Tag: Ocean Beach

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Don’t Drive Plastered

Is there some metaphor or deliberate message here? Hodad’s is a popular burger joint in Ocean Beach, Calif.—if the persistent waiting lines are any indication (unless seating is inadequate; I wouldn’t know). As you can see from the Featured Image, the restaurant’s vintage Volkswagen minivan is plastered with stickers, such that anyone sensible shouldn’t drive it. Safety first!

The eatery also sells craft beer. Being plastered is a euphemism for intoxication, in which state no responsible person should be behind the wheel of a vehicle. So is it coincidence that a place that brews beer parks its plastered VW nearby? I should have asked someone when in OB on Nov. 17, 2021 carrying Leica Q2. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 12:30 p.m. PST.

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What ‘Shot on iPhone’ Means to Me

The Featured Image demonstrates some of iPhone 13 Pro‘s photographic limitations. I used the telephoto lens for this pic of surfers and the San Diego coastline from Ocean Beach Pier, today. The small sensor simply can’t capture crisp detail the way a real camera can. For comparison, consider this surfer shot, which I took using Fujifilm X100F on April 1, 2017; see post “A Day at the (Pacific) Beach“.

The X100F packs an APC-S sensor and my Leica Q2 a full-frame, which capture greater detail, more light, and superior dynamic range. Apple promotes “Shot on iPhone”, which is a clever marketing campaign. Unquestionably, capable hands can produce some stunning photography from the smartphone. But the physics favor the cameras. Biology is analogy enough. Someone 2 meters (6 feet, 6 inches) tall could easily outplay someone my height—1.7 meters (5 feet, 6 inches)—on the basketball court. Height and reach are advantages, like larger electronic sensors.

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Protesting Greenpeace?

The weather is perfect here in San Diego—what my wife and I call a Maine Day: 22 degrees Celsius and breezy. We hauled off to Ocean Beach, where navigating people busking or begging for money takes almost as much talent as negotiating a kayak through rocky rapids. Sure enough, I looked left and missed the approaching, friendly fundraiser from the right. Smack!

The singing circle of happy people distracted me. Oh no! Greenpeace? Again? Just cut an artery why don’t they and bleed me? But this dude—the one holding the yellow sign—had a different pitch. Greenpeace hires for two-week jaunts, he claimed, and those who don’t meet their quotas are dismissed from service. There be women with kids about to lose their livelihood. Yikes! The small cadre raised money against Greenpeace.