Gus the striper, this hat, and I go way back. To Butch days.
This hard hat saved me many a headache from Oklahoma to Minnesota to Texas and back to Nebraska. And Gus gave it some style...
The friendship was instant; we were both aspiring artists, and both hot rodders and custom car enthusiasts. Gus, Bob Gustafson, was already well-known to Omaha car culture for his striping expertise. I was working in Ashland, Nebraska, near Omaha, on a bridge for Massman Construction and we had friends in common. We were on our way to an Omaha bar for a beer or two, and Gus saw a hard hat in the back seat of my car. He picked it up and brought it into the bar, along with a striping kit he had with him. Gus striped everything.
This I.D. button was inside on the hatband. It's an antique now. Me too. If the hard hat fits, wear it...
While we BS’d and sipped cold ones, he decorated my hard hat. I was still going by “Butch” back then. It was a name given me as a child due to the low-maintenance haircut I preferred. Anyway, I thought this hat was long gone but just found it in a box moved by furnace repairmen. Funny how objects can whirl you back in time. It was a hard-partying summer and a time of big decisions. Go back to school, or take them up on a foreman position? Construction is hard work. But the foremen I’ve seen, they just walk around and tell people what to do. I must admit that had its appeal. And people would always need bridges. But art?
Hat-wise, however, I opted for the fedora of the Mad Men era, and a Borsalino at that, once the paychecks got a bit larger. But, Gus, if you’re looking down, had I gone the other route, I’d have worn your striping proudly on jobs from Taiwan to Tucumcari. The much dented and scuffed hard hat will always remind me of you from a prominent spot in my office. R.I.P. sir.
Converting a Nikon to pure infrared was not a snap decision.
The Nikon J5 is a small but powerful ebay find and I'm itching to discover what it'll do as an infrared conversion...
I wouldn’t do it to my Canon T7, which I’m slowly learning as my go-to camera, but I did try some IR filters without much success. I researched various infrared methods and watched a few hours of turorial advice (all good, by the way—most of the camera advice I encountered online was serious and helpful) and set out to find my perfect IR point-and-shoot. I had narrowed my search to a Nikon J5, the last of a series of small cameras they made, then discontinued.
I won’t go into all the good stuff packed into this aptly nicknamed pocket rocket—the info is easy to find if you’re interested. On ebay I found one in Japan, camera body only, near mint, and priced well within my range. Then I sent it to Kolarivision for its IR conversion, specifying infrared on the 720mm scale, which will allow some color in the sky and foliage. I’m waiting, bated breath, for the Nikon like I used to wait for a cereal top Lone Ranger secret compartment ring from Battle Creek, Michigan. The conversion takes three weeks and it costs more than the camera did. Meantime I bought a used Nikkor wide angle lens, an extra charger and a 140 page J5 user’s manual I found on ebay.
For an explanation of what IR photography is all about, here’s a pretty good link.
I read one of these twice just to see if it said what I thought it said. It did.
Twice-read first; In Plain Sight is one of the more definitively researched books on UFOs, now UAPs, and it begins to explain just why the military/intel community has cast the vast (more vast than ever) majority of those who see things in the sky as tinfoil hat-wearers, even threatening them, illegally. Ross Coulthart’s book (link) is not wild conjecture but based on fact and improved radar surveillance and more testimony from police, physicists, Navy pilots and commercial airline employees, plus FAA reports and military whistleblowers. A rarely bipartisan Congress is even fed up with the BS mil-feed and has enacted (2023) a law targeting the situation. Hang on to your hats folks, even if they’re tinfoil. (I’m keeping my hard hat handy)
Willy Vlautin’s The Horse, shouldn’t be confused with Horse, the Pulitzer winner by Geraldine Brooks. Vlautin’s books have never given me a feelgood afterglow, but he sure can write. Joe Hell says we need him like we needed Johnny Cash. Jess Walter called The Horse “the literary equivalent of a classic album by Tom Waits or Townes Van Zandt.” Fair enough. Warning: It’s a heartbreaker, but, again, he sure can write. Essays One, by Lydia Davis, is 500+ pages of erudite precision and essays on artists, writing and writers that is, to me, oddly absorbing; I bought it to help me explore the intricacies of true essays, but it’s making me forget that, it’s so well done. Davis’s Collected Short Stories caused Rick Moody to call her “The best prose stylist in America.” Just sayin’, I don’t think I’m wasting my time with any of these.
This silversmith/jeweller is a multifaceted gem.
On her way to work in Chiefs gear in case she got tangled up in the parade last year.
She holds down a full time, very time-consuming job as Print Production Manager of a rather large global company, overseeing print production, color management, press runs, and much more beginning with the job’s onset and following through to delivery deadlines. This can involve client brochures, company items, banners, posters, books, all manner of swag and wearables, pop-ups, mailings, boxes, custom one-of-a-kind items and a big etcetera. She’s done this since I’ve known her and was a legend in the advertising community for it even then. How long? Years. Before we got married thirty-five years ago.
Twenty or so years ago, Freddie took up silversmithing in her “spare time,” and her devotion to detail and precision, plus an artist’s mind and eye, have served her and her customers well in this profession—I won’t trivialize it by calling it a hobby. She often spends a few hours each weekend learning from award-winning silversmith Genevieve Flynn, who holds classes on all facets of the profession, from casting, repousse, mounting, joining and more. Silversmithery is a precise art and the learning curve is forever. It makes sense she would gravitate to such a challenge. I’m so freaking proud of her and that’s an understatement. She makes astonishing museum quality jewelry and art pieces using copper, gold, silver, precious and semi-precious stones, and has taken courses with Thomas Mann and other renowned designers, like Ms. Flynn, who is right here in KC, and who often flies other luminaries in for week-long workshops at her studio. Freddie attends all of those she can.
She's wearing a silver pueblo pin, one of her first works. Photo by daughter Rhonda, at an ice cream stop a couple of weeks ago.
