I'm still alive. You?

Just shut up and watch this. 6 minutes. 

Living In Flynn

I wanted to tell you about a terrific family I know and the challenging odyssey they are currently traveling on together.

Jim Flynn is a colleague and friend. He and I have shared many ASMP leadership foxholes. Jim, and his wife, Kathy (a gifted writer), got smart and moved their family from Boston to New Braunfels about three years ago. They have three kids - Sam-16, Abby-14, and Hannah-12.

Kathy has Myelofibrosis, a form of leukemia that destroys the function of the bone marrow. Kathy is now at MD Anderson in Houston. She underwent a stem cell transplant almost three weeks ago and will need to remain in or near the hospital for the next few months. So far, so good. You can follow Kathy's progress on a wonderful website called Caring Bridge. Remember I said she's a gifted writer. (Hint)

Becoming a potential donor yourself is insanely easy. Go sign up at Be The Match. You just never know who and how you might help.

A small army of family and friends has risen up and banded together to help the family navigate these tricky waters. Kid & House sitters, meal cookers, drivers, stand-in parents, prison wardens, etc... I've done one TDY as Mr. Mom and just started another. (Photo gallery here) While this TDY does carry some challenges, it is much more a wonderful privilege and blessing to get closer to this family and their circle of friends. It is also the perfect raw material for about 17 different sitcoms. I'm not kidding.

It's One Big Rolling Happy with all the highs and lows that one might imagine, but the overriding vibe and color is Love. The deep and strong love between Kathy and Jim, parental love, sibling love, and the special, cultivated love between friends and neighbors as we soldier through this life together.

The reason for all this - if you have not guessed already - is that Kathy and Jim are two remarkable people. Kind, loving, generous, humble, funny, loyal - these are the Flynns! (The fact that this sort of praise you are reading here embarrasses the hell out of them just makes this honest admiration that much more rewarding to reveal.)

Cancer is one mean, pervasive bastard. He will touch your life soon, if he hasn't already. We have better weapons every day but it's still not nice. Previously, I struggled (and failed or quit trying) to figure out what I could do to help the fighters in my life. Now I know - it just depends. It might mean steady prayer, it might mean being a patient ear, it might mean cooking some meals, it might mean helping clean out the pantry, it might mean doing an extended sleep-over, it might mean being nurse. You just never know and the needs change constantly. I was lucky enough to be explicitly asked this time, but I reckon most often you'll have to ask. But you will be given the chance to help. Take it. You really owe it to yourself to try. Trust me on this. You'll see.

Being a part of this adventure has helped me appreciate far better my own blessings - my own three courageous and generous children, my family, my friends, my health, my life. Our Father's love truly knows no limit.

With all my best wishes to you and yours.

Clem

(Update: I am deeply saddened to report that Kathy's father, Dr. Howard Dubin of Ann Arbor, passed away this past weekend. I had only met him through his children, but they have shown me what a strong and loving man he was. Kathy's Caring Bridge diary has much more insight.)

Platypus Undercover #3 - The Thrilling Conclusion!

The Platypus Masters (PF, Dirck, Platypus)

Platypus Workshop Class, Rockport, Maine, Summer 2010.

True

We are done. Nobody died.

Today feels very different, mainly due to the relief of not facing another 12-15 hour day of Video Brain Boot Camp.

PF Bentley is a true evangelist for video filmmaking/journalism and a tireless drill sergeant. Short of death, he would not allow us to fail at this endeavor. He was with us every step of the way. Dirck Halstead played his role as Good Cop/Zen Master perfectly. Due to the patient wisdom of these two men, we are all different now. We might even be able to make a go of this video craze now....

My student film can be seen here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmnGsWZZK3Q

This film is rife with problems, (believe me, they we were inventoried by PF and Dirck) but I assure you that it is a quantum leap forward in sophistication from my pre-Platypus abilities. I won the Most Improved award, to give you an idea how primitive I was/am.

I am haunted by thoughts of getting enough B roll, framing the headshot, audio, audio, audio, shooting for the edit, 10 seconds, pacing, audio mix, audio mix, audio mix, steady camera, get even closer, the right codec, and audio.

The Platypus Workshop was 95% relevant to me and where I am at today with my Motion skills and knowledge. I endorse it whole-heartedly and with wild abandon.

