Portrait Bloopers

So Crumby is fixing to take a portrait of some of his friends. This is to prove that Crumby’s best friends aren’t imaginary. But the portrait needs to be indoors on a cloudy day. Mercy! Also, the camera and the little friends need to all be seated in Crumby’s trusty business chair. That’s a tight working distance. But not for Crumby’s newly arrived, yet previously used, 10-22 ultra wide.

OK. This is ISO 1000, white balance- tungsten, f9, 1/5. It is also cropped on the bottom to remove the hood shadow.

A big problem is that Blodeuwyeth’s right leg fell off during the session. Not to worry though, due to her vegetable content, Blodeuwyeth feels less pain than average or normal regular people. And at this very nonce, that leg is fixing to get glued back in. For heavens sake!

Crumby almost sent this lens back to its previous owner. And Crumby is still of two mind’s about the sharpness. But Crumby has no other wide angles available for comparison and what he does have available is very tough competition. Maybe unfair competition.

The colors are not bad, although the green wall on the right is fairly troubling. All Crumby's cameras have trouble with greens indoors.

Waiting on a Paycheck

Crumby has a job but Crumby has not been paid yet. So naturally, given Crumby's low estimate of human kind, Crumby figures his employers are fixing to rip him off. That's right. Crumby believes he will not get paid even for all the expenses he has laid out or piled up, much less wages due. Mercy!

Crumby's situation is analogous to the many, bold, yet semi-self-sufficient goat ranchers awaiting the arrival of the Mohair subsidy check. Those goat ranchers came to despise the hand that fed them because those goat ranchers could imagine what would happen if the subsidy check was late, or Hep me Jesus!, didn't arrive at all. Or actually, Crumby's situation is analogous to that of any wage or salary slave eagerly yet nervously checking the mail. Will it come today? Please, please, please!

Anon, if the blessed WG smiles brightly on Her most loyal and affectionate of Ovates, Crumby shall receive a Social Security check. But apparently, thanks to the Mammonites, that happy event needs to predate the bankruptcy of the Social Security System . Mercy! If Crumby does not get his Social Security, after fifty years of paying in, he shall need to take some bloody revenge on the Mammonites.

Back from the Frozen Hinterlands

Crumby is back, temporarily maybe, from wage slavery on the Rolling Plains. Yes. Crumby has merged into a long, historical line of comrades or pack mules that plodded across those dusty parts. Yes sir. We all plodded along bearing great burdens. Sometimes the mass of the burdens approached or maybe equaled the mass of the bearer. Sometimes, according to mythology, all an average person could espy of an average sized mule was the pack on its back. Mercy! But everywhere else, an average observer might espy even a tiny shrew zipping through the short grass. But not according to the mythology we are now discussing.

Remember how the Republican Mammonites created the myth that these parts were once entirely a prairie. Oh yes. All this was once a prairie. The grass was so tall a horse normally disappeared from view due to the great height of the grass.

Well. Maybe down in the creeks, amid the switchgrass and sand bluestem, the dang horse's legs might disappear. But no way the whole horse would disappear. Unless the horse was one of those midget ponys. Jeez Louise! Crumby espied some very tiny midget ponys. Those midget ponys would be entirely invisible in the switchgrass.

For Goodness Sakes! Even Karl the Tracker Druid would have trouble rounding up stray midget ponys in the switchgrass. What a job that would be? See. Even if your job sucks, you can usually imagine a worse job.

It took Crumby a minute or two to figure out Andropogon gerardii var. hallii, or, Andropogon hallii as some would have it. Sand bluestem does look way different than the regular big bluestem. Reckon it sets seed?

Crumby aint sure about the sunflower that's everywhere though. Hard to believe such a weed could be native. But it may be Helianthus petioloaris. Ah-ha! There's nothing quite like botany in virgin parts in the dead of winter. Huh-huh.

Worn to a Frazzle

Crumby has been gone all week. He has been out in the terrible wilderness in the freezing cold. He has borne a terrible, heavy burden. Jeez Louise!

Plus Crumby espied the first shrew he has ever seen in real life. The poor little thing must have got caught out in the merciless cold and froze. Yes. There wasn't a mark on that particular dead shrew.

If Crumby could have revived that shrew, he might have brought it home to be a pet. Then probably one of the other pets might have eaten it. So that shrew may have been faced with a Druid Dichotomy, freeze to death or make a meal.

Dang it. Crumby stupidly forgot to take a picture of that shrew. From now on though, as Crumby mule packs across the frozen wasteland that some call the Rolling Plains, he shall surely take pictures of any more dead or living shrews he encounters.

