, valid or not, it wasn’t just the street people that that license impressed.

Goodbye, Floyd. Keep on dancing.

iTunes: “Heavy Weather” by Caia from the album Isola D’Amore (2003, 5:06).

More megapixels isn’t necessarily better quality

Something I need to keep in mind while continuing my search to replace my digital camera: 8 megapixels isn’t always better than 5.

With spring has come the release of several new 8 megapixel “prosumer” digital cameras. These new “digicams” sport the latest optics, metering, focusing systems and of course, sensor resolution. I would contend, however that in many cases the limitations imposed by capturing 8 million pixels on a 2/3″ size sensor negate the assumed advantages of increased pixel output. There just might be more to look for when selecting your next camera than the number of megapixels listed in the specifications.

Don’t get me wrong, I find that “8.0 megapixel” stamp on the front of the camera as enticing as any other high-tech craving camera connoisseur. The problem lies not in the number of pixels recorded, but in the quality of those pixels. Now, if I am to make any sort of logical argument that labels these new cameras as having “low-quality” pixels, I must provide a concrete example of “high-quality” pixels for direct comparison. Thus, I introduce into the argument the current crop of digital single lens reflex (DSLR) cameras.

The Slashdot discussion that I picked this up from has a lot of good discussion buried in it too, including this fun little tidbit: the cameras on the Mars rovers that have been sending back all those gorgeous, ultra-high-resolution digital photographs?

One megapixel.

NASA’s Spirit Rover is providing a lesson to aspiring digital photographers: Spend your money on the lens, not the pixels.

Anyone who has ever agonized over whether to buy a 3-megapixel or 4-megapixel digital camera might be surprised to learn that Spirit’s stunningly detailed images of Mars are made with a 1-megapixel model, a palm-sized 9-ounce marvel that would be coveted in any geek’s shirt pocket.

Spirit’s images are IMAX quality, mission managers say.

Even more amazing, at the end of that article comes the little tidbit that the sensor in the Hubble telescope is a whopping .8 megapixels — only 800 by 800 pixels.

Of course, if I could get a portable camera with the Hubble’s optics attached to it, I probably wouldn’t need all those extra megapixels either….

One week notice: my b-day!

Consider this one week notice for any of you that might be in the Seattle area: next Monday’s my 31st birthday, so I’m making the yearly “haul your ass to the Vogue and hang out for a while” call for Saturday night, May 1st.

For those of you who’ve been to the Vogue before, you know the drill. I should be there between 9 and 10 at the latest, very possibly earlier. This may be a pretty busy night, though — there are two other birthdays for Vogue regulars that night, and it’s the 10th anniversary celebration for Mickey and Ogre (NSFW user icon on that post…), so expect lots of people (though it’s likely that only the people who already know me will have any idea that it’s my birthday celebration too).

For those of you who don’t know the Vogue and might be tempted to stop by — it’s a goth/industrial/new wave club, so in general, black is by far the predominant color. I’ll be doing the boots/kilt/shirt combo, which in most other places would make me stick out like a sore thumb, but as there were no less than three kilted boys in black at the Vogue last night, not so much there. ;)

I’ll also be there on Sunday night (since at midnight it’ll actually be my birthday), so if there’s anyone who’d rather avoid the potential Saturday crowds and doesn’t have to be up too terribly early on Monday morning, that’s certainly another option. Of course, Sundays being the fetish night, be prepared for somewhat more extreme clothing choices by the regular patrons (which, for me, is often one of the reasons I enjoy Sundays…).

Anyway, that’s about as much planning as I’m likely to do for this thing. Hit the Vogue, bounce around to good music, hang out with any friends who feel like showing up, and generally have fun. Wheee! See you there if you can make it…

iTunes: “Headhunter 2000 (Apoptygma Berzerk)” by Front 242 from the album Headhunter 2000 (1998, 5:42).

Bottomless bathtubs

I have no idea when or why, but at some point in my youth, my overactive imagination — probably triggered by the slightly hollow echoes produced when stepping into the shower — seized upon the idea that there was no actual support structure underneath the bathtub. The tub was only connected to the house at the edges where you could see it caulked to the wall, and underneath there was only a vast, gaping chasm. I was terrified that at any point during a bath or shower, the caulking would give way, or the bottom of the tub would drop out, and I’d go plummeting into the depths of the earth.

Of course, this is very silly.

But even now, every so often during a shower, I’ll get a slightly nervous tingle in my psyche, and quickly check the seams around the tub to make sure that there are no obvious cracks…

iTunes: “Inski” by Critters Buggin’ from the album Guest (1994, 3:11).

TypePad IDs are TypeKey IDs!

Has this information been made public yet?

