A Little G in a Big D

Hi all:

So here at the DMN, we’re in the middle of a huge migration of multimedia data from an old service we used for our site to a new and much improved one. Suffice to say, as I’ve been told by a lot of people, it’s gonna make things a whole, whole lot better for finding and viewing video and such on our site.

To help with the transition, we’ve all been asked to look through the video archive and decide which pieces, if any, we’d like to migrate over to the new system. For the folks who’ve been shooting video here for years, or are current or former members of the permanent video team, this is a big task — poring over video after video to see what’s up to snuff.

For me, it was pretty easy. I’ve only shot and/or produced about a dozen pieces in my time here. As I was only trained on Final Cut Pro and our video workflow back in late 2008, most of what I’ve done here has been in the last year and-a-half.

Video is one of the things that brought me to the DMN. The staff aggressively pursued the medium well ahead of a lot of other papers in the country, and the work produced here is at a really high bar for newspaper videography. It’s an honor to be a small part of that mix.

So anyway, on the eve of yet another work anniversary for me here in Dallas (three years as of tomorrow), I offer you a handful of my favorite videos. I put titles and blurbs where I could so you knew what they heck was going on. They’re roughly in chronological order. The first piece was the first piece I produced after FCP training (fall 2008). Last couple are from this year. Also, I’d suggest holding on for another minute to let all the videos load fully.

Thanks for your time,

- gerry -

DFW chaplains serve travelers
For more than 30 years, the DFW International Airport Interfaith Chaplaincy has served employees and travelers of varying faiths at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.

Athletes compete at Prestonwood Polo and Country Club
Vaughn Miller, founder of Prestonwood Polo and Country Club in Oak Point, Texas, discusses the sport of polo and its appeal to participants and spectators alike.

Greenville company designs miniature, toy robots
Tony Norman, CEO of Greenville-based Innovation First International, discusses the company’s line of Hexbug robotic toys and the fun work environment.

African lions move into new Wylie habitat
In-Sync Exotics, a wildlife rescue and education center in Wylie, moved four African lions into a new “Surround Sound” enclosure on Friday. The felines, three of which are rare white lions, arrived at In-Sync last year after being rescued by the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

Students go about their typical day at Booker T. Washington
Amir Razavi, a senior at Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, discusses what makes the Dallas magnet school unique.

Hey there:

So, like I said on my Facebook page the other day, I was asked to give a presentation to a group of community college students in a nearby town, as well as help judge their photo contest. It’s something folks at the DMN have done regularly for years now; guess it was my turn.

Well, through no fault of the kind teacher who set it all up, I only had about three journalism students (make that two j-students and one’s seemingly reluctant boyfriend) attend. Another two teachers (plus the set-up guy) also watched.

I’m told the usual headcount is like a dozen or more. Our best guess is a bad combo of crappy weather and the start of finals week did me in from the start. But, no worries — I had a good time anyway, and the kids, few as they were, seemed interested and grateful.

So anyway, after putting a couple of night’s work into it — totally blowing off my poor wife, who had to set up the Xmas tree all by herself — I figured I’d share with you all.

Note, though, that this will only live on here a couple of days. I used music on the slideshow that’s not licensed to us. I mean, it was just a small presentation to school kids, so I didn’t worry. On the World Wide Web, though, I don’t want to take my chances.

Without further adieu, here’s the slideshow, divided into three sections — news and features; sports; and everything else Gerry.

If you’re wondering where the “trashcam” pinhole stuff is, I showed that seperately and let the kids play with the cameras. That part went over well.

Enjoy, and thanks for looking.

- g -

Hi all:

So the other night while I was driving to a high school baseball playoff way they hell out in Colleyville, I suddenly realized that since being here at the Morning News (two years next month!), I hadn’t shot a single prep baseball game … or prep volleyball … swimming … wrestling … etc. The list goes on. I think — pretty sure — that I’ve only shot high school football and basketball … maybe a tennis match or soccer game for good measure.

Anyway, shooting the game made me realize how, on some level, prep sports can actually be quite the challenge; almost harder than professional or college ball. I mean sure, it moves more slowly than pros or D1 and the access is generally a lot better, but if you’re locked into the mentality of the latter two, you’ll end up with a bunch of safe shots that really don’t make you happy … at least, that’s how I felt driving back home later that night.

