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It's a classic scene: after a prolonged battle the hero finally has the stylish villain cornered atop a high tower. The hero's reinforcements are finally arriving and the villain know that even if he defeats the hero, his schemes are thwarted. Rather than surrender, the villain salutes the hero, says "You win this round, but We Will Meet Again" and then leaps out of a window into a convenient body of Soft Water and swims away, as the hero considers going after him but decides against it.
To qualify as a High Dive Escape, a Worthy Opponent (usually a stylish villain or rogueish hero) should be facing certain capture or death but instead escape by leaping from a high place into water, thus living to fight another day.
When a villain goes out with guns blazing rather than be apprehended, it's Better to Die than Be Killed.
A subtrope of No Escape but Down and sister trope of Suicidal "Gotcha!".
- Shingetsutan Tsukihime: After knocking about most of the cast with ease, the Big Bad inexplicably declares "We Will Meet Again" and falls backwards off a bridge while laughing madly.
- Anti-Villain example doing this against Villains in Fullmetal Alchemist. Greed is cornered by Envy and Sloth, and declaring that he wouldn't be stupid enough to fight two homonculi at once, jumps to a convenient boat below carrying his minions.
- Sync in the Tales of the Abyss anime after his mask breaks.
- Jon Sable does it Jon Sable, Freelance #49 in a story that was an homage to The Prisoner of Zenda. Jon claims the opportunity to make this kind of exit is irresistible, and chooses to leap from a tower window into the moat rather than stick around and explain to the authorities what was going on.
- Comics example: in the DC Universe, Batman foe Michael Baffle (who was intended to be a recurring character but was never brought back) escapes Batman this way after a fencing duel in Detective Comics #63. He leaps off the roof a castle (transported stone by stone from Europe and reassembled in Gotham City) into a nearby lake.
- Armando does it to escape from Trebaldi's castle in Le Scorpion. He dives from Trebaldi's clifftop castle into the river at the base of the cliff with an unconscious Mejai slung over his back.
- In IDW's G.I. Joe, Major Bludd does this this to escape the Baroness after his attempted coup is uncovered; plunging off a cliff into the ocean. The pursuing Cobra troops search for him but cannot find him.
- One of the crew of the Alexandria does this in Steampunk Halloween 2012, escaping from the Doge's palace in Venice by leaping in a canal in the remains of her costume, which mostly consists of lingerie by this point.
- In Danger Girl: Renegade #1, Abbey is cornered by Anastasia and her headhunter allies atop a cliff in the jungle. She escapes by diving off the cliff into the river below. However, the stretch of river she jumps into is infested with crocodiles.
- In Robyn Hood: I Love NY # 11, a wounded Robyn escapes from Alina Rose by jumping through the closed window of a warehouse into the river.
- In The Witch of the Everfree, Sunset Shimmer pulls one to get away from the guards who have her cornered on the train to Ponyville, teleporting off the train as it crosses a high bridge.
- Syndrome attempts a variation of this at the end of The Incredibles. It doesn't work, mostly because the hero isn't in the mood to just let him get away.
- Finn McMissile jumps off an offshore oil rig in Cars 2.
- Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket escape Pleasure Island by jumping off a cliff into the sea below.
- In Robin Hood, Robin leaps from the roof of the burning castle into the moat.
- Justine de Winter in the film The Return of the Musketeers. She dives out of the castle window into a lake and is last seen swimming away. Raoul starts to follow her but is stopped by D'Artagnan.
"Do you really want to go after her, boy? Because - by God - I don't!"
- Parodied in the film The Great Race, as part of an extended, almost scene-by-scene parody of The Prisoner of Zenda. The Great Leslie is dueling with Baron von Stuppe. When the Baron realizes that Leslie is the superior swordsman, he breaks off the fight and quips "He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day", adds a We Will Meet Again, mentions he has a boat waiting for him, and jumps out the window. Unfortunately the boat is right under the window, and the Baron smashes through the boat and sinks it.
- Pirates of the Caribbean
- Jack Sparrow's escape from his execution when he trips and falls from the fort into the ocean in The Curse of the Black Pearl. However, he was almost certainly planning to dive before he fell. Norrington even decides to give him a day's headstart before chasing him.
- Subverted in Dead Man's Chest when he is hit by a tidal wave, interrupting his dramatic exit.
- Also done by Mercer in At World's End, while the pirates retake the Black Pearl.
- Although not at the climax of the film, Prince Septimus escapes from Captain Shakespeare's ship this way in Stardust. The window isn't open at the time, which just screams of a missed chance to awesomely subvert the trope by having the guy bleeding horribly after - but no, Super Window Jump was in full effect.
- Milady does this in The Three Musketeers (2011); preferring to leap from the airship into the English Channel rather than be shot.
- In Solomon Kane, Kane escapes from the Devil's Reaper by diving through a stained glass window into the ocean below.
- In Les Misérables (2012), Valjean escapes from Javert at the hospital by leaping from a window into the river.
- In Die Another Day, Jinx is cornered by the police at a cliff. She first strips to her bikini, stunning them, then jumps into the water near a waiting motorboat.
- In The Fugitive, Dr. Richard Kimble jumps off a dam to escape Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard.
Cosmo Renfro: What happened? Where'd he go?Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard: The guy did a Peter Pan right off of this dam, right here.
