photo credit: j wynia

When my grandparents on the Wynia side moved out of the farmhouse and into senior/assisted/nursing homes, a lot of their things were spread to various family members. We all went to the house and the question was posed whether we wanted any of their stuff (yes, those kinds of moments are weird).

Many members of the family had always wanted the china or the old baby buggy, etc. When I was asked, I thought back to Grandpa's slideshows, in the dark, those old images up on the screen. I asked if I could have the slides. There was a strange look and I remember someone asking if that was really all I wanted. I said "Yes" and have had those big boxes for several years.

I started scanning them a couple of different times, but life got in the way. However a month or 2 ago, I decided I needed to get back on it and committed to getting them all scanned. I've been slowly and steadily working my through the boxes in my evenings and weekends for the past couple of weeks as well as figuring out and improving the workflow for scanning them.

At first, I had hoped to use my Mac to do the scanning, in large part because I do like Applescript for chaining things like Photoshop together with other apps in a workflow as well as easily attaching actions to folders. Alas, my slide scanner (the one with 7200dpi optical resolution) does NOT work with anything but Windows.

So, I set things up on Windows, with a Photoshop macro to do the triggering of the TWAIN driver and capturing the image and an Autohotkey text snippet to uniquely name the output files with a timestamp. Autohotkey does a pretty good job of that sort of thing. You can either have a keystroke like CTRL+ALT+T that spits out a chunk of text or an abbreviation that always gets replaced when you type it, no matter where. If it wasn't obvious, you want to be careful you don't name your abbreviations into something that might get triggered by accident.

For this one, I just used this one line in an .ahk for CTRL+ALT+T inserting the current timestamp. I hit that key chord when Photoshop prompts for a name.

^!t::Send, %A_Now%

Makes the whole process a series of quick actions, punctuated by waiting for the scanner to do its thing. Click. Wait. Punch the naming chord and Enter. Wait. Repeat.

Now, I can't move on from the scanning without mentioning something that I find puzzling. From all appearances, scanning software and drivers appear to be written on The Island that Time Forgot.

I bought my first scanner in 1994 for something like $300. It was a little handheld gizmo that did all of 256 shades of gray. The software that came with it for Windows 3.1 looked like nearly everything else that year. It had that look of "multimedia CD-ROM" that was all the rage.

What's strange is that with 4 scanners in my office right now, all of the software that came with it looks almost exactly the same and has the same kind of crappy problems. These apps (it should be noted that this is on the Windows side of things. It's better on Mac and even Linux) do things like lock the mouse during the nearly 1 minute the scan actually takes, put progress windows on top of everything else and ensure that you can't minimize it, etc. All of this TWAIN stuff has the same big buttons with crude bevels and horrible usability.

It really seems like they keep TWAIN driver developers isolated from the rest of the world on some island. Every year, they ship a new batch of scanners and requirements to the island and get back a bunch of drivers on CD. They're somehow given copies of Windows stripped of all modern interfaces and keep using the same tools.

I'll grant you that Windows Image Acquisition (WIA) makes that much simpler. Unfortunately, a 3000 dpi scan of 35mm slide film isn't one of the handy presets and WIA doesn't provide a box to enter the DPI, even if the scanner supports more than the maximum in the drop down.

Digressions aside, scanning these images at nice, high resolution and staring into the past prompted further questions about family's history. After being tempted several times before, I finally registered for the 14 day trial at Ancestry.com.

The site has a couple of nice features, even if the workflow is a bit stilted. As you add people to your family tree, it marks people where they have information that might be attached to that person. You click, examine that information and decide to attach the info or ignore it.

The stilted workflow comes in that it always seems like the thing I'm trying to do next isn't on the screen anywhere or in the place I last used it.

However, the evidence from the few hours I've put into it over the past week or 2 speaks to its effectiveness in spite of those glitches. I've got 577 people added to my family tree and one chain of ancestors that goes back 13 generations to someone born in 1360 in "Warga, Boarnsterhim, Friesland, Netherlands". (Nearly 100% of my tree so far leads straight back to the Netherlands).