Prep sports was always a passion of mine in Paris and Columbia. The little I get to shoot here is fun, too — don’t get me wrong — but I do miss how much I used to have to shoot before. I mean it’s like all I shot for what felt like (and was) years.

Something about the bad light, the quirky action, even the simple frustration of just trying to track down rosters. Something about that experience as a whole really pushed me to make frames for me; pushed me to think “out of the box (or in this case, field)” as often as possible.

Suffice to say prep sports really shaped the shooter I am today … or maybe was when I first got here. It’s too bad the high school season is over, because I really feel like I could use that old school kick in the ass.

I’m back on the night sked now, which basically means Rangers and general miscellany. Maybe I’ll try to use this time to rethink what it was that drove me to make images that made me happy (aside from the goofy features stuff that still does and always will). I’m thankful to be on the positive mental side of a rough handful of months. I feel as such, anyway — time to start acting like it, too.

Enough talk. Photos now. The kids in gray (Carrolton) handed last year’s division champs (Plano West, in the blue) one hell of an upset. Down to the wire — 4-3 win at the end of seven innings (Plano West was the home team and lost on a outfield catch/double play).

Good game.

So, probably much to my mother’s chagrin, I’m not much of a practicing Catholic these days. Years ago I may have described myself as a “Cafeteria Catholic,” but of late, I’m barely that.

I try to keep things simple and abide, mostly, by the whole “Golden Rule” thing. And with that, I don’t just do it because I expect some sort reward (whether that’s in this life or whatever’s next); I just do it because it’s the right thing to do.

Having said that, there are a few “holdovers” I have from my old faith. I dig the whole patron saints idea, and I’m constantly amused by how specialized some of their causes are …

[a few of my favorites]

- St. Rene Goupil, patron saint of anesthetists (it is an important job, I guess)

- St. Isidore of Seville, patron saint of computers (and here I though they were just godless robots)

- St. Joseph, patron saint of ‘happy death’ (???)

- And my all-time favorite … St. Benedict, patron saint of poisoning (do you pray to him before or after swallowing the Ipecac??)

Seriously, though, I actually do believe in that stuff. For the last few year’s I’ve carried a little card and locket of St. Christopher (motorists) in my wallet (drivers in this town are terrible). My mom gave it to me. She also gave me a little card for St. Francis de Sales (writers), which I keep pinned to my desk. And lest we forget, I probably contact St. Anthony of Padua like once or twice a day, since I lose just about everything I own.

The other holdover I have is Lent. Every year, without fail (pretty much), I’ve given up something, as well as do the whole fasting and no meat on Fridays deal. Ironically, I’ve actually stuck to things more as I’ve grown away from the Church a little. Go figure.

The last few years I’ve really stepped up my game and tried to use the 40 days to “give up” really hard stuff. I think, honestly, that I enjoy the challenge. I don’t know for sure that I believe in the whole atonement aspect of the exercise; I just think it’s something to do. Hopefully that doesn’t sound as bad as I think it does …

So coming up with something this Lenten season wasn’t easy. A few years ago I gave up beer — that was tough. I don’t really drink any more, so I didn’t think it a viable option. I also thought about coffee, but I really cut back on that a while ago for health reasons (more on that another time), so I wasn’t sure it would be that much of a challenge, either.

And then it hit me …

Without a doubt, one of my bigger indulgences is what my local grocer defines as “Salty Snacks” and keeps in Aisle Five … pretzels, crackers, chips, etc.

Now I’m more of a tortilla chip person than straight up potato chip kind of guy, but that’s more because I’ve deluded myself into thinking that the former is somehow “not as bad” for me. Seriously, if I let myself go, dinner would likely be a bag of Cheetos … every … night.

My close friends, former roommates (and of course, Michelle) know all too well about my “salt thing.” I don’t do chocolate. I’m not a big fan of sweets. But, produce a box of Triscuits or bag of Snyder’s Sourdough Nibblers (my current favorite), and I’ll tear through without second thought.

And just in case you don’t take me seriously about the tenacity of my salt desires, let’s discuss what my good friend, Adam, might call my “secret shame” …

Tortilla chips and mustard.

