Hiatus and thankfully sobering

February 2, 2013

Happy G-hogging, G-hogs and hoagies.  I hope your day has been as exhilirating as mine.  Here's what I have accomplished today - I copied and pasted a thank you letter into Pentax's customer service webform.  Thank you letters are something I had to write after every Christmas, birthday, graduation, and interview I enjoyed/endured as a wee snotty youth.  Now they are something that I occasionally e-mail out when I feel motivated/compelled to do so.

 

I am still working towards becoming a more sober bicycler, and part of being sober is being thankful for stuff.  Because if you are thankful enough for stuff, you probably won't want to risk it unneccesarily just for kicks.  As part of my gradual detoxification, I am now jumpy, incoherent and afraid of my own shadow, which I feel is a step in the right direction.  So here is my usual annual/perineal perennial posting of the lovely musical composition known as Groundhog Day.

 

 

And here's my communique to Pentax.

Dear Pentax,

I love my Optio WG-1.  I read a review of the Optio W90 in Outside magazine online (November 01, 2010) and, after damaging my previous digital camera during a bicycling event, figured the rugged WG-1 would be perfect for me.  Well it is, and its many features are useful and fun to explore.  We have had many memorable experiences together, most recently the following:

I had embarked upon my evening commute homewards amidst rapidly thickening snowfall.  I was snapping a few photos for my bicycle commuting blog (Bike Snot OMA) and generally enjoying the wintery environment.  As the snowfall increased the multi-use trail disappeared, rendered indistinguishable from the surrounding grass by a uniform blanket of snow.  I took another photo, giddy from the added challenge of safely maneuvering on the occasionally slick, ice and snow-adorned pavement.  A few more, slower than usual, cautious descents and I was nearly home.  The snowfall continued to increase, so I reached into my pocket to record some video of the fat flakes seemingly suspended in the slate gray sky.  It was then that I noticed my left pocket was turned out.  Definitely not a proper storage compartment for my trusty WG-1!

It was easy to back track for a while.  But soon my tracks were obscured and my gloves were nearly saturated as I rode into a stiff north wind.  No sign of the camera at my last photo stop, so I dug through the snow for a few minutes before turning back homewards to prepare for our trip to the hospital for the birth of our son the next day.

Three weeks later the mercury hit 52 degrees Fahrenheit, it had rained steadily for a day, and the snow cover had been mostly liquefied and absorbed by the thirsty soil.  I had switched to car commuting due to illness.  On my way home I got out to check for my camera at my last photo stop – a longshot, I figured, but I was emotionally attached to my WG-1 and I didn’t really want to have to buy a new (or used) one, what with the new kid and all.  I’d assured my wife that the camera would still work if I found it – it is water and “adventure-proof” after all!  I’d probably just have to wipe it off and recharge the battery if I recovered it. 

The camera was lying there atop a melting ridge the plow had piled alongside the trail!  I could hardly believe my luck!  I happily picked it up and joyfully walked back towards my car.  It eventually occurred to me to try the power.  The screen came to life and the battery still showed about a ¾ charge!  Some slight condensation on the lens cleared up after about 2 hours in a warm environment. 

Thanks, Pentax, for making such a reliable, versatile camera!  I would’ve bought another one, but I’m glad I didn’t have to.  My next one, if I ever need it, will be a Pentax!

                                                                                                Bike Snot OMA