The Ole Master Plan

MLB, part 2: The Dance of Joy

Total classic.  How about this.... anytime you or I reach a great goal, or we have something to really shout about, I'll repost this most wonderful happy dance.  If the time comes when goals are dropping in our laps like lemons from our backyard tree in Ahwatukee, then we'll limit the post to a Friday celebration.

But hey, it's Friday, and I'm starting to figure this whole blog thing out.  Sorta... Maybe... Hit it!

 

Chihuli Among the Cactus

Even a point-n-shoot can't go wrong when pointed at a Chihuli glass masterpiece.

Place:  Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix, Arizona.  

Time:  Spring 2009, middle afternoon, sadly.  

It was about 105 degrees and bright, bright sun.  Not ideal lighting, but the evening showing was sold out.  Even so, isn't it amazing?  The glass, not my photography...  

Can glass sweat?  Humans do.

This is hanging in my dining room.

So stinking clever.  I had to get a closeup of the gorgeous green, shown below.

 

If only the ice were real.  My ice cream lasted about three minutes before melting everywhere.  Ahem... you'll notice dieting is not a category on this blog.  

 

Classic Chihuli.

 

Fun with thirds.  The one photography class I took, about seven years ago, emphasized not putting the subject right in the center, unless it occupied most of the frame.  This shot makes me laugh.

-- Girl Parker

MLB, where are you?

Mark Linn-Baker.  

Not Major League Baseball, though I'll take a just a quick mo' to say, San Francisco Giants, I love you, as did my grandma, and congrats!!....  but that's another time and another blog.

Mark Linn-Baker.  Star of the 80s sitcom, "Perfect Strangers."  He was the genius behind the neurotic character, Larry Appleton, wannabe photojournalist, wannabe jock, wannabe top dog of anything at all...  

In season one, he sells his first photo to the newspaper, only to have the editors change their mind.  This blog is named for his ensuing meltdown.  "A Master Plan is a schedule of how I want to achieve things in life," he says.  Cousin Balki says, "Oh, at 24, you supposed to sell a picture?"  

Larry sighs.   "At 24, I was supposed to win a pulitzer prize.  At 16, I was supposed to sell my first photograph...  Thank god no one knows it's my birthday... That's the last thing I need, a room full of people saying, 'How's it going, Larry?  Whatever happened to the Ole Master Plan?"  

I've been quoting this line ForEver... well, since 1986.  

Back then, as a teenager, it was just funny.  As an adult, it's a bit more truthful.  Whatta we think?  Can I write for 30 minutes/day?