Possibly-Not-So-True

Dirck watches just one bad student film too many and completely loses it. Starts screaming "This all your fault, Deaver!" Gouges out his own eyeballs with a spork and must be restrained before he can do unspeakable things to the Platypus mascot. Is said to be resting comfortably. Under heavy sedation. And under heavy guard. Now guaranteed to be one of the subjects of the next Platypus class's films.

Blunt critiques by PF lead to 4 crying jags, the invention of 23 new curse words, 3 fistfights, and an international incident between Tonga and the Ukraine. The circus midgets build a human pyramid and challenge PF to take his opinions about sound mix outside "So we can settle this like Little People!" PF's derisive laughter does not defuse the tensions, but his water cannon does disperse the mini mob, blasting one sucker right through the wall!

The final day of class fertilizes our relief such that it grows and blossoms into an all-out drinking binge. This leads to further violence, a small fire, more cursing, juvenile and surreal hand-shadow puppets on the screen ad nauseam, a BeachTek-flinging contest, the naked intimidation of all other Maine Media Workshop attendees (and by naked, I mean nekkid), and several unplanned pregnancies.

Graduation ceremonies come to a screeching halt when the Most-Likely-To-End-Up-Shooting-Web-Porn winner expresses her appreciation for the award in a previously anatomically-impossible manner. Much retching ensues.

We are escorted from campus under cover of night by the Maine Lobster National Lobster Guard.

Tech Talk

I have seen the future of Motion capture and it is shooting with a massive CMOS chip and high-end SLR glass. The image is just too rich, the focus and exposure options are just too tempting to be ignored, the entry costs and portability make it viable for a bazillion possibilities.

AUDIO

However, for sound capture, current DSLR's are a pig's breakfast:

1) Everything hinges on a lousy mini phone plug, no XLR's.

2) There's no way to accurately monitor audio recording in-progress.

3) Re-play to check picture and sound adequately requires removing the card and downloading to a laptop.

4) The hybrid solutions currently available would make Rube Goldberg jealous.

5) Far too many connections/devices involved - Murphy's Law loves this.

6) Independent recording devices seem to work well, but that defeats the whole utility of a fast-handling rig.

FOCUS!

Focus during shooting is still problematic. With all the reliable auto-focus options available to the still photographer, it's maddening to have to prefocus every shot - MOTION shots, no less - and rely on a little LCD display (even with a viewer-assist/hood) for getting it sharp. This runs counter to the wonderful look of shallow focus - not very pretty unless you nail it. We have the technology, dammit, so let's incorporate this! And what genius decided to turn off the camera display when plugged into an external display?

Note to Canon: You are off to a great start. Address these short-comings in your next generation and you will own the world.

Note to Nikon: HELLO!?!?!?!? Is anyone home?

FCP

Final Cut Pro is Photoshop on exponential steroids. There are a million capabilities, doodads, and shortcuts hidden from the casual/rookie user. We only scratched the surface and gained basic Survival FCP training, and that took many, many hours. I have no idea if Premier is better for this or that and, frankly, I don't want to know. My brain is full and oozing out my ears. But if I can learn what I have learned, then anyone can grind through this to the Promised Land of FCP-based, income-producing filmmaking.

Sincerely,

Tiger The New Filmmaker, Esq.

Need B Roll?:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SItFvB0Upb8&

Platypus Undercover #2

True:

This is one mother of an intense learning experience. The art and craft of storytelling with motion pictures is broken-down into digestible bits, and then shoved into your brain at an alarming rate. It's the difference between learning how to read a book and learning how to write a book. PF Bentley has perfected a teaching style that throws you out of your comfy chair and forces you to reassess everything you thought you knew about motion. Both he and Dirck are Masters of Motivation. These guys are good. I think they have done this before.

We are sent out on daily assignments that require successful execution of that day's component. Every component builds on the previous ones. The daily review of our work is a special torture. You are called to the front of the room and your naked footage is screened, dissected, and critiqued with surgical candor. It is humbling but it is also powerfully enlightening. The message is simple - If you want to play in the Big Leagues, then you had better bring your A game to every single frame. As always, Simple does not equal Easy.