- Parodied in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015). To escape the mooks charging towards them, Kuryakin jumps out of a three-story window, expecting to land in the water. Solo only hears a thud and a scream. He then does the same a few seconds later...and finds too late that the window was right above a wooden boat dock.
- In Cutthroat Island, Morgan and Shaw escape from Dawg's men by diving off a cliff into the ocean.
- Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle: At 'The Mighty Roar', the quartet escape from the bikers by jumping off the cliff into the pool below the waterfall.
- The originator was Rupert of Hentzau in the novel The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope, and its various film versions; Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. being the most stylish.
- The original novel actually didn't play it quite straight: Rupert of Hentzau has his glorious 'this was the day you almost caught me' on the bridge, before diving into the moat, but the hero chases him, and thus his actual exit from the novel is with a cheek wound from the hero, having stolen a horse from a peasant girl, still dashing, but hardly the stylish exit of the nobleman. He rides off laughing like a maniac though, so props for that.
- The revisit with time travellers version The Zenda Vendetta grants Rupert the chance to make this kind of exit at the end.
- Parodied in George Macdonald Fraser's novel The Pyrates, where the Anti-Hero tries to escape from a husband he was cuckolding and that guys goons (he has also cheated them at cards) and he ends up tripping when trying to do this and gets beaten to a pulp by them.
- Fraser does play this straight though in one of Flashman novels where Flashman catches his wife with Lord Cardigan and Cardigan does this, making Flashman think the latter at least deserves some credit for panache.
- How much panache? Well, when Flashman entered his wife was naked from the waist up and Cardigan was naked from the waist down. Cardigan still manages a dignified exit.
- Fraser does play this straight though in one of Flashman novels where Flashman catches his wife with Lord Cardigan and Cardigan does this, making Flashman think the latter at least deserves some credit for panache.
- Big Bad Caiboche does this in the Young Bond short story "A Hard Man to Kill", leaping from the smoking deck of the ocean liner Colombie into the Atlantic Ocean. Everyone thinks he has leapt to his death but there was a submarine waiting to pick him up.
- The Marquis does this in Scaramouche, disappearing without a trace.
- Elemental Assassin: In Spider's Bite, Gin is attempting to escape from the Ashland Opera House when she is cornered by Donovan Caine on the roof. She escapes by jumping off the roof into the Aneirin River.
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer:
- A darker variation in the lead up to the season 3 finale where a brutal fight between Buffy and Faith ends with Faith stabbed in the stomach and on the edge of a rooftop. Faith knows Buffy needs her blood to heal Angel and convinced her stab wound is fatal, she gets revenge by falling backwards off of the roof onto the back of a passing truck, which carries her now comatose body away before Buffy can catch up to it
- Even darker; when she's in hospital, the doctor explains that her stab wound to the stomach wasn't actually serious, but the head injury from the fall has put her in a coma with possible brain damage.
- Doctor Who:
- Count Grendel in "The Androids of Tara" (a Zenda homage), leaping from the castle wall into the moat.
Grendel: Next time, I shall not be so lenient!
- In "Robot of Sherwood", Robin Hood escapes from the robot knights by grabbing Clara and leaping out of a window into the moat of Nottingham Castle.
- In "Heaven Sent", the Doctor smashes the bedroom window with a table and leaps out, plunging down into the ocean. Of course, he doesn't know what his escape plan is until after he has leapt out the window.
- Count Grendel in "The Androids of Tara" (a Zenda homage), leaping from the castle wall into the moat.
- The X-Files. Agent Mulder is knocked off the Queen Anne after kissing a Scully look-alike (who promptly socks him in the jaw) in "Triangle", a Two-Fisted Tales pastiche.
- In the Queen of Swords episode "Death to the Queen", the injured and cornered Queen escapes from Captain Grisham by diving off a cliff into the ocean.
- Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.: In "The Asset", Skye escapes from Quinn's mansion by leaping off the balcony into the swimming pool.
- The resident Big Bad in Shadow Hearts attempts this, to hilarious effect.
"Well, there's no sense in my lingering around here. I believe I shall return to London and have myself a spot of tea. Well then, ta-ta, everyone! If you survive, I hope you'll come and pay me a visit there someday! Bwahahahaha—(gets konked on the head with a piece of stray debris) D'oh!
- Genesis after your first fight against him proper in Crisis Core.
- Subverted in Nehrim: Barateon, the Big Bad of the first section of the story, is chased by the hero up a tower and jumps after waving the player so long and taunting them only hit to hit a spike on the way down.
- Assassin's Creed: The Assassins' trademark leap of faith off of a tall building into a convenient pile of hay can easily be used as this. Altaïr does a particularly flashy version in Bloodlines (one of the spinoff handheld games) wherein he turns around toward his attackers, spreads out his arms, and just leans back over the edge.
- In Wonder Project J, Lynx and Pino elude Messala in the prison by leaping from a ledge. Rob and Ber catch them with their plane.
- Nate and Sully do this in Uncharted 2 while they are running from Flynn and his men.
Sully: "See you in hell, kid. Woo hooooo!"
- Carmen Sandiego, Once an Episode in Where on Earth Is Carmen Sandiego?. Sometimes more than once.
- In the theme song, she jumps off the Statue of Liberty to escape Zack and Ivy... then flies away using a jetpack.
