Wednesday, January 14, 2009


We went to see Slumdog Millionaire last week in Asheville. That was a freakin' huge serving of humble pie.

I try not to complain but sometimes throw myself a little pity party. You know, poor me, we're not sailing yet. On the other hand, I've never seen my mother being murdered by a mob, lived in a dump (literally) nor watched a child's eye being scooped out by a spoon. Self pity. Gone.

It made me question my resolve just a wee bit too.

There's a scene in the movie where the main character as a child is locked in an elevated outhouse. His hero, a movie actor, flies overhead in a chopper and lands nearby. The kid is so committed to seeing his hero that he opts for the only path to that goal: he jumps in the cesspool.

Would I do that?

I took the camera to the beach today to prove I know nothing about photography. That went quite well. That photo of the feather was taken by the camera. All I did was press the button.

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