With Epson, In Oakland
Saturday morning and they've announced that the U.S. Supreme Court has halted the count. Yesterday, some of the pundits said that stopping the count would effectively make Bush the winner, so maybe Bush is the winner. Better that than the Florida legislature sending their own electoral slate, but I suspect any institution that touches this tar baby will become tainted. I'd be curious to hear what they say in two or three decades when historians have had the time and the distance to sort it out. The transitional period between the cold war and the whatever. What we should have noticed and what we did not.
As a neophyte out in the bull rushes I have no idea what's going on. Maybe nobody does. Then again, maybe there's a small room in a large building set somewhere in an eastern city where all things are secretly decided. I'm willing to bet, however, the worldwide Jewish conspiracy aside, whoever's in that room: they're no longer all white, male, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant (sans cigars). There's some diversity in there now while they're parceling out the electoral dollars. Progress, my friends, progress.
Other than that, it's overcast and they're talking about rain, but none yet. I'm running two loads through the laundry and I've been playing with my new film scanning software, seriously now, with actual references to the manual. Later on I'll take another crack at this Epson printer. Excitement, and you heard about it first, here in Oakland.
Later, in the early evening, having sorted out the Epson with a stack of 8 x 10 color prints
piling up on the counter top. Lots of questions about color balance, contrast and saturation, but they look OK, certainly better than the cruddy commercial prints I've been getting lately. They say with the inks for this particular printer that they'll last a lot longer than I will. Actually, they do look good, great big color prints, maybe four or five good ones at the moment, more to come if I can find the negatives. Strange to go back through my pictures and see them for the third or fourth time and notice how pedestrian they look. (Skip over the usual breast beating rant.) Oh, well. This is my practice space. More time, more practice and maybe more intelligence with the camera. All this damned equipment and most of the time I feel like I'm blind.
A long slow languid day with Wuss lounging on the desk beside me. Laundry done, two rental movies watched, a journal entry written and the Epson making prints. Nice.