- Played straight (as straight as The Simpsons play any trope) in the action-packed spinoff "Wiggum, P.I.", when Big Daddy jumps out the the window of the (stolen) Governor's Mansion into the bayou:
Skinner: He's gradually getting away, Chief.Wiggum: Ah, let him go. I have the feeling we'll meet again, each and every week. Always in more sexy and exciting ways.
- The Great and Powerful Trixie left with a bang in one episode of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic.
- More a subversion; she definitely was going for this.
- Young Justice: Red Arrow does it to get away from Chesire and Sportsmaster while escaping from the League of Shadows headquarters in "Targets".
- Of the many attractions Cartman talks about in the "Casa Bonita" episode of South Park, the cliff diver waterfall becomes of particular significance. When he finally makes it to Casa Bonita, Sheila Broflovski reports him to the police after discovering that he had manipulated Kyle into bringing him by hiding Butters inside a bomb shelter. The police chase him throughout Casa Bonita as he hurriedly samples every attraction in his path, finally being cornered at the top of the cliff diver waterfall. You can probably guess what happens next.
- Fillmore!: Done literally in "The Nineteenth Hole is a Shallow Grave". Fillmore and Ingrid are cornered by a pair of thugs on top on a high diving board. They look at each other, and then turn and jump off the board into the pool.
- On Star Wars Rebels, Kanan and Ezra pull this kind of escape from a pair of Inquisitors. It helps that Ezra has already used The Force to summon some flying creatures to aid their escape.


text:
Cheyenne Autumn
How the West Was Won
From Here to Eternity
Sergeant Rutledge
His Kind of Woman
Deadline U.S.A.
Mexican Manhunt
Run of the Arrow
Arrow in the Dust
Artists and Models
The Perfect Furlough
A Woman's World
Riot in Cell Block 11
All Carleton Young films
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subset: commoncrawl


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It's been about eight years since I stepped into the manufacturing vertical in Kronos and I'm excited to announce that Kronos has asked me to take what I've learned here and apply it to a new initiative. This is a project to demonstrate that labor is not just a cost and compliance burden, but rather a strategic resource that is responsible for differentiating a company.
For those of you who have had a chance to read my book, Lean Labor, you know that I have espoused this proposition for many years. The challenge when I wrote that book is for many companies it is easy to measure the cost and compliance risk of an employee. What's more challenging is to equate an individual's effort to more positive outcomes such as higher quality, increased revenue or improved conformance to policies and procedures. The reason is that measuring cost can be recorded easily and accurately down to the minute. Labor's impact to other factors can often take days or months. Additionally a single or group of employee's impact is often mingled in with other factors such as weather, sales promotions or the performance of other downstream operations.
As any Lean follower knows, this is very similar to the Lean philosophy and I'm looking forward to sharing what I discover in the future here as well.
This initiative goes outside of Manufacturing. Healthcare organizations are evolving from measuring by activity to improving outcomes. Retailers are working to differentiate by providing the right types and levels of service to their customers just when they need it.
This is potentially valuable work for a company because when the only data driven linkage to labor is around cost, compliance and immediate output, the so called "war on labor" will continue. Once we can link the more positive outcomes experienced by a company to labor, companies will have another option to use in achieving their strategic goals. I would predict that this increases their use of labor because executives will have the metric and proof they need to feel confident in the outcomes.
Why do I have confidence in saying that? Today the only role whose performance is easily measured to a strategic goal, in this case revenue, is sales. Broadly speaking sales is always the role that is first to be grown and last to be cut. They are often the highest paid as well.
Fortunately, I'm not alone in this effort. There are examples already occurring in the market and academics who have already been proposing these ideas. A recent article in the New York Times Thinking Outside the (Big) Box provides some more specifics around the idea.
I look forward to communicating our findings and what others are doing in this area in the near future.


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Hi, I have several cockatiels. They are approximately 2 years old. I have had them since they were 2-3 months old. One I have had since it was a baby. It is hand-raised. Since I have had the cockatiel that is hand raised, it has always had very pink nares. It has always been very active and playful. One thing I have noticed that she does that the other cocktiels don't do, is occasionally she will tilt her head back and open her mouth and sit with it open, and while she is doing this, occasionally she will swallow. I have noticed her doing this not very often, but maybe 3-5 times in the last year.
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text: Back to Top The John Cooper Works MINI Kit Want your MINI to stand out on the road? Turn up the power with the exciting new range of John Cooper Works MINI Kit, available for the new MINI Hatch 3 & 5-Door models. Combining over 50 years of racing experience and influenced by years of success on the racetrack, John Cooper Works is synonymous with performance components. Give your MINI a John Cooper Works makeover with the JCW Pro Carbon Fibre Air Intake, the JCW Pro Carbon Fibre Mirror Covers, the JCW Side Scuttles and JCW Headlights. And if these don't take your fancy, look out for performance enhancing accessories, interior styling and exterior styling accessories to really set your MINI apart from the rest. To get up to speed with the new John Cooper Works MINI Kit, contact Elms Bedford, Cambridge or Stansted MINI today.


text:
He has it wrong. Putting aside fundamental facts such as:
- Blogging is about joining an open, two-way conversation. Old-media would never have allowed such a thing.
