The above picture was taken in an elevator in the building where I work. The thing that makes me laugh about this sign is that it just so happens that quite a few people suffering from various mental illnesses have occasion to come in to the building on a daily basis. I know it isn’t a real plus karmically, but I get a strange pleasure out of imagining the effect that this little hastily printed sign has on those who are afflicted with various forms of paranoia.
On New Year’s Eve, the coffee shop that we usually go to near the office was closed. Despite the impending festivities, it was a crazy busy day for Spouse and I, and at some point it became necessary to make a caffeine run. I headed out the door, a little off the routes that I would habitually have occasion to pass along, and loaded up on Tim Horton’s steeped tea for Spouse and I, as well as a few other souls also unlucky enough to be in the office.
As I retraced my steps through the frigid December air, hands full of the supplies I had been sent to retrieve, I had passed by the City of Hamilton’s public nativity display in Gore Park. As I’ve already said, it was a busy day and I had about six trillion other things on my mind; I was in one of those mindsets that I get into when I have a lot of tasks to accomplish in a short period of time and I’m afraid of getting off schedule and causing complications further on down the line. Single-minded, laden with cups of tea and timbits and striding purposefully back to work, I only half-noticed the display out of the corner of my eye. I had completely passed the display and was just stepping into the street when what I had seen scrambled up out of my subconscious and screamed at me to do a double-take. I stopped, turned around and walked back and couldn’t stop laughing when my second look confirmed what my peripheral vision had told me was there. As pressed for time as I was, and even though it was difficult to juggle about forty-five cups of tea while I fished my iPhone out of my pocket and got the camera app ready to go, I just had to take a picture:
“…and in the darkness shineth
an everlasting light…”
Next step in Hamilton’s war against magi thieves? Three words: “booby-trapped Balthasar.” Can’t be too careful with all that gold, frankincense and myrrh laying about.
This photograph is a composite of at least five separate images taken with my iPhone and automatically stitched together with the application “autostitch”. It’s a view from the bridge over the pond in Centennial Park, looking west towards Northumberland street.
I am amazed at the job this application did. I literally just cranked off five photographs, then downloaded the app, put them in its little buffer and clicked one button. It whirred and gurgled away for a few minutes (actually, it just sat there silently cogitating, but the whirring and gurgling is much more exciting) and bingo bango bongo, you’ve got yourself a beautiful panorama. Amazing. The little iPhone is consistently making me want to take a time machine back to 1984 and trash talk my Commodore 64 big time as a worthless underachieving pile of silicon claptrap. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a “time travel” app available from iTunes…
Here’s the satellite photo of the area depicted in the above photo.:
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