Bucket work

Here's a random tidbit. I'm not sure how many people are going to see this or care but it made me laugh.

I smile a lot. I tend to think its because I don't know what's going on, especially when working at the Bucket. So when a manager approached me and, unprompted, informed me my smile unnerves him (his exact words were "you've got a weird smile."), i let loose a laugh, partly because it struck me funny, partly because i didn't have anything else to say.

as anyone who has had the unfortunate luck to sit next to me during a funny movie can attest, my laugh is a cross between a foghorn and dog bark. aside from the very hard of hearing or very distant, few find it endearing.

but the look of utter repulsion on said manager's face upon hearing the laugh served only to get me going again, a little louder.

so the lesson today, kids, is the smile may be weird but wait till you get an earful of laughter. then you'll be asking for the smile.

Adventures in ski country

Went ziplining last Friday. I've never been and it seemed like a good idea. Dragged Kristine into the mix, because honestly who else would humor that kind of nonsense.

Zip lining (zipping?) aside, we stopped for some frozen deliciousness. No, the trash cans are not oversized ice cream cones to get your picture taken in. Go figure.

Oh were you aware that there is such a place as Pleasantville? No, really, it is North Conway. We drove by a little open park with a working water fountain and families frolicking about, mom-and-pop stores lining a two way mainstreet with clean sidewalks, not a graffited wall in sight. Dumbstruck, seriously, there were no words for at least half a minute. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop because no way, no way, does a place like that really exist.

Driving around, seeing (lots and lots of) mountains and greens, made the voyage damn good fun.

Let's go fishing

This might’ve been a bad idea. That’s all I could think waiting to shove off at the seemingly un-godly hour of 8:00 a.m.

I’m not a fisher. I’ve never fished a day in my life. The closest I’ve even come to fishing is repeated viewings of “A Perfect Storm.” Which, needless to say, isn’t exactly a promotional add for fishing.

But there I was, leaning against a balcony on “Starfish,” listening to the engine rumble to life. At five past eight, the boat starts to reverse. Too late to abandon ship now.

After crawling along the pier and underneath the Hampton bridge, the sway becomes a rock as the ship hits open water. After ten minutes, the engine hits another gear and the little wakes in front of the boat flirt with banister territory.

This is fun. The boat rocks like a ride, the wind tussles with my already wayward bangs, salt water peppers my cheeks. I wonder why I’m the only one along the outside enjoying this adventure. Then a wake splashes onto my head, soaking my face and dripping into my sweatshirt. Oh. Now I know.


At 8:30, the shoreline is a distant memory and my glasses are in dire need of a dry cloth. Or a mop. But it’s too fun to retreat inside the cabin. I’m grateful for the noise, my excited cackles could clear out the harbor alone.

Quarter till nine, the ship starts to slow. We’re no longer headed straight but begin a slow turn, kind of like a dog does before settling down.

I mop off my glasses as a crew member walks by. “A little wet, huh?” he said. Yeah, I’d say so. But so worth the frizz later.

By nine o’clock I am outfitted with a rod, complete with weight and two baited hooks, dropped all 185 feet. No problems so far. When I look up, my helpful crew guy is gone and suddenly I’m alone on the deck. (The rod is called Shakespeare. Somewhere, a literature professor laughs.) No sweat. I’ll be pulling up dinner in now time.

Ten minutes go by and I can head the excited yells from fellow fishers. They’re pulling up cod on the other side. The only tug I get is from the boat rock.

A crew guy walks by and tells me I should rebait the line after ten minutes. The bait – chopped up bits of fish – lose their smell after ten minutes. (Note: hands used to bait take a little longer to lose their smell. two thorough washings seem to work though.)

The trickiest part of rebaiting the line doesn’t even involve bait. It’s reeling in the line. Apparently pulling in 185 feet of line takes some time.

I can do bait this myself. I’m an adult, an independent adult. And the crew guy said he’d only bait it the first time. So I dig into a bucket of bait and feel around for something to lodge onto the hooks. I can’t express my gratitude I’m not dealing with worms. At least this bait stays still.