Mark Pilgrim‘s b-links pointed to this post that uses Six Apart‘s new TypeKey comment registration system. Even before reading the post itself, I noticed the “sign in” link for TypeKey, and since I’m curious about how it is going to function, I figured I’d see if I could set up an account.

I hit the sign in link, and then went to the registration page. When I put in my usual login name, though, I was told that that ID was already in use. Since I hadn’t signed up for TypeKey previously, this came as something as a surprise to me.

Suddenly curious, I went back to the sign in page and tried logging in using my TypePad login — and what do you know, it worked! Nifty — apparently, anyone who uses TypePad to run their weblog auto-magically has a TypeKey login.

(Moments later…) Aha — apparently I wasn’t the first person to discover this: Michel Vuijlsteke pointed this out in the comment thread. Damn, and here I thought I was getting a scoop….

(A few more moments later…) Argh — David Ely beat me to it too. ;)

One downside I’m seeing right away: when I leave a TypeKey-authenticated comment, my name shows as “djwudi” rather than as “Michael Hanscom”, and I can’t seem to find a way to change that. Hmmmm….

So now the question becomes, when do TypePad users get to start playing with TypeKey on our weblogs?

Why not?

Abortion?: Needs to stay legal and safe — making it illegal won’t stop it, it’ll just make it unsafe.

Death Penalty?: I waffle. Most of the time, I’m anti-, though there are people (like Gary Ridgeway) that really make me question that stance.

Prostitution?: Legalize. Again, it’s not going to go away, might as well do what we can to make it safe for all parties involved.

Alcohol?: Not much of a drinker, myself — one or two drinks on the weekends when I go out. All things in moderation.

Marijuana?: If I could find one person who wanted me to sign a “legalize hemp” petition that even tried to convince me that they cared at all about hemp, I might sign it. Every one I’ve ever encountered, though, just wants to get stoned. Generally, I have less problems with pot than I do alcohol — I’ve never seen a violent stoner, but I’ve seen plenty of angry drunks — but on a personal level it bored me to tears every time I tried it (I got hungry, stupid, and sleepy, all of which I can do quite well on my own without paying \$40 an eighth for the privilege), and I’ve seen people I care about do way too much, and contrary to pro-pot propaganda, yes, it does affect you beyond just the “high”. Growing up in Alaska’s very pot-friendly environment went a long way towards souring me towards the entire “pot culture”, and it’s one of the soapboxes I can get on very easily…

Other drugs?: Only ever tried pot, acid and shrooms. Pot bored me, acid was fun for about two years, shrooms gave me one very good, intense, introspective trip — and that was the last time I did any drugs. I can’t universally condemn drug use (the right drugs in the right situations can make for anything from a fun vacation to a good amount of soul searching), but on the whole, I really don’t recommend them (the right or wrong drugs at the wrong time can be a very, very bad situation).

Gay marriage?: Why do we even have to prepend “gay” to “marriage”? Two people love each other, let them do what they want, including marriage. This shouldn’t even be an issue.

Illegal immigrants?: Not an issue I really know enough about to make an intelligent argument one way or the other. Gut feeling is that the majority of them are just people doing their best to survive in the best environment possible who for one reason or another have difficulty navigating the labyrinthine beauracracy of the US Immigration Service.

Smoking?: A bad habit I need to quit.

Drunk driving?: No excuse. Should be an automatic, permanent revocation of the drivers license.

Cloning?: Very cool. Proceed with caution.

Racism?: Stupid.

Premarital sex?: Whenever I can. ;) More seriously, sexual compatibility is far too important of an issue in a relationship to leave to chance. Not only do I not have any problems with premarital sex, at times I think it should be required. Besides, I often question whether or not I ever will get married, and as I’d rather not go the celibate route…

Religion?: Investigate the ones that interest you. Never blindly accept. Question, listen to the answers you receive, learn, make your own judgments, and form your own ideas. I was lucky enough to grow up in a very open atmosphere where discussion and questioning were not only accepted, but encouraged. My base belief structure is very much based on the Christian faith (specifically, the Episcopal church) that I grew up in, but I’ve also found much in other religions that appeals to me, and have incorporated some of them into my personal belief structure. Lastly, and most importantly, realize that for everyone, their beliefs are their own — and they have no more right to impose their beliefs on you than you do to impose yours on them.

The war in Iraq?: Mind-bogglingly stupid.

Bush?: Also mind-bogglingly stupid. Actually, realistically, that’s probably very unfair. However, I agree with few to none of this man’s viewpoints, beliefs, or actions, I think he’s doing some terrible things to our country, and his apparent insistence on combining his religious viewpoints with governing the country deeply disturbs me.

Downloading music?: Generally something I only do when searching out rare tracks that cannot be found any other way. Whenever possible I will purchase the CD — directly from the artist if possible, through a store if necessary (the artists may not get much from their contracts with the studios, but they’ll get more than if I download the track).

