One Degree Project

I’ve been thinking about starting a little project – a project to document the people in my life. Not the obvious close people though – all the miscellaneous people we all interact with but don’t really know at all. People like your waitress at a restaurant, the person who cuts your hair, the attendant at the gas station.
It reminds me of the old “6 degrees of Kevin Bacon” game, so maybe I should call it the “One Degree Project”. Here’s the draft rules I think I’ll start with:

  1. You have to talk to the person, no shots of random people in the mall, on the train, etc.
  2. Take a photo of the person with their consent. (Preferably in context.)
  3. The photo has to be labeled with a first name and a description of the context.

Movable Type Pages

I’m generally pretty happy with Movable Type (my blogging software), but I’ve spent an hour today trying to get the “Pages” area to populate correctly and it just isn’t working. This is obviously a bug, which I suppose means I should upgrade to the latest version. But I’m too damn busy to be wading into an upgrade right now. So I guess the pages will just go un-linked for the time being. :-/

Grandad Hagan

My grandfather passed away this last weekend. This was the culmination of a long down-hill trip over the last few years. It was hard to see him at our last Christmas party. He was so withdrawn and disconnected – a shell of the man I knew growing up.
But in my memories he’ll always be the Grandad Hagan from years ago. Living in the house on the hill over the interstate. Playing with the weimaraners. Cooking incredible filet mignon. Playing old LPs on the stereo. I remember sitting in his house and looking at the huge grandfather clock that had a face that told the phases of the moon, not just the time of day. My brothers and I used to play with plastic soldiers in the hills around the end of his driveway. We would dig through the cabinets in his living room and pull out board games and puzzles and science novelties to our hearts content.
Grandma Hagan passed away a long time ago. Going to her funeral is the earliest memory I have of really meeting death in person. I don’t think it gets any easier to say good bye to family or friends. When I help carry Grandad out of church for the last time on Wednesday, it will be a sad goodbye. But he will live on in our memories, which I think is all any of us can hope for.