We are using the Canon 7D DSLR and a new universe of add-ons to make our films. The resulting footage's quality is astonishing. Extraordinary color, detail, and shallow depth-of-field combine to deliver simply beautiful images. This also means our screw-ups are all-the-more dazzling too. And we are just starting to play with sound and editing, so now the mountain gets steeper.

Possibly-Not-So-True

My cover is almost blown! PF declares he smells a rat and threatens to withhold our rations of grog. Fortunately for me, the real Tiger Woods is suspected, charged with treason, marched out behind the classroom, and summarily shot with an old Betacam. The last we hear of Tiger, he is moaning. Curiously, he does not sound like he is in much pain.

The class is a disparate, motley lot. Bikers, ex cons, a defrocked Jesuit, several loyal-yet-clumsy Cubans, and an entire family of circus midgets. Several fist fights break out the first day when rations are distributed. The Cubans cause a scene today when they are caught hiding secret electronic listening devices in our shotgun microphones - apparently not very clear on the concept.

We are shown superb examples of editing from Hollywood classics. Who knew that Porky's III was such a landmark of innovation? Who knew Tarantino was so tender? Who knew Disney could be so erotic? (I'll never see Dumbo the same way again.)

Tomorrow we are going to delve into the proper way to stage a Hollywood scandal and make a fortune on the celeb circuit.

Tiger Woods

Platypus Undercover #1

As part of my journey into Motion, I am attending the Platypus Workshop for the next ten days. As a service to my colleagues and a reality-ceck for myself, I offer you these dispatches and observations. In an effort to conceal my true identity, from now on I shall sign these reports as Tiger Woods. Please do not blow my cover!

Background:

After almost 30 years in the Stills biz, a convergence of trends, technologies, personal inclinations, and an unpaid mortgage compel me to venture into Motion. After a few sorties convinced me of the possibilities, I plunged into FCP and a hi-def camcorder in January. Having now gotten a firm grasp on what I do not know but need to know, Platypus offers the real-world training I need. Gail and Tom gave it their highest recommendation and one ignores them at your own peril. Dirck Halstead promised it would dramatically improve my love life.

True:

The drive from San Antonio, Texas to Rockport, Maine is long (2,200 miles in 3 days) but uneventful. Great pizza in Carlisle, AR and bad drivers in Pennsylvania. The Maine Media Workshops setting and atmosphere is idyllic, good vibes abound. Excellent food and smart conversation. Orientation last night with Dirck and PF Bentley clarifies the Boot Camp nature of this course. Unlike many of the other concurrent courses, ours is filled with nothing but serious pros looking to elevate and expand our game, no dabblers.

Possibly-Not-So-True:

$12,000 tuition made me swallow hard, but I took the plunge. But then came the $27,500 hotel/meal plan. And then came PF's $131,000 must-have gear list. (Gold-plated Sennheiser headphones? Really?) And then you have to get there without dying first. Rockport is populated with folks who like to throw lobsters at each other. This was amusing until a 20 pounder landed in my lap. There ain't enough melted butter in Maine to tame an angry red before spontaneous circumcision, let me tell you! Class begins with magnanimous insults and clever abuse. We are shown terrific footage and then told that this was made by other people, not us. Damn, this going to be harder than I thought!

Tiger Woods

HFP Day 4. Ohio – The Cold descends upon my soul like a water balloon dropped from a high balcony. My quarry cleverly eludes me, always on the move. Waddling bastards. The Sun has abandoned me, nothing but dreary gray and despair.

Spirits are high.

Hunting For Penguins. Day 3. Ever northward. Thought I saw a polar bear in Kentucky just now....

I am Hunting For Penguins!

The Big Dig

THIS WAS A YARD

As some of you already know, we have been watching our home warp and crumble around us for the past 4-5 years. It all started 3 minutes after we finished painting the final room.

A shifting, bending foundation is the problem. The causes of this problem are manifold:
* High clay-content (often misidentified as "caliche") soil which expands and contracts greatly - depending on how much moisture is present
* Poor, no, make that horrible site prep by the builder
* Inadequate use of stabilizing, imported fill
* Penny-wise pound-foolish cut-and-fill hillside technique
* Grossly inadequate residential house-building codes and lame inspection practices
* An epic ten-year drought punctuated by two Biblical rain events.
* A non-sober and possibly delusional original construction crew.

