Earlier this afternoon I took a short golf cart drive to the local Barnes & Noble where I picked up a guidebook to Charleston and South Carolina. Diane and I plan to visit Charleston in the near future where we'll meet up with some old friends who are driving down from the D. C. area. It's been so long since I've spent any time in Charleston I really can't recall many details about the city. And so the guidebook was needed. Now, with my glossy, expensive, full-color book in hand, I can play the perfect tourist, rattling off little-known historical tidbits and recommending restaurants and other places to visit. I'm already a bit of a pain when it comes to this sort of thing because of my photography addiction. Now I'll be even worse and will likely drive our friends (and Diane) to distraction.
[A brief aside: The drive home from the bookstore almost turned into a mild (very mild) disaster since I hadn't charged up the golf cart batteries in a while and I could hear the electric motor running ever more slowly during the last mile or so. I rolled into our garage with maybe enough juice for another 100 yards. The idea of pushing a golf cart home is unappealing. Keep this in mind when you buy your all-electric car.]
And speaking of my photography addiction, I just fed it by ordering a new lens for my Canon Digital Rebel Xsi. For just wandering around in strange cities like Charleston I decided I could replace my other lenses with a single zoom lens, a Tamron 18-270mm zoom, a nice broad range from wide angle to telephoto. Now I won't have to lug an extra lens around, or go through the periodic and irritating (to Diane, anyway) changing of the lens ritual. The lens is also equipped with vibration compensation so my aging shaking hands won't lead to blurry photos. My new toy should arrive next week, so I'm happy.
The President, however, is probably very unhappy today...as are First Lady Michelle, Mayor Daley, and Chicago promoter Oprah. On the other hand, Lula, soccer great, Pele, and the folks in Rio de Janeiro are ecstatic. Brazil's president, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (or simply "Lula" to his friends and enemies), apparently was better able to convince the IOC that Rio was more deserving than the other cities competing for the 2016 Summer Games. I expected Rio to win since no city in South America had ever hosted the Olympic games, winter or summer. It just seemed the IOC would be far more likely to choose Rio, if only for that reason. And so I didn't understand why President Obama flew to Denmark and made that personal pitch to win the committee over -- seemed like a no-win situation to me. But I guess folks like President Obama and Oprah actually believe that they are such important people, celebrities of the celebrities, that their sheer star power would win the day. And do you think, maybe, a few of the president's friends and supporters might have come out waaaay ahead financially if Chicago got the Olympics? As it turned out Chicago didn't even come in second. The only real winners in Chicago today are the taxpayers. As for me, I just consider today's events as a kind of entertainment, something else to keep me amused as I watch another batch of self-important folks make fools of themselves.
Oh, and speaking of disappointed people, how about film director Roman Polanski and all his Hollywood friends? If the planets line up just right this man may actually be extradited to the US to face sentencing for statutory rape of a 13-year-old girl back in the 70s. Polanski took off before sentencing once he heard that he might have to serve some jail time for his crime. He's been living in Europe ever since. Now the Swiss have arrested him and all the beautiful people in Hollywood are simply aghast that this wonderful man is being persecuted for such an insignificant indiscretion, the sort of thing that could happen to anyone. Once again, I am entertained watching the self-important make fools of themselves. Click here to read an excellent column on this strange event ala Tinseltown.
Time to do more productive things. Blessings...
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