Salary Slavery

Most of us, except for the truly ignorant, have heard tell of wage slavery. But what about salary slavery? Correct! Few have heard tell of salary slavery. Yet salary slavery sounds lots funnier than wage slavery. So funny, that unless you are yourself afflicted by salary slavery, it's hard to take seriously. Especially hard to take seriously when your main concern in life is purchasing new gadgets or play purties.

But Crumby believes or holds the opinion that salary slavery is a cruel condition. You may see, boys and girls, that if you get a salary, the bosses will be on you day and night, gang-raping the bejesus out of you. Yes. That sure does hurt. And they shall exploit you mercilessly until, once your grow old, feeble and used up, they shall turn you out, pensionless, a prey item for every avaricious dentist, doctor or mortician that comes along.

That's why, if you have a lick of sense, you go for a wage instead of a salary. Because wage slavery, though not as funny sounding as salary slavery, is otherwise a much better condition or lifestyle. Crumby advises too, go for the highest wage. The fact is, you shouldn't work for a low wage. Low wages are for immigrants. It's like, low wages are why we have immigrants. So if you are not an immigrant, you should get an outrageously high wage to mitigate for the slavery.

Sadly, the truth is, Crumby needs to pay for some expenses he has lately accrued. One of those expenses is featured in the previous entry on this venue. That means Crumby has chosen wage slavery as a way of life for as long as the job lasts. And Crumby requires a high wage, not only because Crumby is native born, but because Crumby shall may have to interact with heathen savages while on the job.

Typically, on any job, the first worker or heathen savage Crumby meets will feel the need to explain to Crumby how he was almost killed by peccaries, or more likely, one of his friends or relatives was almost killed by peccaries. The heathen savage needs to explain this to Crumby because Crumby is a NEPA biologist.

Actually, there are twain types of people on this tiny planet that many call Earth. In terms of religious preference, these twain are the Druids versus the heathen savages. And in terms of habitat preference these corrspond to the off and on pavement crowds. For example, a heathen savage is more likely to stay on the pavement than a Druid.

But getting back to peccaries. You know what they eat, don't you? Those peccaries are a good reason to always stay on the pavement.

Karl the Tracker Druid likes to talk to Ray about his on the job tracking adventures. Karl tells Ray. Ray tells Crumby. So one time Karl was hired to go find a lost water engineer named Mr. Joe. Seems like Mr. Joe the water engineer had gone off to verify that water runs down hill. But Mr. Joe couldn't find any water on pavement due to the droughty conditions in those parts at that time. So Mr. Joe boldly ventured where few water engineers dare to go, off pavement.

Mr. Joe was only off pavement a little ways when the peccaries got him. It was, according to Karl, like the peccaries had just been waiting for Mr. Joe to step off the pavement.

Well. Karl espied from a distance that the peccaries had got Mr. Joe down. Unfortunately, the distance was a far piece so it took Prissy, Karls's smart saddle mare, a while to cover all the broken ground separating Prissy and Karl from Mr. Joe. Yes. It took Prissy and Karl a couple of minute's to reach Joe. And that couple of minutes was all the time those dern peccaries needed to make off with Joe's pecker.

Ugh! Karl had to cauterize Mr. Joe right there on the spot. Otherwise, Mr. Joe would have bled to death.

Now where's Ajax? Prissy, go find Ajax. Mr. Joe! Do you think you can ride a mule, Mr. Joe?

.

Look What Crumby Ga-ot!

Look What Crumby Ga-ot!
Look What Crumby Ga-ot!
Look What Crumby Ga-ot!
Look What Crumby Ga-ot!

Nyaahh-nyaahh-nyaahh, nyaahh-nyaahh-nyaahh
Nyaahh-nyaahh-nyaahh, nyaahh-nyaahh-nyaahh.

Correct. It’s a Canon 400mm F5.6. Goodness!

With this lens, Crumby can easily take pictures of tiny dickie birds on cloudy days. Plus, this lens, though fairly old, is practically brand new. It came with all the normal accouterments too, also practically brand new. This represents Crumby’s finest EBAY hour! Gracious sakes alive!!!!

Which is better for the Homeland, terminal consumerism or patriotism? Is there a difference?

Back to Work, Swish Crack

Swish Crack is supposed to be the noise a whip makes when an average mule skinner employs a whip on the luckless slave mules. Mercy! Crumby's situation is fixing to be just like that of a slave mule. Yes. Crumby is fixing to gee or haw with the best of them. Well. Maybe not the best of them. Maybe more like an average one. Always remember, no matter what, the average or balanced way is the Druid Way.