1. J Wynia
2. Louis Wynia Jr.
3. Louis S Wynia
4. Sam Wynia
5. Suster DeVries
6. Johanna Wynia
7. Eeltje S Wynia
8. S Jans or Wijnia
9. Foekes or Wijnia
10. Sijtses or Nijda
11. S Sijes or Nijdam
12. Willems or Nijda
13. Willem W Nijdam
14. Willem W Nijdam
15. Sijts Ids
16. S Van Idsinga
17. Ferckje G Aytta
18. Gerbeth Aytta - b1360

I can definitely see how sites like Ancestry.com have consumed all of the hobby time for a lot of folks. This is definitely some interesting stuff to dig through. If you've ever been curious yourself, it's worth checking out.

On May 23, back in 1998,I stood out on a wooded hill behind a church in New London, MN. I actually spent quite a bit of time waiting on that hill that day. First to see Shelly for the first time in her dress. Because the whole modern picture taking tradition has pretty much taken away the special moment of seeing each other for the first time, we carved out time specifically for that on the hill before photography.

Later, I stood on that hill alone, waiting to go into the side of the sanctuary for the ceremony from outside. The music seeped through the windows and a crack in the door and it all started being very real to me.

Now, 10 years later, many of the details of that day: the ceremony, the dinner and reception, the dance in the barn are all still vivid. The day both seems as only yesterday and a long time ago.

That one specific day is something we celebrate each year as its anniversary passes. However, that one day actually fades in the face of the ~3650 that we've spent since as husband and wife.

We've lived in many places, had some of the sickness and the health, been richer and poorer and had our fair share of better and of worse. We've both remained stubborn in some habits and personality traits and changed wildly in others.

In the vows I wrote for my part in the ceremony, I talked about how we were poised at the beginning of a journey as traveling companions. Now, 10 years later, I can say that, with a good start on that journey, I could have no better person with whom to share the trek and I'm looking forward to where the next 10 years and beyond bring us.

Photo: raemin Zhang

I'm reading a lot over the last couple of weeks about the memoir as a form of writing. While I'm not planning on writing one myself, there is a reason behind this newfound interest: my project Rememoir. That's the thing I mentioned a few days ago as a project I'm excited about. I'm doing a lot of reading about them because the project is centered around helping people write and publish their memoirs.

I think it will be interesting technologically, but will be even more interesting from a "story" perspective. Creating a place for people to specifically share their personal story intrigues me. I really like the idea of helping people through that process. I think it's that whole combination that has me excited about the project.

One of the things I've been reading to have a better understanding of memoirs and what makes them tick is "Inventing the Truth", edited by William Zinsser. I've only just started it, but the intro essay is triggering lots of colliding thoughts.

2 topics are mentioned in that intro essay are things that have been recurring themes in my life. One of those is the nature of truth, especially how it relates to memory. Zinsser talks about the respective reactions he and his mother had to his writing about his childhood. He wrote it and remembered it as being a lonely childhood, which surprised and saddened his mother, who remembered his childhood as being positive and happy.

He wonders about which vision of his past is infused with more truth. Did his mother just not notice his loneliness or has his memory blown it out of proportion? In my own life, I've become aware of this exact thing. Memories that I remember painfully because of the activity involved are cherished by my dad because they were with me.

Even thinking about some of those now grabs at my heart. I tears me up that my memory and sharing it could actually disturb some of his favorite memories. At the same time, there are some of my most treasured memories that I've found are either completely unknown to my parents or that I've clearly remembered them in a much better light than they actually happened.

I'm intrigued by this whole mess and how the importance of those memories to us affects and determines just how true they are. One of the passages from "The Things They Carried" is that the some of the truest stories never happened and there's some stuff that happened that's not true.

A true story that never happened is a grenade landing on the ground and a guy jumps on it and dies saving his buddies. That's a true story. What really happened is that the guy jumped on the grenade and they all died anyway.

What that says about truth is complicated and hard to articulate, but resonant nonetheless.

The other topic that jumped out at me was Zinsser's description of humor as the "universal solvent". That is a great turn of phrase to describe how I feel about humor. It does act as a solvent, dissolving tensions, fear, unease, etc. That kind of humor has been a constant part of my life as a method of dealing with pain and frustration, showing up in some fairly dark humor. People close to me can attest that the bigger the tragedy or pain, the more likely I am to use humor to deal with it.