The legal drinking age?: No major problems with it, though I wouldn’t mind if it were the same as the smoking, voting, and military service ages. Seems more than a little silly that at 18 you can cast your vote to influence the direction and leadership of the country or get sent overseas to be killed, and at 19 you can legally poison your body with tobacco, but you can’t down a beer until you’re 21.

Porn?: In general, no issues with it whatsoever. On a personal level…an occasional thing, but nothing that’s really ever interested me that much. I toss this quote out every so often, so you may have seen it here before, but when my dad was in the military, there was one serviceman who didn’t have the porn collection that most of the other soldiers did, and he generally wouldn’t go along on the trips out to the strip joints or (ahem) “massage parlors”. When asked why, his response was simply that, “I’m not particularly interested in sex — unless it’s specifically directed at me.”

Suicide?: I can’t understand it. Never have, and never will. No matter how low I get, how bad my life gets, or how depressed I get, I know that things will change. There are a lot of things in this world that I haven’t seen yet or haven’t done yet, and I don’t want to miss out on the chance to see or do a single one of them. Things are bad every so often, sure. But things are pretty damn good a lot of the time, too, and I simply cannot envision voluntarily giving all that up.

(via Mickey)

Worker loses job over photograph

Sounds kind of familiar in these parts, doesn’t it? This time, it’s a bit more serious than a few computers, though.

Last Sunday, the Seattle Times ran this picture, taken by a civilian cargo worker based out of Kuwait:

Coffins on the way to the US

Today, the lead story in the Times was detailing how the woman who took the photograph has now lost her job because of the photo.

A military contractor has fired Tami Silicio, a Kuwait-based cargo worker whose photograph of flag-draped coffins of fallen U.S. soldiers was published in Sunday’s edition of The Seattle Times.

Silicio was let go yesterday for violating U.S. government and company regulations, said William Silva, president of Maytag Aircraft, the contractor that employed Silicio at Kuwait International Airport.

“I feel like I was hit in the chest with a steel bar and got my wind knocked out. I have to admit I liked my job, and I liked what I did,” Silicio said.

Her photograph, taken earlier this month, shows more than 20 flag-draped coffins in a cargo plane about to depart from Kuwait. Since 1991, the Pentagon has banned the media from taking pictures of caskets being returned to the United States.

The Times has a good series of articles on the controversy surrounding the publication of the photograph, including an editorial from Sunday explaining their decision to run the photo after it was submitted to the paper by a friend of the photographer.

The caller said she had a picture a friend had sent to her. “Somebody should see it,” she said.

Barry Fitzsimmons, a veteran photojournalist, has handled many of those calls and knows most of the pictures are never published. The Seattle Times photo editor also knows, “one in a thousand is a gem,” so he agreed to give this one a look.

When the photo arrived, “I just said wow,” Fitzsimmons recalls. “The picture was something we don’t have access to as the media,” and yet it seemed undeniably newsworthy.

[…]

Readers likely will have differing reactions to the photo, depending on their views of the war.

“It’s a photo that evokes an emotional response and one that people are sure to see through their own filters, political or otherwise,” said Espinoza, who is responsible for the Sunday front page.

Some readers will object to the image because the press has been largely denied access to take photos of coffins returning from war since the 1991 Gulf War.

Some will see the picture as an anti-war statement because the image is reminiscent of photos from the Vietnam era, when the press wasn’t denied such access. But that isn’t Silicio’s or The Times’ motivation.

“We’re not making a statement about the course of the war,” Fitzsimmons said. “Readers will make their own sense of the picture, their own judgment.”

One of the most interesting things to me was a poll attached to a list of reader reactions, where the Times asked whether visitors to the website supported or opposed the military’s ban on such photographs. Survey on the photo banAs of just after midnight on Friday morning, with 684 responses, the poll shows an overwhelming 86% of respondents choosing “I disagree with the ban; the public has a right to see what’s going on.”

Admittedly, Seattle tends to lean more liberal than many other places, but I was still somewhat surprised to see that the results were that heavily weighted in that direction.

I’ll freely admit that I’m one of that 86%, too. One of the things that has bothered me about this war, and that bothered me about the previous Iraq war, was how utterly impersonal it seems much of the time. While the casualties lists keep growing (706 dead, 2374 wounded and not returned to duty — and there’s a large question of just how many soldiers suffered injuries that would have killed them in earlier wars, and now, while alive, are severely disabled), we here at home see little beyond a few statistics in each day’s headlines that all too soon are buried in the onslaught of reality show wrapups, celebrity scandals, and other pablum that passes as news these days. Statistics will only really get noticed by the people that are looking for them — it’s photos such as Silico’s that will really affect the most people, whether they choose to view it as an indictment of an injust, unnecessary war, or as a comforting reminder that the dead are not forgotten and are treated with respect on their journey back home — or both.

