More comment spam. You won’t see it from reading, but it’s on the rise. I’ve changed the ‘blog configuration so that anonymous comments are no longer allowed… which means that if you want to leave a comment, you’ll need to create an account and log in. It’s a hassle, I know. Blame the Cialis advertisers.

Kublai’s incontinence is reaching new levels. His dog bed reeks of piss no matter how often I wash it, and the carpet is going to get threadbare from being steam cleaned. The vet says the next step is an ultrasound to see if there’s anything visible causing it. If it’s senile incontinence, there’s not much that can be done about it.

And the fact that it’s great makes it suck more. The weather’s finally beginning to get nice, I’ve got a new camera I want to play with and it’s finally nice enough to get out, the bike is calling out to be ridden… but spring and fall are always the busiest times for me at work. Several classes come together at about the same time, resulting in lots of work, and little time for play.

Or ‘blogging for that matter, it seems. A number of things have happened in the past month, but I’ll get to them a little later. One other sucky spring phenomenon has made itself known… as in, as soon as the weather starts to change, I get sick.

And, to the spammer trying to insert spam comments on the ‘blog? Nice try. Better luck next time.

Actually, I hate this stereotype… the donut-eating cop. You can see the donut shop is closed, and they’re actually eating at the restaurant next door to it. But… I do still have a sense of humor, and this is a funny picture. I can still laugh at myself.

Kublai is having bladder problems. He started taking a long time to urinate- not a lot of starts and stops, but it just trickled out. Got a sample for the vet, who says he’s got a raging bladder infection, and he’s on 2000mg of Amoxicillin for the next two weeks. He also seems to have developed a bit of incontinence, which may or may not be related to the bladder infection. Sigh… He’s 13 years old, and his mortality is becoming more obvious to me. The vet already hinted at that to me, mentioning possible treatments versus his age, which is not something I really wanted to hear from her. He seems fine otherwise, despite the arthritis in his hips.

Speaking of the vet, as a male, I feel a little uncomfortable in her clinic. It’s a very nice clinic, newly built, upscale looking without being expensive (cheaper than my old vet, in fact), and she seems knowledgeable and caring, but… I haven’t seen a single male working there. None. All female. Nothing wrong with that, no, but…

Well, at least no one’s threatened to neuter me while I’m there.

Film, the purists cry. And for a long time, I was with them.

Photography is another one of those hobbies that I dabble in from time to time, starting back in high school when I got my first camera, a Pentax K-1000, from a pawn shop. That venerable gadget lasted me for well over 12 years, until it took a tumble. I replaced it with another Pentax, a ZX-50, as I had several Pentax lenses by then. Well, the interest waned, and after a while I sold the whole setup, lenses and all. Someday I’d get another camera, maybe a digital SLR.

You know where this is headed. My federal and state tax refunds came in, and I went to the store. Since I’m not tied to any particular brand because of the lenses I used to have, I did a lot of research and came up with the Canon EOS 20D. Digital SLR’s are still a considerable chunk of change when compared to their film bretheren, but I think the advantages for my type of shooting are worth it.

What advantages, the purists want to know? True, no one cares about megapixels with film. With the right type of film, large blow-ups are no problem; with digital, you’ve got to have a lot of pixels for the same large print. Fine grain films and papers yield some stunning images. But… I’m not a professional photographer. I’m not going to make billboards with my prints. What digital allows me to do is see my images immediately after I shoot them. If I’m not sure about the f-stop or exposure, I’ll find out immediately if I need to change something. For an amatuer, that’s a godsend. I can learn from my mistakes right away, rather than waiting until the film is developed when I’ve forgotten what settings I used for print #25. And at 8 megapixels, while I won’t be doing any banners, I can still print a clear 11×17.

Below are a couple of sample pics I’ve taken while playing around over the last day.
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I like to think of myself as an author, or at least a writer. Published authors tend to sneer at that; because if you’re not published, you’re not an author. In any case, I like to think that I can take a nebulous concept or experience and articulate it well enough that anyone who reads it understands the concept or is transported to that experience. But one experience I’ve always had trouble conveying is riding a motorcycle. How do you concisely explain such a visceral experience? How do you make the reader feel the same things you did? I’m not alone in this, I know; many others before me have tried with varying results. The word “freedom” gets tossed about a lot, itself a rather vague and nebulous word. And “freedom” in some senses is the wrong word- I can hop in a car in a split second and get to the same places. If I want to hop on the bike, in involves a pre-flight list. Cold out- thermal undies? Check. Long pants? Check. High-top boots? Check. Leather jacket? Check. Helmet? Check. Winter gloves? Check. I ride a carbureted bike, so starting it in this weather involves a bit of choke tweaking and a warm-up period. Riding itself involves a lot more concentration that the average car driver gives to their driving- There is no protection on a bike, therefore all the clothing. Everyone else on the road is out to kill you; and sometimes, the road itself is too. You’re going to hit the pavement in a wreck, usually at a decent speed; and with two wheels, it doesn’t take much to end up in a wreck. So why the hell does anyone ride a motorcycle?

As you’ve probably guessed, I went for a short ride today, despite the fact that the high was somehwere just over 40. Those of you from cooler climes are probably scoffing right now; but I’m a Georgia boy. 40 is downright cold. We only see temperatures below freezing for a few weeks out of the year, and then usually only at night. But, I try to ride the bike at least once a week in the winter to keep from having to winterize it and put it away; as it’s supposed to snow/rain tonight, I figured this would be the only chance I’d get this week. So I shrugged into all the clothes, put on the helmet, and rode one of the shorter loops around the county.

