Of course the mother watching would never wish such a calamity on her children. For her, it is just a gentle spring day in the park. A carrousel slowly turns to the tinkle of piped music. Birds fly overhead. A fine and relaxed day in Carcassonne.

And yet...

This reminds me of the upstream battle with locks. Normally, lock keepers are among the most helpful people in France. They will catch your ropes when tossed and help you cleat your boats. This is most appreciated, especially when traveling light handed in a canal boat. But for some reason, over Easter week, the lock keepers on the Canal du Midi, to a man, refused to touch a rope.

The one exception was the young girl pictured here by Dr. Carter. She took our lines, cleated them, and ran the boat through the lock. She also closed the place up at the end of the day. Her Grandpa was very impressed by the 2 euro tip she received.

Bravo!

Normally such an image would hit the trash because of its lack of separation. But here, the colors serve the same purpose that light would have normally served. The purple flower canopy accented by yellow splashes soften the cold stone and allow the dark wood of the tree to move forward. An accidental photo that turned out well.

This serves as a lesson why you should always keep your camera at the ready. You never know when you might drive up on a great shot. Ducks waddling along the center of a freeway, a tanker truck flipped on an overpass, or a great smile from the car next to yours. Try to never find that great shot when your camera uselessly left at home.

One photographer I know would not display this image without first spending 10 minutes erasing the telephone wire at the right. I, on the other hand, prefer to retain the wire. The presence of the wire signals to the viewer that this bridge is associated with civilization. France is woefully backward when it comes to putting wires underground. With the wire, the viewer experiences a different metaphor than the viewer would experience without the wire.

We at bcx.news stand for honest photography.

So, if I take a digital color image and REMOVE the color information, am I creating a "more truthful" lie?

Modification of the image is what photography is. You cannot draw a clear line between what is "alteration" and what is not.

Once you begin to object to making a picture more esthetically pleasing by removing distracting wires (which are neither the subject of the image nor prominent enough to make some point) you start down a path which has no end, nor any point.

Re: "With the wire, the viewer experiences a different metaphor than the viewer would experience without the wire. We at bcx.news stand for honest photography"

All photography is an abstraction; both of time and space.

One's choice of format, lens focal length, plane of focus, depth of field, overall exposure, duration of exposure, color saturation; the use of swings, tilts, rises, and falls; 3-D vs. 2-D, method of 3-D; medium of display: The sum of these and other elements contribute to a final representation of some highly editorialized viewfinder selection of a, mute, cold, simplistic splinter of reality. Insensate and contextually deprived.

As Goddard might have you believe, film is not "truth, 24 times a second". That's a nice sound-bite, but it's a lie.

Is B&W inherently less honest than color?

Is 2-D inherently less honest than 3-D?

Is my photo of "a window across the street" (Windows2006_08.jpg) inherently dishonest because I digitally applied a swing, rise, and tilt to compensate for the distorting effect of keystoning... or is it more honest?

Is removing non-essential distractions from a shot; say, something like, oh, I don't know, powerlines from behind a photo of Terry, being dishonest? I think that would be more honest, certainly more honest to the craft.

Were Titian's reds "honest"? Rembrandt's lighting "honest"? When Michelangelo carved the statue "David", he did so in a disproportionate way so that it would appear proportional when viewed from below. Was he being dishonest? Were Cezanne, VanGogh, Degas, Monet all dishonest?

Photography is a vehicle of communication. "Reality" is not it's domain.

Given the tools we have today, I think it's poor photography not to consider using them. Or just laziness. Or an absurdly obdurate and obtrusive notion that a photograph is, somehow, "real."

In fact many fine mustards come from France where perhaps the best known is Dijon.

In America, there too are mustard fields. In America the most infamous of the American mustards is French's, a pale yellow mustard. French's Mustard is not French, nor is it owned by the French. Instead it is owned by the British firm Reckitt Benckiser PLC. It is named French's because its founder was named Robert T. French.

Fortunately, I had a 500mm lens that allowed me to grab a picture of it from the top of a bridge over the river. Next year we will perhaps take a train to Carcassonne and actually visit the castle. In the meanwhile, be forewarned that going upstream on a canal boat can be exhausting to those of us baby boomers still fit enough to travel.

During the 1300's, Europe lost half of its total population. Is it any wonder that the graveyards of Europe are so full?

Three of us sat on the back of the boat as the sun quietly set. The wind died leaving the water glass still. We shot this same boat at different times using different lenses on different cameras. Some of these shots were good and will appear elsewhere, later on this site. Some were flawed and discarded. This shot was selected because it illustrates an important lesson.