I'm not alone. That's pretty much the culture of my family and probably one of the reasons I like dark humor as a tension release in really tense moments in movies. It just works.

All of this has me in a reflective state. I'm not planning on writing a memoir, but thinking about helping other people do just that, you can't help but think about the important moments in your own life and how you'd characterize them. How many of my memories are true, how many actually happened, how many of the painful moments were punctuated with humor and how many remain stark and without the dissolving power of a good laugh.

Yesterday, Shelly left for Cedar Rapids to spend some time with her extended family and attend her cousin's graduation, which leaves just me and the dogs to hold down the fort this weekend.

I'm a Myers-Briggs introvert. Lots of people are surprised by that because I'm loud and enjoy talking. However, much of the reading I've done on the difference is more about whether being with other people recharges or drains you.

I'm married to an extrovert (we balance each other well). When we go out and spend time with 10-12 friends, she comes home energized and talking about it. I need some time alone to recharge.

At any rate, that means that, while I would never volunteer to spend *all* of my time alone, a weekend here and there is just what the doctor ordered. So, it's me, the home theater, the grill and my laptop and maybe a meal with a friend until Sunday night.

I'm working on a CakePHP project that holds some promise as a commercial product/service. It combines 2 of the things I love: writing and technology. It also targets a potentially lucrative target market: retiring baby boomers. It has no real start up costs other than time building the software and writing the content and the results of the service would be a net gain society (do no evil). I really think this could work.

This is not a billion dollar idea or even necessarily a million dollar idea, but then again, a mere extra $215,000 over the next 10 years would pay off my house. An extra $5000 a year would mean a fabulous vacation. An extra $10,000 a year could mean taking a couple of months off.

The last time I took a stab at the product/service market directly, I was too focused on trying to make a $60,000+ living out of the idea. As a result, a product that was making $30,000/year was a "failure". This time around, I'm not going to do that. I *never* want this thing to be my fulltime job. Just think of the difference between winning $10,000 in the lottery this year and making $10,000 this year as your job. One feels like a lot of money, the other is poverty.

I'm holding back the details of the project itself until I'm a little further along, but I'm really excited about this particular project. If you want to know more about it, send me an email or talk to me offline.

Photo: Phillip Capper

Earlier this week, Shelly and I were discussing our upcoming trip to Ireland. I mentioned that I'd done a bit of digging on airfare and had found some pretty good deals that got our tickets into the $750 range.

"Those are coach tickets, right?", she asked.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't they be?", I responded.

"Because we're flying to Ireland in first class. I thought we talked about this.", she continued.

I'm not sure exactly what she said immediately after that because there was this loud buzzing sound in my head that kind of muffled what she said. I think the buzzing came from the giant flying dollar signs that were whizzing around my head at the time.

As the buzzing subsided, I rejoined the conversation.

"…because I'm OK with flying coach here in the US, but for a long flight across the Atlantic, I want something like British Airways first class. You know, with the beds…"

The whizzing dollar signs were back. I didn't notice the teeth before.

I objected strenuously, indicating my complete unwillingness to go along with this particular preference. I then moved on, in completely predictable fashion, to cite the actual cost of such flights (anywhere from $3,000 to $11,000 per seat) in comparison to other things in our lives (like the fact that we only paid $6500 for my truck 4 years ago).

The argument continued until we went to bed and I dreamed about the whizzing dollar signs devouring our life savings. I spent much of my "break" times during the following day building a case against this extravagance: comparison flight prices, other things we could buy instead of that flight, things we could do *on* the vacation with the same money, etc.

In short, I was preparing to go to war over first class airfare. I went home with all of my ammunition, prepared to dig a trench and start firing.

We sat down to dinner and I launched into my prepared tirade. I got maybe 2 sentences into my speech when Shelly interrupted me.

"You know I was just messing with you, right?"

The whizzing dollar signs fell to the floor. She knew me well enough to pick something that would really get to me and used it to reel me in. I completely fell for it.

First class airfare is one of those things where even if I had $300 million in the bank, I still wouldn't pay for. The idea of paying $2500 to sit in a bigger chair for 10 hours just doesn't make sense to me on any level except complete extravagance. She knew that.

We joke around and tease a lot here. Usually, Shelly's teasing is on a small scale, but this time she brought out the big guns and won in a huge way.