bigbonton

One to one correspondence
That's a favorite term for me, learned it in first grade and it sounded so big and important that I tried it out that night at the dinner table - without ceasing, as first grade chirrens often do...
Everything at the table had newly discovered one to one correspondence.
Salt to pepper. Fork to spoon. Plate to bowl.

What about these two images?
There's some correspondence going on here, but what?
Holes through partitions?
Failed attempts at barriers?
Perspective via a centered focal point in a photo?

Notice the padlock on the gate of the wooden building.
A padlock on that gate is mostly symbolic but it does communicate the intention to barricade the place better than a twisted wire or slip latch.

Thank you for your time and we hope bigbonton has once again passed as your leisure guide of choice.

Statistically (webstats-istically), 80% of you gentle readers have just returned from lunch, it is 1PM local time, and you'll spent 8 minutes on bigbonton.org.
Most of you are not in the USA. We know because we care.

Hello to you fans in Denmark, Australia, and that curious uptick of traffic from Argentina.
Hmm... does bigbonton also have a "soulmate in Argentina" like South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford?
Click away on me my dear, mi querido, mon cher, meu caro, mijn lieve, liebe, käre, kedvesem, mio caro, and all the other localizations of the term of endearment.
Mine heart is big with grand affections, without reservation. Well, maybe one reservation (if this is one): for me, the one to one correspondence applies to relationships. You do what is best for you, but I'll go with:
GIGO: Garbage In, Garbage Out.
You get out of it what you put in to it.

Posted by bigbonton at 1:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This BBQ place never really got going.
and then the Interstate came through, and then people started eating salads instead of BBQ and then they quit going to the beach, "what with the price of gas these days" . . .

Earlier we've stated some (made-up) rule about how a tin roof and smoking pit guarantees good BBQ eating.
This is an exception to that rule, even the tin roof couldn't save this BBQ joint. Maybe the food wasn't good or the cooks were surly & glum?

Today the parking lot has a tree growing up through the pavement. Couldn't photograph from my part of the parking lot because some rapscallion ne'er-do-wells were conducting some sort of business on that very spot by the tree - whoops! - we didn't see anything, don't know nothing 'bout nothing. Sure wasn't going to point a camera at 'em.

All I know is I don't know.

We documented the failed BBQ stand and departed before they could come over.
As we shifted into 2nd gear we heard the crime boss yell
"You best Ge-et out this lot!".
Right. Some threat, lame bravado crowing from the rural poor.
But here's another made-up rule:
"Don't get in a fight with someone that has nothing to loose".

3rd gear, 4th gear, and we're laughing and I'm checking the rear view mirror - as if!

Posted by bigbonton at 11:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The Gibbs Museum of Art, Charleston, SC.

       

A magnificent bust, non?
Oh! She eees too bee-yoo-tee-foo.

click photos to enlarge in new window

No Photography! - the sign said.
Lucky for us I cannot read.

Posted by bigbonton at 6:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

photo below, from the top:
1) Spanish Mackerel, caught trolling over the Betsy Ross Reef
LORAN C-45504.1/61061.9 // GPS-32 03.427/080 24.851
2) A large mouth surprise photo'd at the dock. I shot this one.
With this camera. It was much larger than the cooler it was draped over - about 4 feet of solid fish not including the tail. He could swallow your head up to your shoulders.
3) Sea Bass, from 40 miles offshore. Not telling where. Off Hilton Head in the Atlantic. Look at those eyes - clear means fresh.


click the photo!
Actual fish are larger than they appear.
I grin everytime I read that.

Quite a haul & by the time I reeled in my last thundering Sea Bass of the day I'd fished myself out. We got a big laundry basket full of fish. Even after cleaning we had a cooler stuffed full of meat.

At the reef our Spanish Mackerel catches were often partials - barracuda found us and were biting off our Spanish Mackerel catch before we could land them. We were pulling up heads or fish with a significant bite missing from their abdomen.

More yapping about fishing:
"I" caught the biggest shark until my buddy one-upped me. But mine fought more!
"I" also made the biggest commotion over nothing, hooting & crowing while reeling in a "shark or something" that turned out to be some sort of epileptic sand dab / guppy. It felt big. Perhaps a shark did a bait & switch?
"I" claim to have caught the most, but admit most of mine were from an Elementary School and were tossed back to graduate.

One undisputed superlative "I" earned:
"I" tossed cookies the most. Twice.
Nobody else got sick over the side although some looked like they felt like it on a few trolls. When I hurled, my experience at sea showed. Everyone agreed that I really know how to barf with finesse.
Along with the "Most Urps" award "I" also earned the "Best Bounce-Back" award: "I" ralphed, "I" rinsed my mouth, blew my nose to clear the stomach acid from my sinuses, and "I" re-started fishing & yapping again without delay.

"I" persevered against these obstacles and kept on fishing.
Then I accused a guy of hogging the "Luck Corner" of the boat when he caught several in a row and I was on a dry spell.
Fish, Fish, fish-fish. Fishing!

Posted by bigbonton at 2:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)