Whenever you find the perfect subject in imperfect light, try to wait patiently for the light to mature. Dr. Carter waited. The sun began to set causing shadows to lengthen and shift. The wind died and rain had not yet started to fall. When the light was right, Dr. Carter shot.

Instead, following his road takes one to a set of private vegetable gardens on the town's outskirts. Past the gardens is a major road perpendicular to this that actually runs into town. Despite the narrowness of this dirt road, one car did speed out it at a good clip. So beware all cars, no matter how dinky the road or how placid the scene.

From the next boat ahead a British gentleman and his wife emerged to untie and cast off. We had a friendly chat with them about the canals in England, which are narrower. His scowl in this shot is not actually from the rain, but from having his picture taken.

The dappling of rain on the water, the glisten of the boat, the fading of the trees, and the slight tilt leeward of the boat all say "rain" perfectly.

Flower to the People!

I am sure there is more of a story here than Dr. Carter admits. The sign says that individual liberty is preferred over gathering the community into one. Why is this sign next to a decorated container building? Where was this photo taken? Other than the two objects creating a natural joke, why should we care?

While wandering through one of the former outdoor statuary gardens (now covered with a glass roof) we noticed what appeared to be a film being shot inside the museum. We became quiet and walked softly up to watch. With an internal bolt of surprise we realized the boom operator was actually a statue. We'd been fooled.

When old sculpture is mixed with new, the effect is produced by the juxtaposition, rather than by the work of the actual artists. In this way, a museum acts itself as an artist. We saw no sign explaining why the boom operator had been placed just there, but then we were so surprised we probably didn't look carefully. This sculpture in a museum of modern art would have had a much different effect.

This is the sign for the Cafe Dame Tartine, a restaurant that has a reputation for being expensive. Notice the dessert, a créme brulée with pistachio. The exchange rate at the time equated €6 to about U.S. $12. Clearly, the expense of this cafe encouraged the establishment of many fast-food stands to litter the garden grounds.

Unlike most of Paris, this garden offered a sprinkling of food places all within an easy walk of the others. But venture outside the garden to the streets and the story changes. In Paris, on the right bank, restaurants cluster on busy corners. One can walk two or more long blocks before finding a cluster of restaurants. When hungry, this spacing lends the impression of a desert of restaurants. Imagine that. Stuck in Paris and not a restaurant to be found.

In France, the work week is 35 hours. As a consequence, restaurants are only open for lunch until 2:00 p.m., then close and don't open again until 7:00 p.m. for dinner. If, as many Americans do, you get hungry at 4:00 or 5:00 p.m. you are out of luck. The only alternatives are the small markets, gas stations (for sandwiches), or fast food outlets like McDonalds. Fortunately, near the train stations, one can often find ethnic food open at all times.

We expected to break from the unusual heat that day by hiding in the shade of the snaking park. Instead, we found all the benches there crusted with years of bird droppings. The few people we saw all sat on spread newspapers. Lacking newspapers we dared not sit. Contrast that park to the upper and more publically visible park (shown here) which had clean benches.

Now it could be that the snaking park was, in fact, a problem park frequented by derelicts and drunks. If so, the presence of bird-dropping encrusted benches makes a certain amount of sense as a preventive measure. But in a city so proud of itself, such a technique is shameful. And if it is not a technique after all, but instead poor maintenance, it is double shameful.

Dispite the traffic, the grassy areas were full of people that day because of the clear skies and hot tempertures. Some people toyed with socker balls while most others lounged on the grass.

In this regard the French are much like people everywhere. Nice weather draws nearly everyone into the great outdoors. Where the French excell, however, is by the beautiful trappings with which they surround those who venture out.

For example there is a street named Rue de Victor Hugo in almost every village we visited.

By another measure, we spent three hours touring and photographing the cemetery and calculate that we only viewed perhaps one tenth of the graves. If you go, plan at least a week to see it all.

All generations attend the race

The Bay to Breakers race has been labeled over the years with epithets ranging from crazy drunks to tasteless nudes. From its beginning in 1912 (to raise spirits after the 1906 earthquake), this race has grown in attendance consistantly over the years to become one of the world's largest races. In recent years alone, the number of participants has reached roughly 80,000. During World War II the number slipped below 50, whereas during the running boom of the 80s it hit a high of 110,000 in 1986.

Despite the evolution of nude runners, this race has matured into a fun event for all ages. Even babys in strollers can particpate, albeit pushed by their parents. Indeed, what Herb Caen once called "the city's longest running party," has evolved over the years into a fine event enjoyed by all.

Organizations, such as the Barge Association can be helpful to those seeking an live aboard situation. Live aboard craft can vary from the tiny boats, such as shown here, to large barges. If you are interested in buying a boat, one place to look is Apollo Duck. Or if you are more interested in just trying out a large barge, try Canals of France.