The same drawbacks I mentioned above- the preparation, the lack of protection- are probably the very same reasons I ride. It is something more than just hopping in the car and going to the store- it’s a process, a ritual almost. While there are some that will hop on a bike in shorts and flip-flops (squids), their life expectancy is usually low. (and yes, I’ve done it before myself) “Pre-flight” was an altogether apt description of what’s going on. It turns the ride into something more than just routine. The lack of protection means that your life really is in your hands… the only thing that will keep you from becoming a skidmark is your own skill in handling the bike in any condition, no matter what the other drivers on the road are doing. You can’t trust in the airbag, the seatbelt, or the crumple zones to save your life if something happens, because their aren’t any.

Where my description breaks down is in describing the sensation of riding. You’re zipping down the road at 60; if you take your foot off the peg and drop it a foot or so, you’re touching pavement. There it is, rushing under your boot, a hard reality that modern cars make a distant notion. “Becoming one with the vehicle” is another oft-used phrase that’s so much cliche; but that’s what it is. If it wouldn’t screw up the center of gravity, I’d like to see a bike that doesn’t put anything in front of you- no gauges, no windscreen, nothing in front of you but the road. It’s the closest sensation to flying you’ll get in a land vehicle. On a good bike, every move you make is translated into the bike- you want to zip through this tight right-hand curve, you move the bike with your body. If you do it right, it’s not just a curve; it’s your own personal roller-coaster ride that you control. Riding the line through a good set of sweeping curves is a tremendous sense of accomplishment; akin, I would guess, to the feeling jet pilots have executing a tricky aerobatic maneuver; just with less chance of ending up as a fireball.

That’s probably why I’ll never own a cruiser or huge Goldwing-ish touring bike. I haven’t ridden one yet that didn’t remove you even further from the road, which is why I’m riding in the first place. Too much bike and you might as well be driving a car.

In other news this past week, I completed Field Sobriety Instructor. Another buy-bust that ended up in a car chase… Our Heroes were supposed to be selling 25 pounds of weed, but instead were aiming to rob the sellers- us. They ended up ditching their car in a neighboring county and I got my good shoes covered in mud searching for them in a field. We caught the driver that day, and the bag they ditched… which contained 40 pounds of primo, high-grade pine straw. That’s right, pine straw. Well, it’s still conspiracy to traffic; and at least they didn’t go further with the plans to rob the buyers; that could have turned out very ugly for all involved. Heh… the biggest grass bust in the county’s history… literally. Tomorrow I teach a basic RADAR class, provided the weather isn’t too ugly to scare off the students.

Decided to celebrate tonight: Bacon-wrapped filet mignon on the grill, a pint of Yeti Imperial Stout, and a Cohiba. Why? Well, I had quite a bit left over from this paycheck, and… the lawsuit was dropped. By the plaintiff’s attorney, no less. Seems he discovered that she lost her criminal case, and realized that if they continued with the suit, they would be open for a counter-suit for harassing lawsuits; so he filed to dismiss. So, that’s over; and possibly the quickest 42 USC 1983 lawsuit ever.

And lemme tell ya, I’ve become a lightweight; a pint of stout has me buzzed six ways to sunday. Reminds me why I don’t drink. The little bits of the subconscious that float up to the surface, borne on carbonated bubbles of alcohol.

And my left foot hurts. I woke up Wednesday with what felt like a stone bruise on my left heel, but how the hell did I manage that in my sleep? I wish I could remember the dream, because it must have been a good one. Has gotten somewhat better, but still hurts; like a deep bruise across the inside of my heel just below the ankle.

Anyway. Next week I’ll be in Forsyth again, this time for Standardized Field Sobriety Testing Instructor, provided I pass the test on the first day. It’s been a while since I’ve done any SFST, so it’s a good question whether or not I remember it well enough.

[thumb:191:l]Went by the gun store to pick up the revolver… the FBI decided I was a good person after all (see last post) and grudgingly let me have the gun I purchased. So here it is- .357 Magnum Ruger SP-101, 5-shot revolver. This may annoy the Smith & Wesson fans who read, but I’m far more partial to Ruger revolvers. To me, they’re just designed so much better, much more robust. Thicker top strap, offset cylinder advance notches (although S&W finally seems to have caught on in this arena), solid frame… sure, it makes them heavy; but when you run out of ammo you can pistol-whip someone with it. Took it by the range and put a box of ammo through it, despite the gale-force winds blowing today; decent 25-yard group even with the wind blowing me around and the short barrel. I’ve got my back-up gun back.

Which brings me to the title of the post- someday I’ll find an ankle holster that fit comfortably and works. The one I have now slides down my ankle and then spins around; I always feel like I’m going to kick it across the parking lot if I swing my foot too hard. But where else am I going to stick it?

Don’t answer that.

Ditto.

Got into the habit of staying up rather late over the holidays, and didn’t get to sleep Monday night until 2 or so… so Tuesday passed in a blur. As is usual with me, I was tired as crap when I got home but by bedtime, I was wide awake. I finally fell asleep, and then got woken up by the Nextel at 4am. One of the jurisdictions in our county had a barricaded gunman with an SKS rifle and was asking for the tactical team. Urrrgh… Woke up, dressed, was scraping the ice off my car when they called back- never mind, he gave up. Well, now I’m awake… got maybe another 45 minutes of sleep before the alarm went off. As a side note, it’s better to just stay awake; that little sliver of sleep just made me more tired. As a second side note, the least the inconsiderate bastard could have done was let us kick in his door after waking us up at 4am.

Qualifications (see a couple posts down) went OK, despite my misgivings. A few people took more than one try, a couple required remedial; which I did this afternoon. One of them squeaked by on the last try… after I noticed they were trying to shoot isocoles, but not locking their elbows out.

Maybe they’ll practice some more this year.