My GPS Camera Phone

About the only time I can get remotely close to these feral cats in the neighborhood is when they’re sunning themselves on a cold morning. Even then, this guy ran away right after the photo was taken.

If you’re wondering about the tree behind the cat, that would be the enormous oak in my neighbor’s yard. It’s massive and provides plenty of shade for parking. Never a day with a hot car!

About a month ago, I found these flowers along the fence at my kids’ school. The interesting thing about them is that they were the only things blooming – everything else had already bloomed, including some flowers just like them. They’re long gone now.

In other news, I’ll be reviewing yet another camera phone. This one is a super-sweet Nokia 6650 that’s GPS enabled, so I’m bound to enjoy testing it. Maybe I’ll actually shoot some photos and post GPS coordinates, considering that my blog title implies GPS photography. (I sort of dropped the ball on that part.) There will also be a mini-site featuring yours truly, but that hasn’t gone live yet. I’ll keep you posted.

I almost used the word “fetish” instead of “obsession,” but then I thought that might attract seekers of adult entertainment. But who in the heck would have a fence fetish? Well, there’s that guy who literally loves his car and that other guy who likes sleeping with his motorcycle. But a fence lover? Nah. Impossible. (I’d run a Google search, but I’m afraid of what I might find.)

2 minutes later…

OK, so I ran a search and it turns out that most results have to do with horses, fence-spotting, or violating the purpose of a fence. So it wasn’t that bad after all. If you have Google Earth (follow the link below if you don’t), check out this KML file of different snow fences. It’s actually nice photography.

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The fence outside my work zone keeps us caged like animals, running the length of the parking lot and then some. Three rows of barbed-wire top it off, making escape difficult at best. Paid security personnel monitor our every move via security cameras and mobile guards. Resistance is futile.

We are given one meal time per day, where we must supply our own food or perish at the hands of an empty stomach troubled by too much morning coffee. I elude the authority by sneaking snacks throughout the day at my terminal, though they may be on to my activities, as the trail of crumbs in the keyboard could give me away. I must invest in disposable wipes.

The water cooler gurgles incessantly, accompanied by idle chatter and forced laughter. It is a form of torture more severe than a wedding on a game day or an office birthday party. As the cool, life-giving beverage is consumed, the chatter becomes quiet and the warm bodies shuffle back to their assignments. I never drink the poison water.

Maybe I can dig underneath the fence or crawl through the slimy drain pipe running below it. Cutting a hole in the chain-link would be too obvious and driving my car through it even more so, although it would be entertaining, at least until the police arrived. No, I will get in my car, yes, and drive out of the parking lot! They will never suspect anything. At 5 p.m., I will try this and if it works, I will continue to do so until I can imprison myself in the back room of my own home, reaping the benefits from website ad revenue, affiliate commissions and freelance design projects. A slave to myself.

But until then I must endure.

Note: I am not losing my mind, thank you for being so concerned.

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Here’s the follow-up I promised yesterday. The other shots didn’t come out as good, so they are being put aside for a rainy day. Enjoy.