In this early morning shot, the sun has just cleared the tree tops and is shining brightly into this home. Perhaps inside a man sees the sunlight streaming in and decides today will be a fine day indeed. But, because this is France, the man probably thinks that thought in French.

Shutters also serve to insulate (energy prices are high here)... and, they aid in keeping the Caliphates out

Aujourd'hui sera un jour beau en effet

Such revelations are sadly rare. More often, one will find something strange, puzzle over it, and never solve what it might have been. Such found object, re-abandoned, are quickly forgotten. But sometimes, found objects are collected, and sometimes found objects are turned into art. And, these day, a found object can be shot with a cell phone and messaged to a friend for identification.

The Tate Museum in Britain makes a kid's game out of found art. Others turn unknown objects into a science. And yet others turn lost objects into a photo essay.

Here's hoping that all you have lost may be someday found.

Four floors store fossils, and a fifth stores patent copies from the Library. As a student, I worked in Doe Library's periodical room. I would occasionally go up Sather Tower to fetch a patent book. The elevator, in those day, had a metal gate that allowed one to view floor contents as the elevator rose. Not only did I see fossils on the lower floors, but I also witnessed tableaus. Inventive students, it seems, created mini-scenes using fossil bones, for the entertainment of all who rode the elevator.

Perhaps it was these jovial juxtapositions of bones that led later to such hair-brained sites as creationism.org. One must be careful with the jokes one plays. Today's joke may lead, decades later, to the fall of society.

Just one short block up the hill from these cable cars is the proported origin of Irish Coffee at the Buena Vista Cafe. Irish Coffee is simple to make. Just mix 1.5 oz. Irish whiskey with 1 tsp. sugar and six oz. of coffee. Then float cold cream on top but don't mix it in. At the Buena Vista Cafe you'll pay $US 6.50 apiece for this drink.

Now that you know how to make an Irish Coffee, why not kick back and make one tonight. Have a sip and toast the Cable Cars.

We here in the States have grown accustomed to drinking water in flavors. Not only that, but we now look to water for vitamins as well. But wait, that ain't all. Now too comes flavored water for dogs in mouth watering tastes such as chicken, liver, and lamb.

What happened to the happy dog that would slaver over a simple bowl of water from the tap? Dogs have not changed. Dogs now are pretty much like the dogs we knew ten years ago. What changed, of course, is people like you and me. We changed.

We are no longer content to buy bread in a bakery (boulangerie) and cheese in a cheese store (fromagerie). Instead we look for everything pre-created to be as convenient as possible in a supermarket (supermarché). Is it any wonder then that the convenience and desire for creature comforts would rub off onto our dogs?

On the road to zero footprint consumerism the automobile lags far behind. Tires are being recycled into playground paths. Tennis shoes are being recycled into basketball court floors. Aluminum cans are being recycled into aluminum cans. But automobiles are still junked, crushed, and only partly recycled. And along the road, each car will consume almost a thousand gallons of gas per year.

The Tesla electric car can travel 200 miles on a charge and only takes a few hours to charge. If you buy one they give you a solar cell for the top of your garage or carport that provides fifty miles of electricity per day. If you only commuted twenty-five miles per day, you would only consume time and road surface.

By far the best way to travel is by rail. In Europe large cities have extensive underground rail. In London and Paris, the underground rail stations are only a few blocks from anywhere in town. In San Francisco, the cost of putting rail underground has grown so expensive that only one new mile is currently planned. The longer we wait to put rail underground, the more expensive the task grows. Because there is no circumstance that will make the task cheaper in the future, all cities should bite the bullet and put all rail underground now. Why in the world should we wait for the cost to double before acting?

Along other paths the lamp itself adds to the impression of beauty. A good street light should be, after all, not just a source of light but a sculpture that illuminates. Instead, most streetlights are not only pure utility but suck huge amounts of electricity.

Stick a 500 watt lamp in a street light and plunk it on an aluminum pole and plant that poll on a street corner. Count up the street corners in a small town and you quickly consume hundreds of ugly kilowatts just illuminating empty streets all night. Could we save electrify by detecting movement and only lighting up when a car or person was present? Or what if pedestrians had to carry their own lights, much like cars are required to have headlights for nighttime travel? Or what if LED bulbs could be used in streetlights?

Many questions today, and no bright light of answers.

At dinner that night, the child's mother announced, "Tonight we will become vegetarians."

The mother describes to the child all the awful ways that animals are slaughtered to produce meat for the table. So convincing is the mother that the child weeps and promises never to eat meat again.

The child, anxious for dinner is surprised by a salad set on the table. The top of the salad is littered with torn pieces of purple cabbage. The child wails, "You slaughtered the cute little cabbage."