These factors combined and conspired to cause our foundation to drop over 6 inches in some areas. A time bomb built in to our home in the early 80's slowly and finally detonates. And our neighborhood has a 80-90% affliction rate. (Ca-ching!) The original builder carries no legal liability. D'oh!

We've hired two different consulting engineers, collected proposals from seven different foundation outfits, and consulted with three arboriculturists. All these experts and zero consensus about the best cure.

Get rid of all your trees!
Your trees are not the problem!
You have a leak!
You don't have a leak!
Insurance will cover i!
Insurance won't touch it!
Gotta tunnel!
Gotta punch holes!
Steel piers!
Concrete piers!
Injected-foam columns!
Lego piers!
Ten Grand!
Twenty Grand!
Thirty Grand!
Forty Grand!
Just water the foundation!
Watering is a waste!
Offer a Voodoo Sacrifice!

It's official: I detest expert opinions.

We went thru the five stages of grief:

1) Denial: "Not our house?!!?"
2) Anger: "I'm gonna find the builder and kill him"
3) Bargaining: "Maybe if we water 80,000 gallons per day...."
4) Depression: "It's gonna cost how much?!!?"
5) Acceptance: "We're screwed!"

So we finally decided to follow our gut, hire a proven contractor (the cheap guy who did not pressure us and has worked on a number of neighbors' homes) and ten days ago digging began. We now have 75 feet of tunnels (to access pier points and plumbing leaks) and over the next two weeks 30 concrete piers will be installed. Some will go as far as twenty feet deep. The result will be an almost perfectly level slab and a very stable base.

Then, after waiting a few months for the house to resettle itself, we'll bring in a sheetrock crew to patch, tape, and float. Then the Spalding crew will begin repainting.

And perhaps a little re-landscaping!

Pix attached. I'll send more later as things progress. Also, making portraits later this week of this remarkably hard-working crew.

Please send us your excess cash. And painters.

So now you know.

A New Page

We walked the MLK March here in San Antonio on Monday morning. Perfectly cool and clear. Well over 100,000 people - that's almost 10% of the population here.

Katie (11) got bored.

Nick (13) was bored.

Alex (17) got snarky.

Alex' girlfriend, Audrey (16), was polite.

Clem shot photos. Many, from the hip.

It's a singular moment in American History and I'm glad I dragged the kids to it and through it. Not the result I voted for but a result I salute nonetheless.

One more darkened door has been smashed open and one more group can see the real promise of this nation as their own. That's huge.

MLK predicted this moment, now it's up to Barry and Co. to deliver. We all lose if he fails. Terrorists and Recessions are equal-opportunity challenges.

Mr. Obama, we need your A game.

Is this a great country or what?

The Morning After

Dear Barry,

So you will be my new president in a couple of months.

Congratulations and may God be with you. 

I think you will quickly find getting elected is the easy part. You ran a brilliant, disciplined, scientific race. You positioned yourself in a way that allowed a broad spectrum of the voters to project their own needs/wishes/values/dreams upon you while holding your own close to your vest. You have risen from the most unlikely of origins to the most powerful office in history. You slew the Clinton dragon. Whodathunk that!?!?!

But now you must begin staking out what an Obama administration means. 

Overnight, the gravity of your words has increased a thousandfold. Prudence and wisdom must be your script.

Now you have the power, and the Congress, to effect change. May the long-term interests of this great country be your guide.

Unfortunately, your Congress is led by Nancy and Harry - quite possibly the two most shallow souls to ever hold those positions. The demonstrated cynical incompetence of this gang-who-couldn't-shoot-straight will likely become your biggest domestic headache. I'd start praying for a Capitol Hill coup, like yesterday.

Unfortunately, your Veep is Joe Biden - the political equivalent of Fredo Corleone. Maybe we can all just ignore him, OK?

The Pandoras of our world are loose and feeling frisky. You must be strong. You must be clear. You must make the difficult choices. Forget about your legacy, forget about French opinion polls. Instead, remember Reagan & Thatcher & Churchill & Truman. They made the tough calls, said the unspeakable, and ultimately left the world a far better place. Do the Right Thing and history will be kind. Following the Carter or Chamberlain models will cost us all dearly. Clarity is your friend.