That’s right … you heard me …

I’m not entirely sure there’s anything saltier than this, but I know, deep down inside, that’s why I love it so. I’ll do the same thing with mustard and crackers, but for the most part, a nice, corn tortilla chip (prefer white, but yellow if fine, too) is my vessel if choice for mustard intake. Funny thing, too, is that Michelle often wonders aloud how we go through mustard so quickly in this house.

Guilty as charged …

So, my friends, starting today, no more salty snacks. No more handfuls of pretzels. No more crackers and cheese. No more (sigh) tortilla chips and mustard. From here on out (or at least, for the next 40 days), if I need to munch, I’ll either suck it up and go without, or reach for the fridge crisper and pull out a carrot.

And what about yesterday? Well, I had to send off my salt cravings the right way, no? I give you, my “super secret shame” …

Crushed tortilla chips, mustard (two kinds!!), and hot sauce, for good measure — all eaten with fork, usually out of a bowl (have eaten out of a large mug before, too). I had some Cholula on hand (the most wonderful, saltiest substance known to man), but in a pinch, I’ve used Sriracha before. Now that shit is HOT … and salty of course …

So anyway, let’s see how it goes … I’ve been surprisingly good about the whole not drinking thing. Same goes for the lessening of caffeine intake. Both have done wonders for my blood pressure (again, I’ll get back to that in a later entry), so there’s no doubt a lowering of my salt intake will help tremendously, too.

Now I can’t lie, of course. Come Saturday, April 11th, I’m sure a big bag of pretzels will magically appear in my pantry. Hopefully, though, I’ll have learned a little moderation by then.

But I make no promises …

- gerry -

Right now I’m in the middle (well, more like sloooow beginning) of a personal project that has me lugging boxes back and forth from my desk at the DMN to my car, just about every day. No biggie, right? Wrong.

I started doing this (the box part) a couple weeks ago; coincidentally, about the time the talk of our latest RIF (reduction in force) started up. Being a relative newbie to the corporate world, I didn’t really grasp the unspoken message that a “box full of stuff” conveys to a group of people fearing for their jobs.

Judging from the “Satellite View” on Google Maps, the walk from our “PHOTO” parking spots in the back-lot garage to the loading dock entrance at the Morning News building is about 700 feet. From there, it’s a quick ride up to the third floor via the elevators, then maybe another 100-150 feet to my desk.

Along that walk, I’ll probably run into 5-10 people, on an average day. Some I know, others I do not. By now, the sight of me, box in hand, has probably become commonplace. In the beginning, though, the range of looks I got was so crazy I started to wish I could somehow secretly take a photo of each person’s face for my own selfish, documentary purposes (would have probably made this blog post a lot more interesting, too).

The usual look I received was just one of confusion. A sort of, “Hey, wait a minute … what the hell?” The latest box I’ve been using (pictured) came from the post office and has my last name across it. This has made an interesting variation of looks, too, as I can see people accessing their “mental Rolodex” to figure out what McCarthy’s they may know …

Probably the most intense looks have been this weird combination of panic and fear. “My God … today is the day, isn’t it!?” their wild eyes will ask, darting back and forth between the box in arms and my own eyes, too. I’ve even received a few “Poor bastard,” looks, for good measure. With those, I’ll usually play along a little. “Thanks so much — stay strong!” my little half nod says back.

One day, I was waiting on the third floor to catch the elevator down when a colleague I recognized from a couple of employee meetings came and stood next to me, presumably waiting for the same, uncharacteristically tardy elevator I too was expecting.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed him glancing at the box, which is usually filled with a very random assortment of items (I’ll chat about this at a later date). Wanting to do something a little different, I turned and looked at him, then down to the box, then back up again.

“Oh, I’m just practicing for the big day,” I dead-panned. He let out a small, nervous chuckle. “Yep,” I went on, “lift with the knees, lift with the knees — last thing I want to do is throw my back out on the very day I lose my health insurance.”

Silence. Stare straight ahead. Elevator bell dings, we both go inside. More silence.

“Well, see you later,” we both communicate to one-another with quick head nods as the first floor comes into view through sliding metal doors.

Awkward walk back to the car. Along the way, new faces with the same confused looks. Start the engine. Wave at the security guard on the way out.

Red light at Reunion. Traffic jam on Woodall. Home is another 30 minutes down US-75. Tomorrow is another day.