After an entire summer, I finally bought a new camera. My old camera just couldn't take my abuse anymore. I mean, it couldn't even handle a few drops onto pavement. Sheesh. Well, after borrowing my brother's Canon SD550 during my European escapade, I figured it was a pretty sweet camera. So in the spirit of one-upping him, I decided to get the Canon SD800, which is similar in form and function. Unfortunately, he recently got himself a Canon Rebel digital SLR, which eats point-and-shoots for breakfast. I want to see him try to put that SLR in his pocket, though.
Since I'm going to try to take much better care of this new camera, I'm getting a silicone skin cover for it. It fits snugly over the entire camera to protect it from scratches and such. I found a seller on ebay selling these for $12.98, which isn't bad. But then I searched for skins for the Ixus 850 (which is what the Canon SD800 is called outside of the US), and the same vendor was selling those for $11.24. It's the exact same product! And then I noticed that there were also some listings in British pounds, and those converted into about US $12. Sneaky, huh?
So... after blowing thousands of dollars this summer, I figured saving $1.74 should about make up for my spending.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Jumping Out of Planes and Other Short Stories
I went skydiving yesterday. I'm sure it ranks up there as one of the wildest things I've ever done, alongside cliffdiving and cutting my own hair. Skydiving is one of those things that seems to be on everyone's to-do-before-I-die list. I've never made such a list myself, but if I were to make such a list now, skydiving would be on there because I like making lists just so I can cross things off. It's also one of those things where when I'm 40 and have a job and family, I might not be so prone to say, okay, let's jump out of a plane. So I might as well do it now when I'm young and before my future catches up with me. Or before I catch up with my future, I guess.
I went with a couple of Timmy folks and their friends. I mean, we Timmies have been to Quito, Ecuador, which is at an altitude of about 9000 ft, so what's another couple thousand feet up, eh? Seven of us planned to jump, with one additional person for moral support. We went to a drop zone in Greensburg, IN, which is sort of a rustic area, one might say. Even though we had reservations, there was still quite a wait because the weather was a little shady that morning, which backed up the schedule. After watching an educational video and signing our lives and money away, the guys visited a bowling alley nearby to scope out food while the girls... I don't know what girls do to pass the time... talk? Anyway, this bowling alley was pretty much a bastion of 1970s America. The decor made me glad I overshot that decade by several years.
Back at the drop zone waiting area (which pretty much looked like a converted hangar), we watched in awe as the skydiving instructors came back from a jump, changed parachutes, and ran back out for another jump. The parachute packers were neat to watch, too. I don't know if I could ever pack parachutes for a living, but it'd be a good workout. It seemed like all of the instructors we talked to had thousands of jumps under their belt. One guy said he'd been doing it full time for 14 years, average about 1200 jumps per year. That's at least 16,800 jumps. And they only work 6 months a year.
Since we were all first-timers and didn't want to die, we did tandem jumps where a professional is strapped to your back. They provided optional skydiving suits, so of course I had to wear one for the full experience. Doug, the guy who would be strapped on my back, said his parents jumped recreationally, and he had been doing this professionally for about 6 years. I can't even imagine having parents who skydive recreationally. The most extreme thing my parents do recreationally is read newspapers. I asked Doug about the job itself, and he explained that you have to do 500 jumps to be certified, but once you are, pretty much any drop zone will hire you as an instructor. So if you want a guaranteed job, jump out of a plane 500 times. Piece of cake.
My plane consisted of 5 jumpers, 5 guys-strapped-to-our-backs, a couple cameramen, and one wacky old bearded man who was jumping solo. I wasn't really nervous about the jump, but when the plane started moving it did kind of hit me that, oh yeah, I'm really doing this. When the plane climbed to about 5000 feet, the old bearded man put on a crazy grin, waved, and jumped out. It happened so fast it looked as if he had just been sucked out of the plane.