Lastly, the Race Card in America is now officially dead. Thank God. No more excuses. No more whining. No more Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton shakedowns. I hope.

You have an unprecedented opportunity to now achieve great things. I hope and pray you do. We'll all be watching, we'll all be ready to help, we'll all be ready to give you the critical feedback you will need. Of that you can be sure.

Now, get out there, keep the ball moving, box out, use your elbows, and keep your eye on the shot clock.

Godspeed.

Citizen Clem The Photographer

FOOTBAWL

Just posted a new portfolio to the clemphoto.com website.

Youth Football.

Watching these kids move from inexperienced trepidation to hit-seeking missiles is a remarkable experience. I helped with coaching my kids teams for a few years and that helped me gain intimacy that would have been impossible otherwise. But it is very difficult to coach with a camera dangling from your shoulder so I had to pick my spots carefully.

The action itself did not interest me as much as the mood and light of the subject. Indoor sports have perpetually bland light but football always gives you something to work with. I found myself still concentrating on faces - something of a trend with me - and how they looked just before and after the action.

Sometimes I had to be a full time coach (nobody else showed up) and wrangle 25 boys thru their paces, drills, and scrimmages.

It was a blast. I highly recommend it.

Coaching Horror Story:

Flag football practice. 9 year olds. It's late. We are all tired. The sunlight is fading fast, no lights on a YMCA practice field.  Trying to have the boys execute a reverse. Our two speedster wide-outs collide head-to-head in the backfield at full speed. No helmets.

Sickest. Sound. Ever.

For a long moment, they are both on the ground motionless and I am certain I have just killed two boys.

They came out OK. Giant goose eggs. 10 minutes later they are cutting up with friends like nothing happened.

Ah, youth!

Seven Years

Seven years since that beautiful Tuesday morning.

Seven years since history took a sharp left turn away from peace and prosperity and towards war and woe.

Any student of history knows that 9/11's roots go back to the feckless anti-terror efforts of the 90's, the unintended consequences of the 80's, the unaddressed  aggressions of the 70's, the miscalculations of the 60's, and even back to the arbitrary map-drawing of the post- WWI Middle East.

An Iranian taxi driver told me last year that it goes back 2,500 years to Cyrus the Great's imprudent kindness to the Jews.

R-i-i-i-i-ght.

It goes back to the eternal conflict of good vs. evil and the perpetual efforts of evil men to seize and hold power by hijacking religions and exploiting innate prejudices. Fear and its offspring, Hate, taken to their worst possible conclusion.

Within nine months after 9/11, I visited all three sites. Those sights, sounds, and smells will never leave me. I have watched friends, family, colleagues, and neighbors enter and return from the front lines. I have watched a brother struggle within the intelligence community to keep our country safe. 

Seven years and we have not been attacked again here. That's really something. That was unimaginable in the fall of 2001. That is a testament to the valiant and often unsung efforts of our fellow citizens who have taken an oath to protect us and to our elected leaders who have had to make the most difficult and unrewarding decisions.

I know our domestic safety could be shattered at any moment by a single lucky terrorists. It is something I dread. But I also believe it is important to give credit where credit is due. 

Thank you all. Thank you to every single woman and man who has given of themselves to preserve our freedom. I grieve for every single American and Allied soldier and every innocent civilian killed or wounded by this epic and confounding struggle to bring more peace, stability, safety, and accountability to our mortal world. 

God bless you all.

This is a slide show I made about my visits to the 9/11 sites.

Tying Shoelaces

One moment you are teaching your child how to tie their own shoelaces, the next moment you watch them tying their shoelaces on their shiny tuxedo shoes as they get ready for the prom.

How did that happen so fast? Where was I when this was all taking place?

Children: Just when you're ready to sell them to a medical research facility, they go and blow your mind and humble you.

And they don't even realize it.

Or do they? We're talking about teenagers after all....

Dear Competition,

Dear Competition,

Stuff I've always wanted to know but have  been too terrified to ask you:

1) Have you ever thought about killing a client? 

No, really. I mean like a genuine homicide. With blood and everything.  And you meet with somebody you found on Craig's list at a scary bar, to work out details? And then they turn out to be an undercover cop? And it makes you pause and ask yourself if it was really worthwhile to get this worked up about a last-second cancellation? And you find out that sometimes it is not good PR to make the front page?