- As Michael Arrington says "those people with interesting things to say tend to get listened to. Those that don't…don't"
- As Shel says "At no point and in no space is there some Committee of the Anointed A-List sitting in a top down boardroom deciding who should link and who should be linked to"
There is a better, more compelling reason why the size of your audience and a blog's place in the 'A-List' is irrelevant (in broad terms).
Blogging is not about superstars; it's about individuals. It's the long tail of publishing. The top 100 is less important than the top 1 million - or more.
People and companies around the world start blogging not to get on the A-list, but rather to say something to their immediate audience. Even if that is an audience of one.
'Most Readers' will never beat 'Most personally relevant'. My local school's blog has more relevance to me than the A-list blog about schooling hosted by a stranger on the other side of the world.
When content is structured the way that blogging+rss has structured it, particpants (what used to be called 'the audience') get a chance to have a voice right alongside both the old-media and the A-list.
Ultimately the goal of blogging should be that participants can find content that is not just popular, but most personally relevant.
Update: Stowe takes the most balanced view so far with "A house divided against itself cannot stand... or can it?".


text: (No flames please!) Are any other Christians / Jews having a difficulty because Thursday is Holy Thursday / Passover? I'm having a difficult time with the fact that I have to host the talk, yet I'm obligated to go to Holy Thursday mass which is at about the same time. I'm only bringing this up because it's one of the most holy times of the year for *multiple* religions. :-/ -jj


text:
Cliff's grandfather built Hook Run Farm on forty-two acres thirty miles east of the city, a half-hour's easy drive most days. Now, when dirty winds shifted at night to flee the west, Cliff lay beneath beige-gray sheets and sniffed a once forgotten childhood memory: a decaying mouse he'd found inside a discarded soda pop bottle. Borne atop the newly bloating stink of Grandpa's barn and paddocks, this recollected scent visited every evening. Rich, sweet, corrupt, ageless.
Each successive day launched its parade of sad, soiled clowns hauling their props. Laden with mattresses, chairs, luggage, even small appliances, a procession of cars, trucks, and buses passed Cliff's farm. Motorcycles, too; sometimes with sidecars or pulling twee trailers. A few bicycles staggered through the ever-present dust. All wheeled traffic ended two days ago. In its fading tracks walked small groups, couples, individuals, their cargo reduced to little consequence. Stragglers — the scum dispossessed of respectable transportation options.
Pedestrian traffic…now, that was an opportunity. Cliff did not doubt it.
After he and the girl shared a breakfast of canned tuna and some pickles, he set up a card table outside the picket fence and right next to the mailbox. No postal service for days now. What letter would he send? What bank could cash a subsidy check? Failing elms bluffed at offering relief from an indistinct red sun. Some scrap plywood panels would do for signs. He let Sugar Snap letter and decorate them herself. His niece was only seven but talented for her age when it came to arty stuff.
"How much for lemonade?" she asked him, paintbrush in hand. Cliff set down the chair he'd brought for her. He crossed his arms and frowned.
"What did we talk about at breakfast?" he asked in reply.
Sugar Snap closed her eyes, puffed out her China-doll lower lip. Then she remembered.
"Twenty five dollars a glass!" she chirped.
"…and if they complain about it?"
"Screw 'em! They can pound salt!"
"My girl," he said, grinning like a broken gate. She was sharp, this one, same as his sister back in the city. His younger sister who was possibly decomposing in her bed right now, or more probably the bathtub and with a bottle of cognac. The impulse to imagine those scenes caused him no distress whatsoever; realizing he didn't care about this emptiness, well, that didn't bother him either. Sugar Snap, who'd arrived only recently, seemed to adore him. Cliff was still getting used to it.
"Okay, kiddo, find your fortune," he said, turning to go check his livestock. "Just stay out for a short while, though — I don't want you breathing crap all day."
In the dim, fetid pens Cliff could make out four more Holsteins had died overnight. A few survivors lurched about, tattooed with sores, trembling. Cliff weighed using his old Remington twelve gauge pumper to speed them along on their journey to cow heaven. They were no good now. You couldn't drink their milk or eat their meat.
He heard Sugar Snap's squeal and limped back around from the barn. Less than ten minutes had passed before the morning's first prospect solidified out of the haze. Cliff stepped onto the front porch, shotgun cradled in his arms.
A man shuffled to a halt near Sugar Snap's lemonade stand. His hair, beard, and garments were monochrome in their coating of dust. His haversack, which he slung earthward with a grunt, had split open and silver duct tape bound the guts. He pulled down the rag stretched over his mouth and nose, held open his jacket to reveal clothing dark with sweat, then raised both hands. Sugar Snap looked over her shoulder at her uncle.
"Hey there," croaked the stranger, whose intent was unreadable through a skim of debris on his eyeglasses. "Do you mind if I rest here a minute? I'm not armed."
"Seeing as how you are not and I myself am," Cliff replied, "I don't have any problem with that. How are things in the city?"
The man propped his elbows against Cliff's fence and let his head droop.
"Very quiet," he said to the withered weeds, and barely audible to Cliff. "Quieter than any city could be. I grew up there. Now all death and dying. But the smell — so thick, so nasty — I think the stench muffles all sound."
He raised his head but the grimy lenses contributed nothing.