Two shrimps on the line, I get ready to cast away. Looking out at the wide open water, I can just imagine the multitudes of fish I’m going to bring back.

Plop, plop. Both globs of bait fall to the deck. Crap.

A squishy half minute later, the rod is back down, this time at 200 feet. At about nine miles out to sea, the only sound is the occasional seagull and other fishers. The boat rocks gently back and forth, soothingly. Suddenly I’m not even worried about pulling in fish.

Just before ten, the crew flicks on a radio. Cher starts to belt it out for the lonely, but no bites. Maybe the cod are more rock fans?

At 10:30, I decided to take a break and wander the deck. The Monahan crew from Illinois and Colorado are ready and rarin’ to catch anything. Even a teeny, tiny bout with sea sickness isn’t enough to keep this quartet down. further along, a Wolfboro native anxiously awaits for her dinner to come biting. “I’m doing this for survival,” she said. “This is better than grocery shopping!”

I cave and take a seat at a booth inside. The rocking starts and stops, and my stomach begins to mimic it. Iwillnotgetsick. Iwillnotgetsick.

At 10:45, I’m in the right spot to see someone pull in a dog fish. I’m excited, first time I’ve ever seen a shark (albeit, a small, mostly harmless shark) up close and personal. The hook went through his eye so untangling proves a little difficult. But eventually he’s freed and tossed back at sea. I find out later catching one is a jinx for fishing boats. It was still pretty cool though.



At eleven, we pull out the rods and head toward the coast. We’re going fishing for mackerel! Turns out the Starfish is the boat to be on when fishing for these little buggers. Crew member Chris Graham defended Starfish’s trophy when he won an overtime, sudden death final for the bragging rights.

Fishing for mackerel is different than the wait and see game of deep sea fishing. You don’t need bait for mackerel, which I found out after I baited. Charming. And instead of holding the rod steady, you jerk the rod back and forth. Mackerel are drawn to the shiny, moving hook. Sounds like some people I know.

With little more than the necessary goading, Chris grabs a rod and preps for a repeat performance. But its Tom that hauls in the most. He’s pulling up so many, he dumps one on the deck before putting it in another fisherman’s cooler. Someone will be stocked up on mackerel for a while. The mackerel on deck around for a while and that just can’t be good. I go to grab him then chick out. That’s right, I chicked out. Squealed like a teenager at a Jo-Bro poster and recoiled. So not cool. Tom laughed and heaved the oily little bugger into the cooler. Show off.

The Wolfboro crew were content to catch and release. With Chris nearby, the release part was easy. Grab the hook attached to oily bugger, flick said hook, and goodbye bugger. Easy, peasy, right? No,

One of the Wolfboro crew was game to let me release a mackerel. Grabbed hook (only one squeal), flicked, and . . . he’s still there. A few more muscled flicks later, he was free. Unfortunately so was the hook. Whoops.



A few more minutes of fun with mackerel, captain calls it a day. The anchor gets pulled up one more time and we head in. I am fishless. At least the physical one. I’m pretty sure I reek of the stuff.

We start a decidedly smoother ride back to the bridge and pier. The boat sloshes against the wakes, smaller this time. Leaning against the banister, I watch the coast creep into view.

I’m not a descendant of fishermen, at least not in the immediate. My dad gets painfully seasick to the point he pops Dramamine at the mention of boats and mom doesn’t like the dead, ready to eat fish variety, let alone the live, flopping kind. I haven’t fallen too far from the tree. The sea wind shellacked my hair into a mess, water from the deck soaked my pants to the knee, and leftover mackerel love peppered my hands. I don’t think I’m cut out for the fisherman’s life.

But there was something indescribably peaceful about standing on the boat, listening to the waves smack the side, and feeling the salty ocean air whip around that could easily entice me to give fishing another go.