2) Have you ever felt like you are the stupidest person in the world? 

Like everyone else is ten million years ahead of you? Like you just made the biggest turd sandwich of your career? Like you're pretty sure everyone knows what a complete Gomer you are? 

No? Nah, me neither. 

3) Have you ever completely blown it and then lied your ass off to cover it?

I'm just asking. In a hypothetical sense.

4) Have you ever faked that you were busy?

When you were actually just getting your oil changed? And the service dude screws it up by yelling "You want new wiper blades too?" 

Bonus points if you had to take a call while you were naked. For any reason.

Well, except THAT reason.

5) Have you ever had to pretend that you did not care? 

If the other guy landed that killer assignment? But inside you were screaming "I hate them all! Fools! Can they not see how right I am for this! I hope the rental car explodes and kills them all!"

Bonus points if fortune suddenly turns back your way and you get the gig and you are certain that the other guy is now cursing you.

6) Do you ever feel like quitting? 

And going into insurance like your Dad told you to 30 years ago but you were too stupid and dreamy and stubborn and stupid to listen to sound advise? 

Really?! What a coincidence....

7) Does it ever bug the hell out of you?

That even after all this time, after all these winning jobs you've nailed, after all the other competitors you've outlasted,  even after all that you still have to market your ass off? That the youngsters out there don't know who you are and that all the rules have changed and that you were just getting the hang of things and then Boom!

Not that your getting old or anything.

I'm just saying....

Farewell Mr. Heston

I had the privilege to photograph him in Indianapolis for Eli Lillly and the ultra cool folks at Creative Street. We shot at a mansion rented for the occasion.

We had a shot with him on a stairway, slowly walking down as he spoke to the camera.  It was a long narrative from the script, requiring him to pause, gesture, and inflect just the right way at just the right times. First shot of the day, first take of the scene. He absolutely nailed it on the first take. Perfect. The director kind of squeaked "Uhm, OK. Let's get one more take, just for back up." He then told us that he was relieved because his knees were completely shot from a lifetime of playing tennis.

He regaled us with stories about Cecil B. DeMille, Orson Welles, and other serious Names from his career. We learned about his marching with MLK when that was a very risky thing to do. He said he still grieved for MLK and the lost promise of a life too short.

While he was casually visiting with the client, in-between takes, I moved in to get some candids. When he became aware of my shooting, he stopped in mid-story and turned to me. Very calmly and politely he said "Sir, I would ask that you kindly refrain from photographing me right now while I am visiting with these fine people. After we are done here, I will be more than happy to pose for you." But he said this in his natural Moses voice. It was all I could to squeak "Yes sir."

He could read a recipe and give it gravitas.

It so happened that we rode to the Indy airport together. It was so cool to watch the sky cap and everyone else just freeze in awe when they recognized him. He was unfailingly polite and respectful to all.

I will always remember him as a man of dignity and grace. We have lost a real class act.

My portrait of him, autographed by him, is one of my most prized artifacts of my career.

Read the Express-News blog from Jeanne Jakle.

Opinions

OK. So now everyone is blasting their opinions on every subject to everyone else on the planet.

As if the rest of us care.

And that very sentiment calls into question the basic point of this blog which is, for those of you who are slow on the uptake, a bunch of crap. Which calls into question the wisdom of this blog's audience.

So I am going to state right here, for the first time anywhere, for the record, that in my opinion, Jo Jo the Monkey Boy (right) is a very attractive person/mammal.

So there.

Cowboy's 2007 season summary

Downfall is an amazing film. This riff makes it perfect.

Photo Assistants: Vital or Expendable?

I think assistants should be treated like gaffer tape - just use what you need, tear it with your teeth, slap it into place, throw it away when you're done. 

IOW, camera fodder.

When things get slow on the set, it's especially fun to make your assistant cry in front of the client. 

Just for the sport of it.