"Bad deal for everyone, I suppose," said Cliff, glancing at Sugar Snap and then watching their visitor. "You want anything to drink?"
Cliff eased himself downward onto the porch's top step and rested the shotgun's butt next to his boot. His muscles vibrated from endless digging. Weepy blisters gloved ruined hands. Smaller animals he could deal with, but horses and all these cows — he was out of lime and couldn't bear any sort of attention a fire would bring. Simply moving corpses was nearly impossible. Except for old Max, Cliff's mastiff, who'd hobbled into his own grave, stared at the Remington, and that was that.
The stranger tried to reply but lapsed into a fit of choking and hacking. Sugar Snap wrinkled her nose and giggled.
"Yes," he wheezed, "I could use something."
With her dress hem Sugar Snap wiped a drinking glass before pouring the lemonade. No ice; Hook Run Farm had lost power five days ago and Cliff ran the generator sparingly. Hard to guess where more fuel would come from. He'd already drained his pickup's tank when he realized he wasn't going anywhere. Sugar Snap presented the glass and her customer lurched forward, coughing as he reached out.
She withdrew it and pointed to her still-wet sign. "That'll be twenty-five dollars, mister."
His fit passed abruptly. A gray toad of a tongue flicked across fissured lips.
"You're kidding, right?" the man said to Cliff. "I don't know you people — I can't tell if you're just having fun with me."
Cliff resisted an urge to pump the Remington for effect.
"Don't talk to me," he said. "Your business is with my niece. She has your lemonade."
"I'm not paying that. It's bullshit! I need my money."
Sugar Snap emptied the glass's contents onto thirsty soil, creating an instant batch of lemonade-pudding.
"Twenty-five dollars," she repeated with a smile.
Cliff stood up and pumped his gun's action. One-handed, like in the movies he'd probably never see again. He was a smallish man and nearly tipped himself over but his message was clear enough.
"Jesus Christ, don't shoot!" said Sugar Snap's customer. "I'll pay it, I'll pay." He dug beneath his waistband and produced a small leather pouch. Counted out a twenty and a five, set them on the girl's table. Sugar Snap didn't move.
"Alright. My drink," he said. "Pour me — please, pour me another one."
Sugar Snap shook her head and pointed at the lemonade puddle. Powdery soil was already trying to win back its own.
"That's yours down there."
His face glowed red from behind its shroud of filth. He might have sputtered but nothing escaped his parched mouth except a crinkly hiss. Cliff aimed a perfect gut shot and waited. The man grabbed his haversack and backed up, sobbing, stumbling on pavers. He turned and staggered eastward away from the city and Hook Run Farm, and back into invisibility.
Cliff's niece waved her fists.
"I made twenty-five bucks," she hooted. "Uncle Cliff, I did it!"
"Way to go, kiddo!" he called back. Grit and fatigue burned his eyes. "Keep it up, keep it up. There'll be more customers coming any minute."
"Yes, sir."
Sugar Snap wandered in an irregular circle around her table, stopping at times to look out for more visitors. She sang improvised commercial jingles about her good lemonade. Cliff chuckled. Damn, she was a delight.
Gripping his Remington, he sat back down and slouched sideways against the porch's handrail. So reassuring to see Sugar Snap learning lessons about life. She was going to be fine.
He awoke at dusk. Someone poked Cliff's ribs with the shotgun's barrel. A cold machete stung his neck. He could make out Sugar Snap's table in the waning light but she wasn't there. A dozen or so hooded figures stood in the road and his front yard, watching him, silent as shade. They carried rifles, bows, axes, and improvised spears. From somewhere out back a couple of Holsteins lowed the music of expiring woodwinds.
One of the intruders pressed the machete's broad blade against Cliff's head just above an ear. A hood, face mask, and goggles made it impossible to tell if this captor was a man or woman, young or old.
"We're looking for children," the machete-person whispered. "Do you have any?"
Banner Image: Pixabay.com


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<a href="http://www.finecooking.com/recipes/brown_sugar'
Brown Sugar Syrup
Yields scant 2 cups.
I've never liked the artificial flavor of most commercial syrups, although I do like the thickness. And while I love the flavor of real maple syrup, I don't care for its thin texture. If you have a little extra time (just a few minutes), you can make your own thick, homemade syrup with delicious flavor. In her cookbook Heritage of Southern Cooking, Camille Glenn offers a recipe for homemade syrup that I love and have adapted. It will keep in the refrigerator for up to a month.
1 cup light brown sugar
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
2 cups water
3 Tbs. unsalted butter
1/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted (optional)
In a medium saucepan, bring the sugars, corn syrup, and water to boil. Reduce the heat and simmer vigorously until thickened to a syrupy consistency, 10 to 15 min. Stir in the butter (and nuts, if using). Let cool slightly (it will thicken more as it cools) and serve.
nutrition information (per serving): Size : per Tbs.; Calories (kcal): 70; Fat (g): fat g 1; Fat Calories (kcal): 10; Saturated Fat (g): sat fat g 0.5; Protein (g): protein g 0; Monounsaturated Fat (g): 0.5; Carbohydrates (g): carbs g 15; Polyunsaturated Fat (g): 0; Sodium (mg):sodium mg 5; Cholesterol (mg): cholesterol mg 5; Fiber (g):fiber g 0;


text:
One of the many friendly faces you'll find in and around Bali! Photo taken in November 2016.
