Stair and Railing Montage
Here's the original shot:
3/01/2006
Murder Machine
New York Post Headline: MURDER MACHINE CAUGHT
I can only make out the headline, not the date. I can remember creeping up because I could make out the headline (this was shot with a 21mm). Where else but Central Park, New York?
Lester
Lester - this one is for you. Now you can go back and read all your comments in the blog by just clicking here: all of Lester's comments.
As can anyone else with a distinctive name. Go to the advanced search by clicking the search button and then set the category to blog, fill in your own name and you should find a collection or your own writing. Good grief, what won't they think of next.
As can anyone else with a distinctive name. Go to the advanced search by clicking the search button and then set the category to blog, fill in your own name and you should find a collection or your own writing. Good grief, what won't they think of next.
International Orders
The worst Post Office in New York City is on 85th street between 2nd and 3rd avenues. I use them when I need to ship international. I had a 16 x 20 going to England and it had been packaged and waiting to go but given my coughing and now my sore ribcage (muscle pulled from cough) I didn't have the energy or patience to do the Post Office thing. But I went today. It didn't look that bad when I got there. About 10 people on line, and three clerks.
It took over 45 minutes to get to a clerk. By the time I left, people on line were shouting at the clerks to hurry up. The line stretched to the very back of the post office.
What happened was that every single person who arrived in the clerk's presence had either filled out the wrong form, or complex transactions to perform such as getting a passport! So you had your three clerks. One was working on a passport for the whole time. And now the line has about thirty people on it.
But to make it worse - they've never gotten the heating system right - so as you are standing there in your overcoat - the ceiling vents begin spitting out hot air. So now people are taking their coats off and grumbling about the heat.
The manager pokes his nose out to take a look. Sees the line stretching back to the door and then disappears, never to be seen again.
The woman behind me sneezes in my face and then I start to cough. The sound of the deep chest cough backs people away.
And there - ahead of me - is the complete moron of a clerk who always tells me that I've filled out the wrong customs form and why. He's just finished telling someone else they've filled out the wrong form.
He looks at the package and says, "this isn't more than 36 inches around."
Ah, but now I've got him.
Yes - it's 40 inches! I tell him with a tired grin. It's 40 inches and that, I say, means it has to go parcel post air-mail. It also means that this is the correct customs form.
He stops in his tracks.
(Personally, I wish that it wasn't more than 36 inches around since it costs twice as much, but not much you can do with the packaging if the mat is 16 x 20 is there? You've hit 36 around right there unless people in Britain want to get folded mat boards.)
Really - he asks, staring down at the flat package. It doesn't look like it's more than 36 inches.
He has a tape measure and insists on measuring it anyway.
He looks up at me with watery defeated eyes.
You're right, he says. This is 40 inches around. Parcel post air-mail.
I hand him the multi-page form and he begins stamping each copy.
Anything else, he asks - just to annoy me. Any stamps, any envelopes?
He forces me to say, nothing else. If there was something else I would have told him - no?
And he puts the sticker on someone yells from the line: Hey! Put on more clerks! Put on more clerks!
Coat in hand, I turn and walk slowly past the snaking line. That's it for me. I'm coughing and sweaty - but I've done my bit for the day.
It took over 45 minutes to get to a clerk. By the time I left, people on line were shouting at the clerks to hurry up. The line stretched to the very back of the post office.
What happened was that every single person who arrived in the clerk's presence had either filled out the wrong form, or complex transactions to perform such as getting a passport! So you had your three clerks. One was working on a passport for the whole time. And now the line has about thirty people on it.
But to make it worse - they've never gotten the heating system right - so as you are standing there in your overcoat - the ceiling vents begin spitting out hot air. So now people are taking their coats off and grumbling about the heat.
The manager pokes his nose out to take a look. Sees the line stretching back to the door and then disappears, never to be seen again.
The woman behind me sneezes in my face and then I start to cough. The sound of the deep chest cough backs people away.
And there - ahead of me - is the complete moron of a clerk who always tells me that I've filled out the wrong customs form and why. He's just finished telling someone else they've filled out the wrong form.
He looks at the package and says, "this isn't more than 36 inches around."
Ah, but now I've got him.
Yes - it's 40 inches! I tell him with a tired grin. It's 40 inches and that, I say, means it has to go parcel post air-mail. It also means that this is the correct customs form.
He stops in his tracks.
(Personally, I wish that it wasn't more than 36 inches around since it costs twice as much, but not much you can do with the packaging if the mat is 16 x 20 is there? You've hit 36 around right there unless people in Britain want to get folded mat boards.)
Really - he asks, staring down at the flat package. It doesn't look like it's more than 36 inches.
He has a tape measure and insists on measuring it anyway.
He looks up at me with watery defeated eyes.
You're right, he says. This is 40 inches around. Parcel post air-mail.
I hand him the multi-page form and he begins stamping each copy.
Anything else, he asks - just to annoy me. Any stamps, any envelopes?
He forces me to say, nothing else. If there was something else I would have told him - no?
And he puts the sticker on someone yells from the line: Hey! Put on more clerks! Put on more clerks!
Coat in hand, I turn and walk slowly past the snaking line. That's it for me. I'm coughing and sweaty - but I've done my bit for the day.
Try the Search Again
OK. I think it's going through the blog properly now. Try searching for Vuescan and see what you get (yeah, eventually this post will wind up in it too once it has been re-indexed).
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