Here are links I found interesting on April 19, 2011:
I think so.
This morning, while going through the tweets in my Twitter stream that had arrived overnight, I stumbled upon a MacObserver article that discussed the iPhone becoming the top “camera” on Flickr. (I have my own opinions on that factoid, which I left as a comment on that post; it’s not a favorable commentary on Flickr users.) That post linked to a far more interesting one by Ted Landau titled “A Dozen Devices the iPhone is Killing.” In it, Ted discusses how features in the iPhone that duplicate those in stand-alone devices are making those devices redundant or simply not necessary.
As I commented on that post, Ted is right on target with the GPS analysis. I’ve been using various GPS tracking apps on my iPhone for a while now and am super-impressed with the results. The first one I tried was the $2 GPSTrack app, which I wrote about here. Since then, I’ve also played with GPSLite, a free app that does much the same and more for free (which an interface I find a bit too complex for everyday use). My goals with apps like these is to create track logs and trip computer data for flights and for geotagging photos.
Although I’m not fond of turn-by-turn navigation, I know there are plenty of apps that do this, too. So, as Ted pointed out, in-car GPS navigation systems can also be replaced by an iPhone.
ForeFlight runs on my iPhone and includes not only GPS capabilities, but flight planning, weather, airport information, and more.
For pilots, a great app called ForeFlight, which works on both iPhone and iPad, offers better functionality than the $12,000 panel-mount Garmin GPS in my helicopter. Rather than view my location on a primitive screen display, I can see it on an actual aeronautical chart. I can also download charts and other information in advance so there’s no need to rely on 3G connectivity in flight. If I do have 3G connectivity, I can also get up-to-date weather information in flight. And although the iPhone screen is generally too small for my aging eyes to see the details, the same software works on my iPad — that screen size puts my panel mount system to shame. In fact, ForeFlight is the reason I’m updating to a G3 iPad 2 — that model includes a GPS; my original WiFi iPad does not.
Garmin is apparently trying to play catch-up with this functionality but I don’t think they’ll succeed. Why would someone pay thousands of dollars for a one-trick pony like a panel mount GPS when less than $700 will get you an iPad with GPS and Internet capabilities that can be updated on the fly and do so much more — for example, e-mail, Web browsing, ebook reader, and other apps? Best of all, the FAA is starting to accept apps like Foreflight as “electronic flight bags,” thus making traditionally required documents such as printed charts and flight plans unnecessary. (This is something I hope to blog about in more detail soon.)
Here’s ForeFlight on my iPad. Although this iPad doesn’t have a GPS and can’t do accurate tracking, my iPad 2, which should arrive soon, will.
One thing Ted didn’t mention is the main reason why I don’t like carrying more devices than I have to: batteries and charging. When I go on the road, it seems that my “gadget kit” is filled with cables and charging devices. And spare batteries. What a pain in the butt! Wouldn’t it be nicer to carry just one cable and charger, perhaps with a DC adapter? While it’s true that running a GPS app on an iPhone, especially in tracking mode, sucks battery power more than almost anything else you’re likely to do with the phone, a DC charging device can usually remedy this. Heck, even my helicopter has a DC power port.
At this point, it’s hard to imagine why someone would buy a standalone GPS if they had an iPhone or another smartphone with equally good GPS capabilities. Can you think of a reason?
A New York Times article summarizes my thoughts on smartphone [over]use.
I have a smart phone. I have had one for about five years, starting with a Palm Treo, moving on to a BlackBerry, and now settling in with an iPhone (on Verizon, thank you). The phone has always held useful data, such as my address book and calendar, and starting with the BlackBerry, also gave me access to useful apps such as weather (remember, I’m a pilot, too) and e-mail.
I never really used my smartphone like the true computing device it is — that is, until I got my iPhone. The preponderance of iPhone apps has really helped me take the next step into true mobile handheld computing. I find myself using this phone more than any other I’ve ever owned: consulting the weather, looking up things on Google and the Web, taking photos, tweeting, and yes, even texting.
What I recently discovered, however, is that despite my involvement in the field of computing, I’m rather behind the curve when it comes to smartphone use. I generally use it when I need to and, when I’m not using it, it’s in my pocket on its belt clip. You see, I still think of my phone as a phone. (Imagine that.) Indeed, since we turned off our land lines, it has become my only phone — my only means of verbal communication with people I’m not with. The apps are a sort of bonus — a way to get more information when I need it.
But as I travel about, walking around the Phoenix area, going to restaurants, shopping, and doing things outside my home and office, I’m noticing that more and more people have their phones in their hands with their heads bent over them or their thumbs tapping keyboards or screens wildly. Sometimes they’re doing this while alone, waiting on line to check out or sitting at a sidewalk cafe or even while walking through a mall. But more and more often, they’re doing this while in the company of other people. In fact, I’ve often seen groups of people who are physically together but mentally elsewhere: at least half of them are paying more attention to their phone than their companions.
Two recent experiences really brought this home to me.
One was a photo I saw in The Guardian Eyewitness app on my iPad. This app shows off a daily photo from The Guardian, a UK newspaper. The photo has a caption and a “pro tip” to describe what makes the photograph work from a photographer’s point of view. The idea is that you look at good photos to learn about photography. The photo from April 13, 2011 showed 12 young people standing against a building in front of a memorial pile of flowers. Four (or possibly five) of them are either talking on or looking at their phones. The caption is what makes it so ironic: “Friends of Negus McLean gather at the spot in Edmonton, north London, where the 15-year-old was stabbed to death on Sunday while trying to stop a gang from stealing his brother’s BlackBerry.” I don’t think copyright law allows me to reproduce the photo here, so I suggest you follow this link if you want to see it.