22 May 2017
Friendly face
6 comments:
...friendly with a lot of teeth.ReplyDelete
The feet look like hands. Impressive!ReplyDelete
My goodness he has long toes!ReplyDelete
Looks like my great aunt Edna when she first got up in the morning! BTW, many golf courses here will not allow you to walk. The other thing is it's too damn hot. And my legs won't allow me to walk...it's almost to the point where they won't allow me to play golf but so far I'm good and can blame them for my bad scores! :)ReplyDelete
Pretty cool statue. I agree with Marleen, the feet look like hands.ReplyDelete
What a face!ReplyDelete
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text:
The Church Triumphant
Ready to Sing Series / Arranger: Russell Mauldin
- Combines the acclaimed Ready To Sing series with songs by some of the most celebrated gospel songwriters of all-time
- Features 14 songs brilliantly compiled into 12 stirring arrangements
- A sensational Ready to Sing collection ideal for small-to-medium sized choirs or large choirs with last-minute rehearsal needs
Choral Book 645757098872
Split-Track Accompaniment CD 645757098834
Listening CD 645757098827
Soprano Rehearsal Track CD 645757098902
Alto Rehearsal Track CD 645757098957
Bass Rehearsal Track CD 645757098971
CD Preview-Pak Sorry Sold Out 645757098810US $14.99
The one-rehearsal sing-a-bility of the best-selling Ready to Sing Series is combined with some of the most-cherished songs of the church to give you Ready to Sing: The Church Triumphant. Fourteen songs have been brilliantly compiled into 12 stirring arrangements by Russell Mauldin. Your choir will love singing each classic selection from some of the most celebrated gospel songwriters of all-time. As always, this sensational Ready to Sing collection is ideal for small to medium-sized choirs, or large choirs with last-minute rehearsal needs.
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The rumors regarding Sony Ericsson Xperia Anzu were correct, for most part. The Anzu exists, and will be launched as Xperia X12 – Sony Ericsson's next flagship model. The X12 is expected to hit the stores in early 2011, and will (probably) be sporting FroYo at launch. This is a deviation from initial reports that suggested that Anzu will launch with Gingerbread (Android 2.3) onboard. Now, it appears that Gingerbread will be made available as a separate update at some point during the summer of 2011.
Mobile-Review managed to get their hands on an early development build, which was running vanilla Android 2.1. The reviewer found the device to be quite snappy. However, the real question is, how well will the X12 perform once the custom shell (UXP) has been plastered on top of the vanilla Android. The X12 will also feature an twelve megapixel camera with 720p HD recording at 30fps.
Possibly the biggest let downs in the X12 are its display and processor. It will have a 4.2FWVGA (854×480) capacitive display with full multi-touch support. However, Sony Ericsson has decided to continue using traditional LCD displays instead of the AMOLED or SLCD displays used by HTC.
As disclosed earlier, the Xperia X12 will be powered by MSM7230. The processor (45nm) in X12 will most likely be clocked at 800 MHz, and in terms of performance will be quite similar to the current generation snapdragons (65nm). However, the MSM7230 uses Adreno 205 as its GPU unit, which is a significant step up from the previous Adreno 200.
On the whole, the Xperia X12 is a nice update. However, Xperia X12 looks poorly poised to be the flagship model, as its modest processor is no match for TI's OMAP 4 and Samsung's Orion.


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Slow-Roasted Tomatoes
Published in The Best Slow and Easy Recipes
Why This Recipe Works
For our slow-roasted tomatoes recipe, we dressed our tomatoes in extra-virgin olive oil, which perfumed the tomatoes with an herbaceous, peppery aroma, and sent them into the oven to slow roast until browned and slightly wrinkled. At this point, their juices had evaporated, leaving the flavor of the olive oil at the forefront. To flavor our slow-roasted tomatoes recipe, we used fine slivers of garlic, which practically melted during the slow bake, reducing to sweet and slightly chewy bits.