That said, I’m not as sure as I used to be that I’d necessarily call for completely unrestricted media access to all areas of a conflict. A quote from Louisiana State University professor David Perlmutter in an article looking at the arguments for and against releasing such photographs really struck me: “The Normandy invasion was a success, but how would we have felt at the time if we had seen the pictures of all these dead American soldiers on the beaches?”

Casualties are, of course, one of the many very sad side effects of a military conflict. Speaking generally, and not just about the current war in Iraq, I don’t believe that we should be shielded from that fact through media blackouts instituted by a government afraid of letting the public see anything outside the accepted party line of America the Saviour — the costs of war should be as publicly accepted and known as the possible benefits in order for people to decide where they stand for themselves. Those costs, though, should not be the only things reported (unless that is all there is to report) — the unquestioning presentation of only one side of any story is little more than propaganda.

The current war has, until recently, seemed to be presented to the American public as just that kind of unquestioning propaganda, unfortunately. That seems to be changing as the casualties mount, and while it’s a sad thing that it took this long for the media to start to attempt to break free of the “everything’s fine” face the Bush administration seems to want to present, at least it’s starting to happen.

Kudos to the Times for presenting the photo, for doing their best to present it without an overt editorial slant, and for exploring the controversy around its publication. Best of luck, also, to Tami Silicio and her husband (who was also dismissed from his job, a decision that I don’t understand, and isn’t explained in the articles) as they return home and face the prospects of finding work again.

(On a side note, I suppose it was inevitable: my situation was brought up in the Daily Kos discussion thread about this.)

Freedom!

Only in Seattle would buying clothing involve standing in the middle of the store lobby, having a large bald man stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, and then assist you in dropping your trousers to your ankles.

Me in my Utilikilt

Rick came by my apartment this morning to drop of some checks for a few DVDs that had been bought, and we figured we’d have time to hit breakfast before I had to be at work. Since I’d just gotten a birthday check from Prairie, I suggested a stop on the way to food — and off to Utilikilts we went.

I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be purchasing anything today, as all the kilts are hand-made, and if they don’t have the style/size/color you want on the sales floor, it’s a six to eight week before your custom-ordered kilt will be ready. The guy on the sales floor was quite helpful, though, and luckily enough, they had one of the two styles I had my eye on available in black and in my size.

Not sure if there were dressing rooms or not I started to look around, when he told me to just stand with my back to the front door and undo my belt. He stood behind me with the kilt opened up, then as I undid my fly and let my pants drop, he wrapped the kilt around me. As I worked on the buttons, he noticed that my pants had only dropped about as far as my knees, and proceeded to grab them and give them a quick tug to get them all the way down around my ankles — at which point Rick nearly burst out laughing.

The first kilt was just slightly too short for my legs, so after spending a couple moments waddling around the showroom floor (as I’d not removed my shoes, so my pants were still bunched up around my feet) he brought another kilt out, and with a quick reprise of the switcheroo, we had the second kilt on, which fit perfectly. Quite satisfied at this point, I kicked off my shoes and took my pants off the rest of the way, tossed them in my bag, paid, and we were off to breakfast.

Not fifteen minutes later, as we were walking into the IHOP just off of Broadway, two gentlemen were heading in just before us. “Nice kilt,” said the one holding the door. I grinned, and thanked him. I think I’m going to like this…

After breakfast, Rick ran me down to work. I walked in, and as I walked behind the front counter, I paused for a moment as Valerie and Darcy looked at me. “Okay,” I said. “I think this ought to be acceptable dress code!” They both laughed, and I continued on into the breakroom to find Rob, my manager. Unfortunately, he was on the phone, so I spent a few minutes paging through the employee manual. According to the dress code, “pants, skirt, or dress” are considered acceptable — and as a kilt is in some sense a form of masculine skirt, I’m firmly of the opinion that not allowing me to wear it would be sexual discrimination!

Unfortunately, Rob wasn’t entirely sure of that, and as our regional manager is fairly strict on dress code, it was decreed that I had to put my pants back on for work. Ah, well — it was worth a shot! ;)

I did change back into the kilt before I left, though, and did get an appreciative honk and wave from a cute blonde in a convertible on my way to the bus stop. Rock on! I definitely think I’m going to like this!

iTunes: “Dead Stars” by Covenant from the album United States of Mind (2001, 5:12).

Neal Stephenson: Confusion

I so need to get to the bookstore soon — Confusion, the second book in Neal Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle (which began with Quicksilver) is out. Salon has an interview with Stephenson and a review of Confusion up which both look good, though I don’t have time to read them right now. Argh! :)

(via Boing Boing and /.)

iTunes: “.^.^.^%^%\^%” by The User from the album Symphony #2 for Dot Matrix Printers (2002, 6:38).