The other was a visit by some friends from out of state who stayed with us for a few days. I don’t consider either of them techies — they just know enough technology to do what they have to do in their normal daily lives. I’m definitely more in tune with computers and mobile devices than either one of them. What really shocked me, then, was their smartphone use. Often, even in the middle of a conversation with me or my husband, one of them would be tapping out some kind of message on his or her smartphone. The phone was usually on the table beside them at meals and was often consulted. One of the phones made a noise every time an incoming message was received — which was quite often. At first, I was appalled by this. But as time passed, I got used to it and accepted it.
Yesterday, while trying to catch up with news via the NYTimes iPad app, I stumbled across an article in the “Most E-Mailed” section that made me question my willingness to accept this kind of behavior. Titled “Keep Your Thumbs Still When I’m Talking to You,” it included this sentence that really sums up the whole situation:
Add one more achievement to the digital revolution: It has made it fashionable to be rude.
How can anyone argue with that?
Because that is what it is: rudeness. If you’re with someone else, in a conversation or at a meal or even waiting in line for a latte at Starbucks, it is rude to shift your attention from that person to your phone for no apparent reason other than to conduct a text conversation with someone else or tweet what you’re doing or even check your e-mail. By ignoring the people you’re with, you’re telling them that your smartphone or whatever is on it is more important than they are.
Is it? If it is, why bother with personal interaction at all?
The article goes on to cite examples of people more interested in their smartphones than what’s going on around them. It also offers this wonderful quote that I’m taking as a word of advice:
…Mr. De Rosa wrote: “I’m fine with people stepping aside to check something, but when I’m standing in front of someone and in the middle of my conversation they whip out their phone, I’ll just stop talking to them and walk away. If they’re going to be rude, I’ll be rude right back.”
Now I know how to handle the folks who find their smartphones more interesting than me.
What do you think?
Here are links I found interesting on April 17, 2011:
Competing with someone I know I can beat: myself.
This photo raised the bar for my landscape photography; I consider it one of my best. (Click for a larger view.)
In 2010, right around this time of year, I took my Jeep and camera out into the desert east of Wickenburg for a bit of what I call photojeeping. Along the way, I made many stops and shot many images of the wildflowers that were in such abundance that day. On that day, I also shot what I still consider to be my best photo.
Let me take a moment to describe what I consider a great photo. Simply put, it needs to meet certain criteria:
While this isn’t a great photo of the Grand Canyon, it does illustrate two points that make it more interesting than the standard straight-on midday shot: composition and light. (Click for a larger view.)
Light. I can’t overstate how vitally important light is for good photography. Consider a subject like the Grand Canyon. Thousands of people visit every day and most of them are clicking away with their cameras. But how many of them are actually making good photos? I’ve been at the Grand Canyon countless times at all times of the day and night. (Have you ever seen the Grand Canyon by the light of a full moon in the winter time, with a blanket of fresh snow on the rim? Try it sometime.) I can assure you that there’s nothing less interesting than a full-frame shot of the canyon taken from the Rim outside Bright Angel Lodge at midday on a perfectly clear day. It looks completely unimpressive and downright flat. Yet that’s what so many people shoot. If you’re serious about photography and making a good picture, you’ll come back when the light is better — low in the sky or maybe filtered between clouds. You’ll let the deep shadows created by nature add depth to the image. You’ll let the golden color of the light add a warm glow to your scene and bring out the natural red color of the canyon walls.
This photo of Antelope Canyon is out of focus and there’s nothing I can do to make it any better. It is and will always be a crap photo.
Mechanics. I’m talking here about basics like focus and exposure. A photo could meet all the other criteria, but if its out of focus or improperly exposed, it fails as a good photo. Let’s face it: if you’re serious about photography, you need to master focus and exposure settings on your camera first, before you spend a lot of time, effort, and perhaps money trying to capture great images.
These are just four of many criteria that can be used to judge the quality of a photographic image. They’re the four top criteria I use when I judge mine.
I realized a while back that I’m in a never-ending photo competition, one where I’m always trying to beat myself. I make what I consider a good (or even great) photo and I then try to make one that’s better.
Sometimes it seems easy. For example, when I shot my Desert Still Life (shown at the top of this post), I was unhappy with the focus. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best it could be. So I figured I’d just go back and try again. Although only two days had passed, the scene was dramatically different; I’d have to wait at least a year to try again. Timing, in this case, was everything. I got lucky for my good shot.
(Permit me to take a moment to critique this photo a bit more. Focus isn’t the only problem. The other problem is the sky: it’s too damn blue. This is a problem we have in Arizona — most days there simply aren’t any clouds in the sky. A few clouds — heck, even a contrail — would have made this photo a lot better. But there’s nothing I could do about that. Sure, if I waited for a partly cloudy day, I could have gotten a better desert scene. But would those cactus flower have been in such spectacular full bloom?)
So now I just try to beat that shot and others I also think are good with new and interesting subjects. It’s tough. Sometimes I’ll be at a place where I think I can pull it off and I wind up walking away with an SD card with a handful of disappointing images. But I don’t give up. And I keep experimenting — mostly to learn what works and what doesn’t.
And I think that’s the only way to improve at anything: to keep trying to be your best. To look at past achievements and work hard to take things to the next level. To learn from experience and experimentation.
Sure, along the way there will be plenty of frustrations. But will there ever be so many that I give up? I don’t think so.