Read More


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- ISSN 0010-0765 printed
- ISSN 1212-6950 electronic
Andrey Arzumanov
- Andrey Arzumanov and Michael J. Gait
Inhibition of the HIV-1 Tat protein-TAR RNA interaction by 2'-O-methyl oligoribonucleotides
Symposium Series 1999, Vol. 2, pp. 168–174 [Abstract]
Published online 2016-05-08 20:43:11
The following names might also represent this author:
A. Arzumanov
- N. Dyatkina, A. Arzumanov and L. Victorova
Nucleoside 5'-α-phosphonyl-β,γ-diphosphates: Synthesis and functional study
1993, Vol. 58, Special Issue, pp. S91–S93 [Abstract]
Andrey A. Arzumanov
- Andrey A. Arzumanov, Dmitry G. Semizarov, Lyubov S. Victorova, Natalia B. Dyatkina and Alexander A. Krayevsky
2'-Deoxynucleoside 5'-triphosphates modified at the γ-phosphate
1996, Vol. 61, Special Issue, pp. S174–S177 [Abstract]
- Amer F. Saleh, Andrey A. Arzumanov, Haifang Yin, Corinne Betts, Suzan Hammond, Matthew J. A. Wood and Michael J. Gait
Enhancement of exon skipping and dystrophin production by 3'-peptide conjugates of morpholino (PMO) oligonucleotides in a mdx mouse model of Duchenne muscular dystrophy
Symposium Series 2011, Vol. 12, pp. 292–296 [Abstract]
Published online 2015-08-20 10:11:26
- Gabriela D. Ivanova, Andrey A. Arzumanov, John J. Turner, Martin M. Fabani, Rachida Abes, Bernard Lebleu and Michael J. Gait
RNA targeting in cells by peptide conjugates of peptide nucleic acids (PNA)
Symposium Series 2008, Vol. 10, pp. 103–111 [Abstract]
Published online 2015-10-30 18:35:48
- Gabriela D. Ivanova, Andrey A. Arzumanov, B. Ravindra Babu, Neerja Karla, David Sweedler, Leo Beigelman, Jesper Wengel and Michael J. Gait
Inhibition of HIV-1 Tat-dependent trans-activation by steric block oligonucleotide analogues containing amino modifications
Symposium Series 2005, Vol. 7, pp. 367–371 [Abstract]
Published online 2015-11-08 11:55:31


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The U.S. government recently passed one of the biggest changes to the tax code in decades, as it seeks to increase investments and accelerate economic growth. Under the new tax bill, the corporate tax rate will be lowered to 21% from 35%, while the overall tax structure is also expected to be simplified. Large telecom companies such as Verizon (NYSE:VZ) and AT&T (NYSE:T) could have a lot to gain from the changes, given their large and fairly consistent profits. Moreover, these companies derive a bulk of their revenues from the domestic market, with most of their capital investments and workforce in the U.S. While the impacts of the tax reform are likely to be partly baked in to the market prices of these companies, the full impact of the tax cuts on stock valuations are only expected to be felt in the years to come, as companies potentially deploy tax savings into more productive avenues. We have created an interactive model that details how changes in effective tax rates can impact the valuation of these major telecom companies. You can modify assumptions such as projected taxable income, long-term growth rates and discount rates (weighted average cost of capital) to see how the tax rate/valuation dynamics change.
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- Verizon's Q4 Earnings And What Lies Ahead For The Company In 2019
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Home > Laptop Comparisons & Tablet Comparisons> Sony Vaio Flip 13 vs. Sony Vaio Duo 13 Smackdown
Posted November 12, 2013 by Lisa Gade, Editor
in Chief (twitter: @lisagade)
Here's another one of those smackdowns where either way, one company wins. In this case it's Sony with their innovative Windows 8 convertibles, the Sony Vaio Flip 13 and the Vaio Duo 13. The Duo 13 has been on the market a few months longer, but both it and the Flip 13 share the same display and underlying platform. They have Intel 4th generation Haswell ULV CPUs, 4 to 8 gigs of DDR3L RAM and mSATA SSD drives. They both have Sony's 13.3" full HD Triluminos display with N-Trig active digitizers and digital pen support. But the form factors are wildly different.
The Difference is in the Designs
The Sony Vaio Duo 13 has a slider design that makes it easier to use the Ultrabook as a tablet. In fact, in its closed or carrying position, it is a tablet with the screen facing out. That makes it more vulnerable in transport than the Vaio Flip 13 that morphs into a standard laptop with an aluminum lid facing out. The Duo 13 is designed for those who plan to use the device frequently, if not most of the time in tablet mode. The slightly shorter than normal keyboard and abbreviated trackpad are a testament to this. Even in laptop mode, the screen is closer and at a better angle for touch than the Flip 13 in laptop mode. The screen angle however, isn't adjustable, which might annoy some folks.
The Sony Vaio Flip 13 looks at first blush like a standard high end Ultrabook with a metal casing and a slim design. It's unique hinge sits mid-display and you can flip it from notebook to tablet to presentation mode, all the while avoiding the Lenovo Yoga problem of the keyboard resting against your legs or table. For those looking for a laptop first and a tablet second, the Flip 13 is the better choice. Even if you are looking for a tablet first, you can leave the Flip in tablet mode all the time, and it works just as well as the Duo 13.
Same Stuff Inside
If you compare a similarly spec-d Flip and Duo 13, you'll see the same performance since they're running on the same CPUs, Intel integrated graphics, RAM and SSD selections. The Vaio Flip 13 is available with Haswell Intel Core i3, 5 and i7 ULV CPUs, while the Duo 13 is available with Haswell Core i5 and i7 CPUs. Both max out at 8 gigs of RAM and that RAM is soldered onto the motherboard, so you can't upgrade later. The SSD has an mSATA interface.
For those with big budgets and high graphics desires, the Duo 13 is available with a Core i7 plus Intel HD 5000 graphics vs. the HD 4400 on lower level Duo 13 models and the Flip 13. That will net you 5 to 10% improvement in graphics benchmarks and a few frames in 3D games.
Both use the same display panel and these are some of the best full HD 13.3" displays on the market with near full sRGB coverage and 75% of Adobe RGB. Both reach 300 nits of brightness and have excellent contrast. Both have N-Trig active digitizers that work with N-Trig digital pens. The Duo 13 comes with the pen, but many Flip 13 SKUs don't so you'll have to buy it separately for $40.
