GLOBADOM

I’ve been thinking a lot about digital cameras lately, as the volume of photos posted here might indicate. Since it’s near Christmas (and Boxing Day, for that matter), I thought I’d share some of my general thoughts about digital cameras, and what a year of using one has taught me. I think it’s especially relevant right now, because I believe that consumer-oriented cameras have crossed a threshold: they are good enough. Oh sure, they’re going to get better (though I think more slowly) and cheaper (though I think that prices will soon be constrained by the less-malleable cost of good lenses than the ever-shrinking cost of good image sensors), but for the usual amateur photographer needs, 5-10 megapixels is probably enough that the lens will start to be a bigger limiting factor in ultimate resolution than the pixel count.

According to my iPhoto listing, I have uploaded more than 1200 items, the oldest from mid-May. Now, that’s probably a modest week of photography for some pros, if not a vigorous day, but for me — and keep in mind I used to be a photographer at my high school, and had unfettered use of one of my father’s Pentax Spotmatic SLRs from a very young age — that may be more photos than I took in the other 31.5 years of my life. This is because of the first rule of digital photography for amateurs: when the marginal cost of taking a picture is so close to zero, you will take a lot of pictures.

Taking a lot of pictures is good for your skills, and a good habit for any photographer aspiring to take better pictures. Sheer chance helps here, too: more photos equals a better shot at getting lucky.

As if that wasn’t enough, digital cameras give you instantaneous feedback. It’s a bit crude in some cases: I use the rule that a photo isn’t really bad until it has been confirmed bad by looking at it on the computer. But a quick check can confirm how the last shot turned out, and hit at how to change settings for the next shot. In traditional photography, the standard method was to bracket and hope. Pros, knowing the value of feedback and being able to justify the considerable cost, used to use Polaroid photo backs for their cameras, letting them check composition and lighting on the fly. Now everyone can have that kind of feedback anywhere. Let’s call it the second rule of digital photography for amateurs: instant feedback equals instant learning.

I think those first two rules are pretty uncontroversial. But my third rule is a bit odd: I’ve come to the conclusion that all things being equal, it’s probably okay to sacrifice quality if it means the camera is smaller. Let’s put it this way in the third rule: make your camera small enough that you carry it anywhere.

My third rule is born of experience. I like quality shots. But as a person who grew up around several amateur photographers (mainly my father and his sister), we have all noticed that when push came to shove, our SLRs stayed at home most of the time. A compact camera just made more sense in most cases.

To make a long story short, my father and mother now own a Canon A85, a compact digital with a good reputation and pretty good manual controls. My own camera is a Nikon Coolpix 2500, a camera which is mostly pocketable and a mere 2 megapixels. It doesn’t even have full manual aperture and shutter controls. But it comes most places with me. If I was to upgrade, rather than move to one of the many really nice cameras in the size range of the very good Canon A-series, I would probably look for another camera the size of mine, such as the Canon S80, or an even smaller option.

So there’s my basic theory of digital photography: the first camera an amateur digital photographer buys should be one small enough to carry everywhere, whatever that means for you. I think other considerations come after that.

Since I have you here, let me share my other digital gear theory: the great missing camera out there is an interchangeable-lens rangefinder. Since the LCD screen on the back of digital cameras already offers a through-the-lens display, why not just give up on the pentaprism altogether? Probably not acceptable for pros, but for most amateurs I think the trade-offs would be worth the size and weight advantages. Sony has come very close, and may even be better than my idea (who are you betting on: a large electronics company with years of experience building digital cameras, or me?), but doesn’t have a removable lens.

So go get a camera and start shooting. Even a gearhead like me knows that the pictures are more important than the gear. But of course, that’s the killer advantage of digital: more pictures. Play to that strength.

Chinatown
Originally uploaded by rcousine.

It was the usual story: take a bunch of pictures Sunday night, come back with one pretty presentable one. This is the Cheng Fung Herb shop on Keefer Street in Chinatown. I’m shooting from the 5th floor of a parking garage across the street.

December 12-17, 1900-2200 (doors open at 1800) each night, it’s a Six-Day race at the Burnaby Velodrome. The (PDF) schedule. The signature event each night is the Madison, a wild team event which Gord describes in a 4-star blog entry, complete with pictures.

I intend to be there for every night I can. I recommend you do the same. This should be an interesting event even for non-cyclists. It’s fast and crazy and beautiful, and the races are only 10-30 minutes each, so it’s perfect for short attention spans.

The Cane
Originally uploaded by rcousine.

I was going to write this up as a how-to article, but it’s ridiculous. The first line would be, “start by digging a 30-year-old touring frame out of your parts collection, then…” and you can imagine how useful that would be to the cyclists of the world. This project is more of an object lesson on an attitude: figure out the end goals, then rearrange your resources to fit the goal. If you can’t do that, then change the goal.

Thanks to an inspired name suggestion from Jak, The Cane has been renamed and repurposed as a cyclocross bike. I knew I wanted a ‘cross bike, but there wasn’t much to worry about because I didn’t have any serious cyclocross tires, and it seemed silly to build a ‘cross bike at the end of cyclocross season.

Then brother John got me some tires. Casting about in the pile brought up the Motobecane as my only road bike with the frame clearances to handle ‘cross tires, and since frame clearance is the single most important feature of a ‘cross frame, this bike is now my ‘cross bike.

This is version 1. Version 2 of this bike will see STI shifting, a new handlebar (thanks to Dave), ‘cross levers, and hopefully a rat-tail fender and a new saddle (the current seat is a classic leather model). I have plans to convert this bike to a single front ring, especially since the 44T “small” ring on the cranks is a good size for a single ‘cross ring. But I think that will wait for next season.