Spalding 2007 Annual Report

Spalding Chronicles 2007 1.0

As told by Larry King

Show me the law that sez holiday cards must be mailed during the Holidays….St. Nick smothered us in electronica….Dennis Kucinich is underrated as a beautiful man….Belt sanders come in more than one size…Farewell to Scooter Rizutto….You have to take your shoes off for a pedicure….Katie sold her first painting at our garage sale…These days you have to look closely at your kid before you yell at them because their blasted iPod earbuds cut off all parental audio. Except for words like “cookies” or “allowance.”….Yelling louder works too. Sometimes…My pens simply evaporate off my home office desk. No one knows why…There’s no such thing as too much ice cream…”Don’t tase me, Bro!” Gotta love it…..Aardvarks are terrible dancers….Ten gallon aquariums can and DO break….Have you ever noticed that everything is better with coffee?….Switzerland has no navy. What’s up with that?…Our garbage disposal is growing obese….One more online password and I’m going postal….Nick is building and launching rockets. And getting grades for it!….Had no idea that terrorists deserve better treatment than their victims….DO NOT buy expensive carpets for your dining room…Picky eaters drive the chef nuts….You just can’t buy your wife’s clothes. Nor wear them….Barry Bonds: Maybe he IS lying……Shrimp Paesano is to die for….Loved the squirrel catapult….Slam-dancing on the trampoline is NOT a good idea…I hate it when my suspenders break and snap into my face. On the air….This World Wide Web thing – it just might last…Alex is driving his truck everywhere. You have been warned….Pickles are not weapons. Usually….Film Of The Year: Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai….Want to buy some acorns? Finest quality, Sahib…Dennis Miller for President!…Move over Patriots, here come the Cowboys…Teresa has discovered that work is, uhm, well, work!…..Doing our best to consume as many hydrocarbons as possible….Airports are not cool anymore….Towel-snapping is listed nowhere in Wikipedia….Toothbrushes can and DO clog the drain….Gravity is overrated as a romance-enhancer….Band Of The Year: King Pelican!….Does Drudge ever sleep?….Tim Duncan has all the tools….Glue can’t fix everything…..There’s no such thing as too much time at the beach….It’s called Fishing, not Catching….Do NOT let your children write the chore list….Reality TV is a crime against humanity….Who’s in the mood for some blue Earl Weaver?

Miami Beach, February 8, 1973

Spalding Chronicles 2007 2.0

Summary
Overall, good year. More highs than lows. Emergency services never summoned.

Katie
10 year-old 4th grader. Budding visual artist and singer. Compulsive jewelry maker. Knows no fear. Full of great questions. Hits her second wind every school night at 9:00 PM. Singular yet infallible fashion sense. Anything that moves or grows is her friend. Keeps the peace around the house. Or she’ll punch your lights out.

Nick
12 year-old 6th grader. A Renaissance Man. Defensive End-Violist-Scholar-Skateboarder-Serious Gamer. Attends a magnet school built around science/technology, mainly as related to rocketry. Does wicked impressions of virtually any character from The Simpsons, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Monty Python. Likes tattoos and fast women. That last sentence is not true. Texts with the best of them.

Alex
16 year-old 11th grader. The Year Of The Truck. The living reenactment of his parents’ teen years. Only different, better. (We deny everything!) National Honor Society, varsity swimmer, extraordinary big brother. Expert at texting, IM-ing, MySpacing, cell phoning, and homeworking. Simultaneously. 2008 will be the Year My ¶*©ø∆! Braces Come Off!

Teresa
(Age/Grade withheld.) A big year of transition. Graduated in May. Passed her state test and got her license in July. Full time Physical Therapy Assistant (PTA) in September. Still World’s Greatest Full Time Mom. (Ain’t no such thing as a part time Mom.) Not a big fan of health care couture. (Who picked THESE colors anyway?) Has not yet died from Clem’s cooking. Justifiably concerned about family’s sanity. Tells range-of-motion jokes.

(Name withheld)
(Age/Grade withheld) Finally has a website that is not embarrassing: Clemphoto.com. Well, less embarrassing anyway. Clemphoto.com. Retired from Cubmastering, YMCA coaching, and ASMP boarding. Clemphoto.com. Said farewell to friend and mentor, Jim Zintgraff. Clemphoto.com. Playing more and more in the video world. Stay tuned. Clemphoto.com. Family Food Czar. Nobody appreciates my Chicken Bubonica Messina. Clemphoto.com. Still trotting the globe in service of God and Client. Clemphoto.com.

Jack The Dog
Refuses to participate “...in such a self-indulgent and sophomoric affair.”