Of course, when we boarded the plane, the guys-strapped-to-our-backs weren't actually strapped to our backs yet. As we neared our drop altitude, my instructor said to sit on his lap. *Awkward*. But that's how they can get the attachment points secured. And then then they pull the harnesses so tight that it's hard to breathe. When it's jump time, you scoot on your knees to the open door and kind of hang yourself outside the plane while the instructor holds on. So at this point, you're like, hey, clouds, and the only thing keeping you from plummeting are four hooks anchored to some random guy behind you. The part that gets you is you don't know when your instructor is going to let go. A split second later you're tumbling through the heavens at a rate of 9.8 meters per second per second, disregarding air resistance. It was a little disorienting, to say the least. When my instructor brought us into a prone position, the freefall was simply incredible. It's a little hard to describe, but imagine looking out a window of an airplane in flight. And then imagine that the airplane disappears and you're falling! Yeah, it's kind of like that. Or if you've ever played GTA: San Andreas or any other game where you can skydive, it's just like that, except your face is flapping in the wind.
The parachute came out at about 5000 feet. The resistance wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined. I've heard of people getting bruised on their thighs from the pressure of the harness. Then my back-dude released a couple of clips to give us more room to move. He let me steer a little and then took over and threw us into some nonstop 360s that put about 1000 lbs of force on my crotch harness and made me a bit loony. The landing was fairly smooth. I saw one girl who got her knees skinned coming down. The whole experience kind of put rollercoasters to shame. The only bad part was the I got a bit of an altitude headache, which I've had before going to Quito. All the turns coming down made me a little woozy, too. I have a lot of respect for skydivers now. I mean, not that I didn't before, but it definitely takes some mad guts and coordination to do that regularly.
Luckily, my headache didn't last long thanks to painkillers. Food helped, too. We somehow got our server at Chili's to think that one of us was turning 18. Well, it really was this girl's birthday, but she's a postdoc, so... she's a little beyond 18 years old. Good times, though.
We drove back to Indy and I got in a decent nap. Before heading our separate ways, we realized that Incubus was in town and still on stage, so we headed over to White River State Park, and Jared drove around some barricades with his minivan. Classy. We listened outside the fence, and looking for a way to actually see the stage, we wandered around the perimeter and found ourselves by the White River but behind the stage. We couldn't see squat, but at least the acoustics weren't bad. I wish I could have seen the band, but I figured I'd seen them in concert before, and I wasn't about to pay however much for the remaining half hour. I think I'm going to like living by the canal if it means close proximity to concerts. Sitting outside the fence for free isn't too bad, either.
It was getting pretty late by the time we all departed, but I decided to check out my new apartment for next year since I was right there anyway. I also met my roommmate for the first time. From what I've seen so far, it's a really nice setup. My room is massive compared to all the places I've lived in the past four years. I don't really know how to fill all that space. Maybe I'll throw in a couple of couches and a slip-'n'-slide. With my med school loan money, I can start living a doctor's lifestyle! There really is a pool in my backyard. It even looks well-maintained. The only down side to these apartments I've seen first hand is the terrible parking situation. I didn't have a problem finding a spot, but I noticed that some people were parked in spots that weren't really spots, which means at some point during the day parking was really bad. I should invest in one of those tiny Euro cars. I could park one of those under the stairs outside my door.
I got home around 1:30 am. All in all, a pretty awesome day.
I went with a couple of Timmy folks and their friends. I mean, we Timmies have been to Quito, Ecuador, which is at an altitude of about 9000 ft, so what's another couple thousand feet up, eh? Seven of us planned to jump, with one additional person for moral support. We went to a drop zone in Greensburg, IN, which is sort of a rustic area, one might say. Even though we had reservations, there was still quite a wait because the weather was a little shady that morning, which backed up the schedule. After watching an educational video and signing our lives and money away, the guys visited a bowling alley nearby to scope out food while the girls... I don't know what girls do to pass the time... talk? Anyway, this bowling alley was pretty much a bastion of 1970s America. The decor made me glad I overshot that decade by several years.
Back at the drop zone waiting area (which pretty much looked like a converted hangar), we watched in awe as the skydiving instructors came back from a jump, changed parachutes, and ran back out for another jump. The parachute packers were neat to watch, too. I don't know if I could ever pack parachutes for a living, but it'd be a good workout. It seemed like all of the instructors we talked to had thousands of jumps under their belt. One guy said he'd been doing it full time for 14 years, average about 1200 jumps per year. That's at least 16,800 jumps. And they only work 6 months a year.
