UnZud Here We Come

Haven't had a decent holiday in a few years and have been busting my arse with this job for the last two to the point where I'm about worn out. Unfortunately I broke my finger three weeks back and although that's a royal pain in the arse it's has given me a breather from work. Only have worked about three days in the last three weeks and have this week coming then have another three booked on holidays. Thank. You. God. Above.

I really needed it. Did I mention that?

We went back last year but it was a REAL flying visit as I could only get a week off and we filled it to overflowing with stuff. This year the goal is photography. We arrive in NZ on the 20th of this month and fly out on the 30th which is the second Thursday. We're heading to Fiordland for a few day - three, maybe - then off too Northern Otago/Southern Canterbury to visit the bluest lakes I've ever experienced too. Last year we took a chopper flight  from the West Coast up over and on the glaciers and up around Aoraki and Mount Tasman. This time, we're going to tackle it from the other side and venture around the lakes really just for the relax.

Obviously there's the family stuff and can't wait to see them and also we're going to check out Aramoana on the Dunedin Peninsula where I've promised to find Trace some penguins and seals. Wish me luck. Aramoana was on the receiving end of a terribly tragic event and I haven't been back there for years. I was there barely a month out from the massacre and all that stuff is just a fraction real. We were there for a BBQ just before it and wandered through the scene merely days out from it happening. Needless to say, I'm really uncomfortable there.

But, that's the past and I might take some flowers to remember them.

One week to go.

Jesse Owens' Untold Story

One of the greatest olympic stories funnily enough ends in one of my picks for greatest photos. Here it be:



We've all heard the story of Jesse Owens running and beating everyone in his 100m race in the 1936 Olympics in front of the Third Reich, and of course, Hitler. What happened the next day is where the story really becomes one of the greatest examples of humanity and what it's capable of.

The following day came the long jump and Owens was unexpectedly in trouble. In the morning qualifying session he had two foul jumps, leaving him with one chance to record the necessary distance of 7.15m, usually comfortably within his range. Then Luz Long, Germany's great hope, the embodiment of the Aryan ideal and Owens's chief rival for gold, introduced himself to the American and recommended he set his runup marker back a foot or so in order to be sure of recording a legal jump. Owens did so and sailed into the final.

In the final Owens took an early lead with a jump of 7.74m but Long went ahead in the penultimate round, leaping out to 7.87m. Owens responded in sensational style with 7.94m in the fifth and 8.06m in the sixth and final round. Luz was the first to congratulate him and they took a lap of honour around the stadium together as the crowd rose to salute them both. "It took a lot of courage for him to befriend me in front of Hitler," said Owens later. "You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn't be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment."

I guess, in part, that photo is responsible for my love of photography.

Mental Illness and Gun Ownership

Another whack job walks into a crowded area and takes out a another dozen or so people. I think the universe looks at us as a species and just shakes its head. We're flawed, and scary. Not sure what gets people to the point that they've lost that much humanity and distanced themselves so far from their soul they could hold a gun against a group of people and watch sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, and babies, die, in a most gruesome and torturous way.

I can't comprehend this shit. The soul is getting a fragile I think. I can't look at headlines and just see a story any more. I see people I could love and cherish. It's only some universal lottery that I wasn't born related and/or formed a friendship with them. Every time I read about THEM, I well up and get lumpy in the throat.

Some call it evil. Some call it a twisted form of faith. Really, the truth of the matter is that it is mental illness and some form of alienation from reality that caused this. Sure, guns were the choice of method and there's a very reasoned argument for the much heavier regulation of firearms in the States. No civilian needs access to military weapons. There's a place for heavier calibre semi-auto's in pest control but there's no reason why someone need mags 30-100 rounds deep in a civilian situation. I can't see the issue with people having personal protection. I wish we did.

The point of this is though, past the headlines and debate on weapons there's people mourning and in some serious pain. Let's not forget about them, and let's not forget about why it REALLY happened. Mental illness.