Yes. Anon, Crumby shall be part of a team, pulling for the common good. But pulling as part of a team under the crack of a whip, though maybe accurate, is not the metaphor Crumby espies for himself. No. Crumby sees himself more as a solitary yet noble pack mule burdened with the greatest pack an average mule could bear.

Like one time Karl the Tracker Druid entered his pet mule, Ajax, into this contest. The point of the contest was to see which mule could bear a great pack over a standard distance the quickest. If Ajax could have won, Karl would have received a year's supply of Brown's Mule plug tobacco. Why is the mule depicted on the Brown's Mule wrapper always red? Only the wise know the answer to that question.

But the mules all got together just prior to the contest and made an agreement. And the agreement made by all the mules was, We shall all tie. So that's what those mules did, tie. They all toted their packs over the course at precisely the same time finishing up in unison.

Everybody was astonished that the mules could carry off such a complex maneuver. But then the various mule packers, which is the silly name pack mule men or ladies call themselves, mule packers, cried out. Whut about the Brown Mule?

What the mule packers meant by their cry was, Who gets the prize? Interestingly, nobody ever called Brown's Mule, Brown's Mule. No. Instead it was always, Brown Mule.

Well obviously, no one mule packer was fixing to get a year's supply based on the performance of the various mules during the bygone contest. But the tobacco magnate that was there officiating still had an industrial sized wheel barrow plumb full of Brown Mule. Everybody there could espy the wheel barrow with all that year's supply of Brown Mule neatly stacked within the capacious wheel barrow interior. Everybody was salivating fer a chaw.

OK. We can do this one of twain ways, the tobacco magnate pontificated. And I am good with either path or way we shall take. First, we could feature a new contest. Y'all could try to guess how many Brown Mule are in the wheel barrow. Second, we could evenly divvy up the Brown Mule among all the mule packers.

Which of the twain options set out before them do the mule packers choose? Only the wise know.

As they all rode home together, Karl astride his smart saddle horse, Prissy, with Ajax bringing up the rear, Karl queried. How's your strap Ajax? Not too tight?

Crumby's Newest Obsession

They say that changing systems is hard to do.
And Crumby knows, he knows that it's true.
Don't say I can't buy that lens. If you don't let me buy that lens I'll never be your friend again.

I beg of you, to understand. To understand as best you can. A camera needs a lens or two and changing over's hard to do.
_____


Crumby! You need to go stay in Cuba with your communist buddies. Because, you are driving us all nuts.

OK. But y'all will have to pay for my airplane tickets. Then too, the communists shall have to support me until I get all these camera issues sorted out. They may not support me Rayetta. They might, make me work. You know what the communists say, Rayetta? Work or starve! If I have to work, never mind starve, I may not get all this sorted out, ever.

OK Crumby. Given all that, you may stay here. But you must abide in your laboratory all the time except for when you eat or perform ablutions. Also, when you eat or perform ablutions you may only talk to yourself. Matter of fact, to alert everyone that conversation with Crumby is unnecessary, and no one needs to holler out, You talkin' to me?, in response to your incessant camera rantings, we shall hang a sign on you that reads, My comments are always rhetorical. Only under those circumstances shall you be allowed to remain at the CB.

Oh yeah! Praise the Goddess! I get to stay. The thing is, though nobody may believe it, I am fixing to actually do some consulting work. If I can behave myself all the way through the upcoming job I will get plenty of money. Lots of money. So I need to get the camera gear situation sorted out before I head out on this new money-making quest. Mercy!

OK. What Crumby has temporarily decided is that he shall hang on to some of the Olympus stuff for like work and gradually replace it with Canon stuff. I mean, the Olympus stuff works swell under super novas or with flash. And Crumby already has an Olympus flash.

Huh huh. If Crumby was fixing to go visit the interior of a globular cluster he would want his Olympus. Olys should work swell inside globulars.

So what this means is, Crumby may take a while switching to Canon entirely. But Crumby has already switched on the long end. Yes. Crumby's first Canon lens purchase was the incredibly versatile EF 400mm F 5.6 prime. Did I say versatile? Watch out Crumby! Yer fixin' to back off yonder cliff!

And that's it so far. Crumby has just that one lens, scheduled to arrive anon. And it cost a pretty penney or red cent. But that lens is one of the main reasons Crumby desired a little change in the first place.

Next up is a wide. Maybe not the Sigma 8-16. Maybe a cheaper one. Then, for a while, the Olympus gear shall need to fill in between ultra wide and 400mm. Heck! Crumby woudn't even need any of those mms if not for macro.