Calling this one: Why I'm doubting semester honors

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn
makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our
equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt

So i researched blogs. i wanted to look into the strengths and weaknesses of blogs. specifically from the standpoint of a blogger.

some nitty-gritty details

• blogs began to grow around 1999, thanks to some user friendly programs like livejournal and blogger
• currently there are 1.5 million plus blogs online. that's a lot of posts, man.
• its not uncommon to see business blogs, entertainers blogs, and political blogs to name a few. it's not all what-coco-the-dog-did-today out there

here are some of the advantages i found

• informal tone - one blogger said she can communicate with costumers in a way she can't with a newsletter or personal email
• blogs are simaltanously one-to-one and one-to-mass. another blogger said he can address questions on a personal basis while documenting the answer publically for further reference
• the flexibility of the medium. unlike newspaper which is bound by print, tv which is bound by images, or coffeehouses which are bound by the space, blogs can be visual with pictures and videos, straight text while reaching across great distances.

i like lists. let's get another

• in 2002, Senator Trent Lott resigned after several blogs got heavy traffic thanks to his foot-in-mouth racist comment.
• Dan Rathers got similar treatment after some investigative bloggers found out documents used on 60 Minutes II were fakes
• Tamill community members have been protesting outside of the US embassy in Toronto for nearly two weeks. Much of the organization was done through blogs. Along the same lines, the protesters are getting online support.

"That's all fine and good meg, but what about the teenager who posts all her emo crap? you can't tell me that adds to anything."

in fact i cannot.

but i can say this. a few of the bloggers noted that the process of writing for a blog helps them think - collect thoughts, best ways to say things, how can i enhance presentation, all that jazz. plus most of the bloggers were quick to note the surplus of blogs. one aptly put it that sometimes "reading blogs can be like driving down the highway and looking at billboards – none really stand out, and the next day its difficult to remember what you saw."

but there is potential. any writer will tell you practice makes perfect. so if 14 year old needs to vent about her awful math teacher, let her. you don't know, she may write the next great american ... novel? podcast? i dunno.

the point is even if the only other person who sees the blog is someone digging through google, there are still benefits to blogging.

here endth the lesson.

Oh! new toy

Visiting journalist Steve Damish of The Enterprise gave the newsroom a new camera, which we promptly put to use.

There's some bad language at the end.  Sorry.

San Diego reflections

I was fortunate to attend the Associated Collegiate Press National College Journalism Convention conference and here's what I've learned.

1. there are a lot of other college aged and not college aged journalists worried about the future of the industry we've just spent at least one academic year working toward. nothing calms quicker than realizing you are not alone.

2.   old dogs can learn new tricks. and they are learning them fast.  of the sessions on multimedia i attended, the professional journalists were not young kids fresh out of college.  rather, they were seasoned veterans weathering the shift from print to online newspapers. i thought this spoke highly of how important it is, in journalism to learn on your feet.  i doubt these guys had to consider the ins and outs of Final Cut when the first started but they do now and they can speak with clear confidence on the issue. i hope to be that confident twenty years from now when discussing the latest technological development

3. a good website takes work. we've inherited a less than pretty website at TNH but we're looking to change that.  so when i sat in the website critique, pen in hand, i hoped for a page, maybe two of tips for improvement.  I walked out with six, count 'em, six pages of do's and don't's on the art of online. its like looking at a river, saying 'oh, that's not to bad. betcha i can get across in a few minutes.' then you jump in and suddenly you're fighting the Mississippi.  but looking at number 2 from above, we're getting through.  i now know more about html code than i did after a semester of studying it.  hmm

4. WE HAVE A FUTURE!  one of the best keynote speakers, Andrew Donahue of the local Voicesofsandiego.org made it very clear that a free press is an important and appreciated niche in society. it is just a matter of adapting, be it mastering twitter where a front page tease when a front page tease would have sufficed or using pictures where words would have dominated years ago.  

"This is a tremendous era of efficiency and innovation," Donahue said. "And we need to be original." 

We need to be think outside the box today to ensure the continuation of good journalism tomorrow.  c'mon doesn't that give ya goosebumps?

Sunshine to Snowfalls

I was wrong. Didn't have access to the Internet.

San Diego was amazing. Beautiful weather, nice people, clean city. All good stuff. The flight back east was tough. We snuck in before the snow hit. The captain said we were actually early which was nice. Or not depending on how much you avoided doing work this weekend.

Speaking of that, there's a boat load of work I should be doing ...