The Rain Delay…

Even casual sports fans have seen the effects of a rain delay.  An outdoor sport is called to a halt by the officials, only to continue later, and reach the inevitable win/lose conclusion.  Fans wait anxiously.  Players wait anxiously.  And all involved, it seems, can’t help but feel the outcome will be tainted.

Without exception, 50% of the fans will be certain that the game resulted with the wrong conclusion, influenced by the stoppage, even if their team was well behind at the onset of the delay.  The other 50%, however, will be equally certain that their team would have still won, with or without the influence of the rain delay, but the asterisk will haunt them.  Of course, there’s no way the alternative result can ever be known beyond the great, WHAT IF…

What takes place after a rain delay, is what takes place, and until humans are better able to control the flow of rain during sportsball events, we should accept the results – just like we accept the results of political elections.  Wink…

I had my own rain delay of sorts yesterday, though it wasn’t as critical as game 7 of this World series, past.  My early morning walk yesterday, was put off for a few hours by a late-season storm.  I was anxious.  My dog was anxious.  We were certain the outcome would be tainted.  However, thanks to a mid-morning cancelation in my schedule, which came after the rain subsided, we were provided the opportunity to walk – after the rain delay.

Unlike in sport, the result of our rain delay offered two winners, me and my dog, with no losers and no thinking about the great, WHAT IF…

As he and I are both fans of, and participants in our morning walks, 100% of us agreed with the result, and there was no grumbling from Stroodle or myself about the effect the rain had on the outcome of our walk – the conclusion was stunning.  Here’s some proof of yesterday’s outdoor game. May you all engage in such sport, daily… Jhciacb

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If you are not already a subscriber, please scroll up and do so.  Tell your friends about me — about what happens when I push the STOP button on the blender in my head. Oh, and there’s this from Sons Of Bill.  Enjoy…

Pictures Of Match Shtick Men…

We’re all photographers now. Anyone with a smartphone possesses the ability to take worthy photographs. If our photographs aren’t so worthy, there are digital tools available, right after the fact, to help manipulate them into better photographs. In seconds, we can turn any picture into something completely removed from the reality of the original image.

And best of all for this expanding base of so-called photographers, social media has provided us with the one thing we most desire; an audience.

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I have more than a few friends who are professional photographers – it’s how they pay their bills. I empathize with them in this era when so many people are taking so many photographs without much thought or experience. The smartphone has made it so that showing up the right time is all one needs to do to take a great photo. Oh, and some touchup skills.

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I feel guilty, and sometimes foolish, suggesting that any of my photographs are worthy of a glance by anyone but me. Despite this, I use my own photographs daily in my fitness blog and other social media platforms. When I do this, I feel as though I’m insulting those for whom photography is not just their craft, but their livelihood.

It’s where we’re at though.

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Exchanging photographs more frequently, and via different media, is a part of the evolution of how we communicate – pictures are once again becoming language. It’s just that in the modern era, we don’t have to carve them into stone.

Today we communicate with images at a rate much higher in proportion to written languages than at any time in modern history. It has been suggested by some that within a few hundred years, images will have largely replaced written languages as the primary means of communication for our species.

But wait, isn’t that where we started…? Jhciacb

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If you are not already a subscriber, please scroll up and do so.  Tell your friends about me — about what happens when I push the STOP button on the blender in my head. Oh, and there’s this from The Steve Gibbons Band..  Enjoy…