Good judgment comes from experience. And where does experience come from? Bad judgment. That’s why I have such good judgment.

Ahem.

Monday morning it took me three tries to get to work.

Try #1: same bike I used Saturday morning has a flat rear tire. Oops. Investigation reveals an explosive blow-out at some point, caused by a failed tire sidewall on a tire bought earlier this year. Either the tire was defective or I have to check my brake positioning.

Try #2: patched tube, grabbed nearest functional tire. A brand-new 32mm (fairly fat) cyclocross (fairly knobby) tire. Inflate to recommended pressure, blow up inner tube so noisily it blows three tire levers across the kitchen. One lands on the stove top. Right. That was a 23-25mm tube which I just put in that tire. Way too small, stupid.

Try #3: go into shed. Drag out only ready-to-ride bike that really fits me: the trusty Kilauea mountain bike. Super. Repack clothes and lunch from saddlebag into backpack, and allez.

Morals of the story: stuff happens. Don’t be stupid. Always have a spare bicycle. Hm. Actually, The Whip should have been serviceable too. Now I have to figure out why it wasn’t. Also, why did I take the rear tire off the Pinarello singlespeed? And what was I using for a wheel on the back of the ‘cane?

It’s official. My bike collection has started to possess me. Bad thing.

Topics at the front of my mind in the last few days: weatherproof adhesive labels; ICBC cash settlement policies; moving up cost curves when performance improves dramatically, even though it requires exiting your cost comfort zone; the short in my headlight; serpentine belt replacement on a VW New Beetle; Ray Kurzweil’s latest book; video game reviews for fun and profit; knitting versus crochet; gingerbread houses; aebleskiver; Christmas lights; dog discipline; other.

Normally, I don’t go in for link posts, because I doubt I can tell you anything new: I don’t think a pointer to a big-league aggregation site is value-added, and I care about value for my 20 readers.

But I make an exception tonight, as I collect a few things that are fun.

A Demolition that Didn’t: watch in awe as a grain elevator experiences a controlled implosion, drops about 20 feet, slews over sideways, and stays up. Read more.

Too visceral? Need something with more of a drug-patent-law crossed with very weird chemistry flavour? Unenumerated points at a gripping tale of how polymorphic crystals can cause major headaches for chemists, in this case effectively leading to a very unusual patent-infringement case.

I urge you to read Judge Richard Posner’s decision in SmithKline Beecham v. Apotex, a remarkably well-written explanation of some extremely fine points of law and science. I don’t want to spoil the ending, but maybe the most interesting anecdote of all involves the AIDS drug ritonavir:

Two years later a previously unknown–and, characteristically, a more stable–polymorph (Form II) appeared in the plant in the United States in which the final product was being manufactured. Immediately the old polymorph (Form I) began converting to the new. . . . Form I and Form II ritonavir were not bioequivalent. Fortunately (or so it seemed), Form II (the new polymorph) had not yet been observed in the plant in Italy where the bulk ritonavir was produced–but shortly after a visit to that plant by scientists who had been exposed to Form II, Form II showed up there too, probably . . . as a result of seeding from Form II crystals on the scientists’ clothing.

Now, why am I looking at white weatherproof adhesive labels? Because I could use them to make pro-looking customized top-tube bike labels. Better than pro-looking, really.

If you happen to know of a local-to-Vancouver source for white BOPP label stock that doesn’t require me to buy $50 worth of labels as a minimum order, I’d be grateful.

So, since I rode the bus to work today (part of my ongoing commitment to not commuting by bicycle while there is snow on the roads), I read one of the free commuter papers, and they had this article on how some activists staged a mock hockey game of the future in Montreal, showing that the grand tradition of pond hockey was threatened by warmer temperatures. They did this outside of a U.N. climate change conference.

Now first, I’m trying to imagine this theoretical Canadian who is threatened by warmer winters. I don’t think they live in Edmonton.

But then, I read that scientists at the same Montreal conference are predicting that climate change may cause colder winters for parts of Canada and Europe.

Okay, yes, one groups is a bunch of kids who don’t know any better, and the other group consists of actual scientists. But I continue to feel that on the issue of climate change, it’s probably too soon to tell.

Oh, I’m such a political junkie.

It fills me with something like shame to admit how much I enjoy a good election campaign, especially a federal one. And this after all my bold words about the importance of local politics. But I love local politics like I love amateur sports: the important, useful end of the entity, where all that tasty subsidiarity happens that I so love.

Federal politics exists in the same space as professional sports: it’s serious players in widely-watched leagues, and I love to watch and cheer. Expect me to try to winnow out some statistical details during the campaign whenever possible.

I shan’t spoil this posting by telling you which team I cheer for. Most of you already know, and I don’t want to spoil this blog for those of you who would be disappointed to know that my hobbies include cycling, photography, and overthrowing the imperialist running-dog capitalists of the world.

Hm. The standard complaint is true: communists are still funnier than fascists. Mel Brooks will be disappointed.

Attack spider
Originally uploaded by rcousine.

When faced with a large, unusual orange spider, I take pictures. No need to thank me.

Smiling Meatball
Originally uploaded by rcousine.

It’s not my best work. But here’s a picture of part of the Sweet Tooth Cafe’s awning. It’s a fairly amusing graphic, but what really makes it stand out are the subtly smiling meatballs.

You get nothing else this weekend: aside from a big and eventful club ride on Saturday morning, and shoe-polishing this evening, I did nothing. I’m just waiting for this to arrive. Impatiently.