Welcome to the Rat Pack

... at age 3.

Working for a Living: Part Deux

Nobody should use a Huey Lewis song title twice and now I have. That just isn't right. Anyway... I'm posting again on this work theme trying to make up for being a slacker in September. Here's another post of stuff that I've been getting to play with at work.



The image above was used on a thank you card for customer presenters at our company's annual user conference. It's distinguished by being the first picture I took with a spiffy new SB-600 flash. This really is beginners luck because I had just opened the box from the UPS delivery about 15 minutes prior to taking the picture.

This is Sarah. She has assistant in her job title, but that really is contradictory. She is central to getting so much done that it goes well beyond anything resembling "assisting". In this case, she was a willing and able model. Little did she know that her picture would end up going to print. This image is part of an ad that is in final edit now.

Working for a Living

September was a quiet blog month. Kids, sleep and work all conspired to limit time to make photos. Except of course more of those cute kid pictures that I'm restraining myself from posting. Something I have been doing with photography is to take pictures for use in marketing at work. I realized this week that there are now several of these photos in circulation or pending submission for upcoming ad. Its nice to mix business with pleasure.

These photos are all customers we work with. The images have been used for ads in Behavioral Healthcare magazine and/or on trade show and mail marketing pieces. This is Janet. She had the patience of a saint while I noodled around getting this picture.



Jeff was a natural in front of a camera. Good work for an IT Director. He was also a patient man. In search of the perfect spot, we made him wander around the old Lawrence, MA mill building where his offices are located for probably longer than we should have. I think we were having too much fun.



This is Chuck from Kentucky. He's a great guy. I made his picture this week at our annual user conference and it should appear in an ad next month.

Yurt Time

Our yurt is now available for rent. Check this link to get more information and then come visit The Bennett Brook Yurt.



Our yurt is an amazing place. Jenny and I lived here from from September to November, 2004. We had sold our house in anticipation of building a new home on Hatfield family land. The yurt was our temporary housing until a friend's apartment was ready for us. It was daunting to think about the two of us, plus a dog and a cat, cramming into 20 feet of circular living space. And cold weather was coming. Living in the yurt was one of the best fall seasons of my life. Except for the midnight outhouse runs, I know Jenny would agree. Yurts are remarkably comfortable structures and have what only can be described as "good karma". It just makes you happy being there. If nothing else, I would recommend a bit of yurt life to anyone considering building a house. Yurt living really forces you to understand your priorities for space and things. It would definitely cause some folks to re-assess their McMansion ideals.

By Popular Demand

I've told myself this blog wouldn't be about photos of the kids, but a quick look at the Boy's Life labels and you'll see eight posts. It's a force that just can't be controlled. If you have kids... and I mean cute kids like mine... you just can't help but taking pictures of them and passing them off as art. And of course everyone says, "I looked at your blog. Where are the new pictures of your boys?" So... here you go.

FOHW

Thats Freedom Old Home Week for the uninitiated masses. More classic Americana from a small town in New Hampshire.

Profit motive at Freedom Old Home Week.


Brisk traffic in the cool, refreshing drink and chocolate chip cookie business


On a bike like this, this guy is getting all the girls.

Flying the Flag and Expressing an Opinion

During my adopted hometown's yearly Old Home Week celebration, nearly every home owner in the village lines the road by placing small American flags along the edge of their lawn. A classic New England village named Freedom (no kidding) decked out in red, white and blue and the scene could be viewed as quaint to a fault. The Old Home Week parade passes, veterans march, bands play, flags wave and fire truck sirens wail.

Blind nationalism always sort of rubs me the wrong way. When I hear the Lee Greenwood song "God Bless the USA" I find myself tuning in to my French Canadian roots and beating down an impulse to belt out "O' Canada". And while Toby Keith writes catchy tunes, I disagree with him that "putting a boot in their ass" is the American way. As the Olympics heat up this week, I know at least once or twice the USA chest thumping will get too loud and I'll change the channel. I'm not anti-my country. I guess I just don't see strength and wisdom in arbitrary bravado.

But, I'm annually surprised when I don't feel cynicism for the flourish in my little village. Instead, I feel pride for a small town coming together and carrying on a tradition with generational roots. I love seeing my son's reaction as we walk through town and take it all in. I involuntarily find myself humming John Cougar's song "Aint That America". On our way back home, we walk by my favorite row of flags at the Rhymer's house. What is more American than expressing an opinion. Even when it means you are slightly different from the rest of the crowd.