Actually.... TerminalHotness.com

I'm hyping this all over hell and back, and I'm getting a bit of a mental blind spot, so if it sounds like there's something missing in my explanation, just go to the site and check it out. 

This past weekend, a confluence of events created something worthwhile and important:

• A photo of a hot redhead sent from a friend
• A discussion in which it was revealed she has serious medical issues
• The realization of just how many of my friends are in the same boat
• A significant amount of wine
• Ownership of a web-hosting company
• The ability to create web-sites on a whim

Hey...  some people get drunk and create babies... I get drunk and create websites. 

This one looks like it just might grow up and be something important.

I'm a photographer.  I know lots of other photographers and models.   As I said, I've been hyping this where ever I can... and it's picking up some steam.  Whether it's enough to sustain itself or not, I don't know.  I can only hope.

Go to the site.  Read the info.

If you know of anyone who might qualify and be interested, let them know.  If they need a photographer, point them in my direction:   I know photographers all over the world who would be more than happy to donate their services to the project.

Go!  Look!  Read!  Spread the word!

Shoo!

Yep.   Still alive.

Not much new.  I'm living the same old life I have been.  Money is tight, the house needs lots of work, and I'm still a hermit.

I got the last of the garden planted this afternoon.  I have a little space available if I decide I want something else (maybe some bell peppers), but it's essentially done.  The radishes are already sprouting.  Oh... and if anyone needs/wants chives, just let me know.  They're expanding all over the place.

As some of you know, I've added a new phone line.  I bought a Droid Incredible and put it on a new line.  This way I can try to separate my business stuff from my personal stuff.  Besides... I feel completely comfortable taking my G'Zone phone out with me when I'm on the lake or climbing rocks; I get mildly paranoid putting my Droid in my pocket when I go to work.

Hmm.... Since I've posted here last, I've created a new website for my photography:  Studio 142. If you (or someone you know) is looking for some atypical portraits, send them my way.

And... that's pretty much the extent of the excitement in my life.

A sport I actually like? Wow!

Yesterday I went to a sporting event.  By choice.  And I loved it!

A few weeks ago, I had the good fortune to do a photoshoot with a world-class athlete named Shana Martin.  She's a lumberjack ("lumberjill", I'm learning, is the correct term).  A mutual friend told me that Shana was going to be competing in a "log-rolling thingy" this weekend, and suggested I come watch.   So... I grabbed my camera and headed out to Madison to see what it was all about.

A couple of things:

1. When KJ said that Shana was competing in the event, she failed to mention that Shana was running the event!
2. The event wasn't just a competition, it was a fund-raiser for the Hunting Disease Society of America
3. I hate sports (except boxing in the lower weight classes).
4. It was a hot day (contrary to what the weatherman predicted) and I forgot my sunscreen.

When I arrived, the student divisions were competing.  10-year old boys and girls rolling huge logs with speed and precision.  I don't think I could last 10 seconds on the log all by myself, and these kids were lasting for several minutes with a competitor actively trying to make them fall off.

Later on, the pros arrived.  The little kids were impressive enough... but the pros?  Wow!

I walked into this whole thing knowing absolutely nothing about the sport.  I basically went to see a friend compete and get some photos for her to use in promoting her classes and her charity cause.   I knew nothing about the rules--but I didn't need to.  It's really quite simple:  Stay on the log; make the other person fall off the log.  There are some rules about time that I haven't quite figured out (but they looked to be quite simple and straight forward), and it look like the longer the match goes on, the smaller (and "faster") the logs get.  But that's about it.

Log-rolling is a very elegant sport.  It's about strength, skill, precision, and timing.  It's fast-paced and exciting.  It's not bogged down with rules, procedures, statistics, loopholes, and arbitrary complexity.  It sounds really strange to hear myself say this, but... I think I'll be attending some sporting events this summer--only next time I'll remember to bring my sun-screen so I can stay long enough to watch the boom run competition.

I just read a post on a friend's business blog that, combined with the week-from-hell I just finished, sparked a thought.

A person's worth is often determined by what they do. Matt (mentioned above) is a world-renouned fiction writer (Don't deny it, Matt. They know about you in Europe, and I'm sure they have repeatedly nouned you.) Another friend owns a successful tech company which has major international clients, others are going for their masters degrees (or PhDs) while almost half my age.

What do I do? I help sell boats.

Doesn't sound all that impressive.

Let's put it into perspective, though. My degree is in technical theatre--designing and implementing lighting and scenery for live performances. My current job title is "Creative Director".

I design and implement all of the advertising for a company with millions of dollars in annual sales. I determine the marketing plan--both short-term and long-term--create the graphics, write the scripts for TV and Radio, and do the voice talent. I take the photos used in our advertising. I develop non-traditional marketing strategies to complement our standard advertising.

For the boat show that's going on this weekend, I built a lighted sign. With the exception of the company logos, every bit of it was my creation. I took the photos, did the layout, designed the physical structure, built and assembled it. During the load-in, 2 different vendors came up and specifically stated how much they liked the sign--that it was creative, impressive, and nicely functional.