Since we were all first-timers and didn't want to die, we did tandem jumps where a professional is strapped to your back. They provided optional skydiving suits, so of course I had to wear one for the full experience. Doug, the guy who would be strapped on my back, said his parents jumped recreationally, and he had been doing this professionally for about 6 years. I can't even imagine having parents who skydive recreationally. The most extreme thing my parents do recreationally is read newspapers. I asked Doug about the job itself, and he explained that you have to do 500 jumps to be certified, but once you are, pretty much any drop zone will hire you as an instructor. So if you want a guaranteed job, jump out of a plane 500 times. Piece of cake.
My plane consisted of 5 jumpers, 5 guys-strapped-to-our-backs, a couple cameramen, and one wacky old bearded man who was jumping solo. I wasn't really nervous about the jump, but when the plane started moving it did kind of hit me that, oh yeah, I'm really doing this. When the plane climbed to about 5000 feet, the old bearded man put on a crazy grin, waved, and jumped out. It happened so fast it looked as if he had just been sucked out of the plane.
Of course, when we boarded the plane, the guys-strapped-to-our-backs weren't actually strapped to our backs yet. As we neared our drop altitude, my instructor said to sit on his lap. *Awkward*. But that's how they can get the attachment points secured. And then then they pull the harnesses so tight that it's hard to breathe. When it's jump time, you scoot on your knees to the open door and kind of hang yourself outside the plane while the instructor holds on. So at this point, you're like, hey, clouds, and the only thing keeping you from plummeting are four hooks anchored to some random guy behind you. The part that gets you is you don't know when your instructor is going to let go. A split second later you're tumbling through the heavens at a rate of 9.8 meters per second per second, disregarding air resistance. It was a little disorienting, to say the least. When my instructor brought us into a prone position, the freefall was simply incredible. It's a little hard to describe, but imagine looking out a window of an airplane in flight. And then imagine that the airplane disappears and you're falling! Yeah, it's kind of like that. Or if you've ever played GTA: San Andreas or any other game where you can skydive, it's just like that, except your face is flapping in the wind.
The parachute came out at about 5000 feet. The resistance wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined. I've heard of people getting bruised on their thighs from the pressure of the harness. Then my back-dude released a couple of clips to give us more room to move. He let me steer a little and then took over and threw us into some nonstop 360s that put about 1000 lbs of force on my crotch harness and made me a bit loony. The landing was fairly smooth. I saw one girl who got her knees skinned coming down. The whole experience kind of put rollercoasters to shame. The only bad part was the I got a bit of an altitude headache, which I've had before going to Quito. All the turns coming down made me a little woozy, too. I have a lot of respect for skydivers now. I mean, not that I didn't before, but it definitely takes some mad guts and coordination to do that regularly.
Luckily, my headache didn't last long thanks to painkillers. Food helped, too. We somehow got our server at Chili's to think that one of us was turning 18. Well, it really was this girl's birthday, but she's a postdoc, so... she's a little beyond 18 years old. Good times, though.
We drove back to Indy and I got in a decent nap. Before heading our separate ways, we realized that Incubus was in town and still on stage, so we headed over to White River State Park, and Jared drove around some barricades with his minivan. Classy. We listened outside the fence, and looking for a way to actually see the stage, we wandered around the perimeter and found ourselves by the White River but behind the stage. We couldn't see squat, but at least the acoustics weren't bad. I wish I could have seen the band, but I figured I'd seen them in concert before, and I wasn't about to pay however much for the remaining half hour. I think I'm going to like living by the canal if it means close proximity to concerts. Sitting outside the fence for free isn't too bad, either.
It was getting pretty late by the time we all departed, but I decided to check out my new apartment for next year since I was right there anyway. I also met my roommmate for the first time. From what I've seen so far, it's a really nice setup. My room is massive compared to all the places I've lived in the past four years. I don't really know how to fill all that space. Maybe I'll throw in a couple of couches and a slip-'n'-slide. With my med school loan money, I can start living a doctor's lifestyle! There really is a pool in my backyard. It even looks well-maintained. The only down side to these apartments I've seen first hand is the terrible parking situation. I didn't have a problem finding a spot, but I noticed that some people were parked in spots that weren't really spots, which means at some point during the day parking was really bad. I should invest in one of those tiny Euro cars. I could park one of those under the stairs outside my door.
I got home around 1:30 am. All in all, a pretty awesome day.
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