I've had national marketing consultants compliment my work without knowing that I was the one who created it.

What I do is small-scale. I know that. I'm not going to change anyone's life with my latest advertisement for pontoon boats. But what I do, I do well. While many people determine a person's worth by their fame and fortune, that's never been a measure for me.

I have a dream of doing something more--something specific--but it's been pulled out of reach for several years now. I may have another chance or two to finally grab it, but even if I don't, I know that I'm doing well at what I do. My value is determined by how much my friends like me and my enemies hate me.

So far, I seem to be doing rather well in both categories.

Joseph J Miskulin died early Thursday morning at the age of 86.

In his life, he was a biker, a soldier, a craftsman, an outdoorsman, and a leader. To the very last moment, he lived his life with strength and dignity, inspiring those who knew him through his actions and convictions.

For those who knew him, no words are required to honor his memory. For those who did not, no words could define the expanse of his soul.

He died quietly in his home, surrounded by his family.

I loved you, but had to leave. I found you again but you wouldn't accept my friendship.

Good bye.

I loved you but knew that you had to leave me to become what you could be. Your attempt at reconnecting scared you away.

Good bye.

I love you, but you only understand sex and I wouldn't fuck you.

Good bye.

I love you, but you're afraid of the world and need to run away.

Good bye.

There are enough real dragons in my life, I don't need any windmills.

Yes. I'm alive.
No. I haven't been posting--at least not here.

I've been busy with all the other projects I have going, and there hasn't been a whole lot to write about. My political writings are going on in other forums and blogs. My personal life amounts to little more than going to work and coming home to work on projects, so there's not much to talk about there.

I had a little time this weekend, so I did some maintenance to this site. My gallery hasn't worked for almost 2 years. So. I fixed it (Are you happy now, Heidi?). Well.. I sorta fixed it. Actually... I didn't fix it at all. What I did was install a whole new gallery and transfered the photos over to it. The existing one will vanish shortly (if it's not gone already when you read this).

This is my new gallery

There's even some new photos in there. I've uploaded the photos from my trip to the Dominican Republic over New Years. There's even a whole album from my SCUBA dive.

2 months ago I started a new project: JoeMiskulin.com

I've posted a couple "coming soon" messages but haven't had anything solid to show--until now.

I spent today prparing, uploading, and labeling the first batch of photos. About 130 photos are uploaded, and about 80 of them have been labeled. About half-way through I realized that my organization plan wasn't going to work, so I'm going to have to create new albums and rearrange stuff, but that's not a big deal.

"Preparing means taking a scan that has 8-10 photos on it, cutting and pasting each photo into its own file, rotating (if need be), adjusting brightness and contrast, saving, and then batch resizing.

"Labeling" involves finding the physical photo (in a stack of about 300) that matches the uploaded scan and typing in what's written on the back.

These images represent about one-third of the photos I have. And then there's the video. It's going to be a big project, but I think it's worth it.

About a month and a half ago I posted a CEPT (request for prayers) for a friend. At the time I wasn't at liberty to talk about the circumstances.

For those of you who care, I can do so now.

Sometime in August my father started to have trouble walking. He attributed it to a pulled groin muscle. After several weeks, it failed to get better--in fact, it got worse. In mid-October, he was unable to stand and was taken to the hospital. The discovered that he had actually broken his hip. He had a hip replacement and started to get better right away (the day after the surgery he pissed off the medical staff by refusing to lay around like an invalid--he got up and walked around).

In mid-November, however, something else was discovered based on tests of the replaced hip.

My father has cancer. It's considered to be terminal. It's in his hip and in his lungs. As of the time of diagnosis, the doctors have given him 6 months to live. Now... in all fairness to reality, given my father's health and disposition--he's a stubborn old man with the constitution of an ox--it's more likely that he'll live another 10 years. It does, however, bring the concepts of life and death very real.

I've had a lot of time to come to terms with the situation, and my personal views on life and death mean that I'm better able to deal with the consequences. Still, it's my father. It will never be easy.

I'm not asking for sympathy or help or anything other than understanding. I just felt that those of you who read this are entitled to an explanation for the previous post.

On September 11th, my father celebrated his 85th birthday.

A few days before that he pulled a groin muscle (he thinks) and was in some bit of pain. Over the last month and a half that pain got worse, not better. This past Thursday, he was taken to the hospital because he couldn't walk. They discovered that he had broken his hip--the ball had come off his femur. On Friday afternoon he had surgery to replace the ball with an artificial one.

On Saturday he was up and walking--much to the amazement of the doctors.

It's obvious that he's in pain at times, and he's certainly not going to be running any marathons anytime soon, but he's getting around the house under his own power, using a walker. For your average 85-year-old, a broken hip would mean moving to a nursing home. Or a rapid decline in health and death.

My dad? He sent his rifle off with a friend of his to get sited in so that he can go deer hunting next month. 85 years old, has been walking on a broken hip for anywhere from a day to 10 weeks, and he's planning on going deer hunting next month.

The only thing I can say is.... I hope he gets one for me, too. I'm out of tenderloins.

Yep. That's my dad.