The Duo 13 and Flip 13 have two USB 3.0 ports, full size HDMI, an SD card slot and a 3.5mm combo audio jack. They have stereo speakers (the Flip 13 gets louder) and mics. They have NFC, dual band WiFi and Bluetooth 4.0 as well as front 720p webcams and rear 8MP cameras.
What's not the Same
Much has been made of the Vaio Duo 13's WiFi, a dual band Broadcom adapter. We've noted a bit lower signal strength but otherwise reliable connections and good data transfer speeds on our Apple Airport Extreme 802.11n network. But there are thousands of wireless routers in homes and offices and several different networks in use (b, g and n). Clearly the machine's WiFi performance is dependent on your router, network type and even building materials. That said, the Sony Vaio Flip 13 uses the solid Intel 7260-N dual band WiFi 802.11n adapter and it gets a stronger signal on our network at greater distances. If you typically use WiFi in weak service areas, the Flip 13 may be a better pick.
Battery life is significantly better on the Sony Vaio Duo 13, and it has a 2x bigger battery. The Duo 13 typically lasts us 9 hours on a charge. The Vaio Flip 13 lasts 6 hours. The Flip 13 would likely have better battery life if the darned fan wasn't on constantly. Even at boot before the internals have a chance to heat up, the fan is whirring away. It's annoying. CPU temps are low, yet the fan is working hard--we hope Sony fixes this with a BIOS update. The Duo 13, even our Core i7 model, is silent unless playing a demanding 3D game like Civ V or converting full HD video for export.
The Duo 13 is available only as a 13.3" machine. The Sony Vaio Flip is available in 13, 14 and 15 inch sizes. For those of you who aren't fond of small laptops, the Flip gains appeal in its bigger sizes, though it becomes harder to use as a tablet as size and weight rise.
The Duo 13 is priced approxmimately $200 higher than the Flip 13 with comparable specs. Both models are available only with 1920 x 1080 full HD Trilumos displays with N-Trig digizers, SSD drives and a minimum of 4 gigs of RAM. Both are available in silver and black.
Deals and Shopping:
Sony Vaio Flip 13 vs. Sony Vaio Duo 13 Comparison Smackdown Video
Related Reviews:
Sony Vaio Duo 13 Review
Sony Vaio Flip 13 Review
Sony Vaio Pro 13 Review
Microsoft Surface Pro 2 Review
Sony Vaio Duo 13 Specs:
Display: 13.3" IPS Triluminos display with capacitive touch and N-Trig active digitizer with included pen. Resolution: full HD 1920 x 1080. Intel HD 4400 or HD 5000 integrated graphics. HDMI port and Intel WiDi wireless display.
Battery: 6320 mAh Lithium
Ion rechargeable, sealed inside. Claimed battery life: up to 10 hours.
Performance: Fourth generation Intel Haswell ULV CPUs, all with Turbo Boost. 1.6GHz Intel Core i5-4200U, 1.8GHz Core i7-4500U (with HD 4400 graphics) and 1.7GHz Core i7-4650U with Intel HD 5000 graphics available. 4 or 8 gigs of DDR3 LPDDR3-1600MHz RAM soldered to motherboard. 128, 256 and 512 gig mSATA SSD options.
Size: 4.47
x 2.78 x .53 inches. Weight: 2.98 pounds.
Camera: 2MP front camera with Exmor R sensor. 8MP rear camera with Exmor RS sensor.
Audio: Built-in stereo speakers, mic and 3.5mm standard stereo headphone
Networking: Integrated dual band
Broadcom WiFi 802.11b/g/n, Bluetooth +HS and NFC.
Software: Windows 8 64 bit (Windows 8 Pro available).
Expansion and Ports: Two USB 3.0 ports (one charging), full size HDMI, 3.5mm combo audio and
SDXC/MMC/Memory Stick Pro Duo card slot.
Sony Vaio Flip 13 Specs:
Display: 13.3" IPS Triluminos display with capacitive touch and N-Trig active digitizer (pen sold separately with many SKUs). Resolution: full HD 1920 x 1080. Intel HD 4400 integrated graphics. HDMI port and Intel WiDi wireless display.
Battery: 3170 mAh Lithium
Ion rechargeable, sealed inside. Claimed battery life: 6 hours.
Performance: Fourth generation Intel Haswell ULV CPUs, 1.7GHz Core i3-4005U (no Turbo Boost on Core i3), 1.6GHz Intel Core i5-4200U, 1.8GHz Core i7-4500U with HD 4400 graphics. 4 or 8 gigs of DDR3 LPDDR3-1600MHz RAM soldered to motherboard. 128, 256 and 512 gig mSATA SSD options.
Size: : 12.81 (W) x 0.56 - 0.70"(H) x 8.80 (D) inches. Weight: 2.89 pounds.
Networking: Integrated dual band
Intel 7260-N WiFi 802.11b/g/n, Bluetooth +HS and NFC.
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Craft kit
Each week I display this one in the widow by circle time calendar . (later show how to display rest )
love the song (we will do all week not just today ) it is Nov. 2nd funshine
Our Friends
Do you know my Friend (name)
our friend name(name) our friend name (name)?
Do you know our friend named (name)?
lets wave and say "hello"
Also this week moving is Bowling which my kids love so bowling set out
Science this week is smelling bottles (picture next post )
Nov. 3rd intro to the old king Cole book (I will read for the week )
art build with play dough (castle)
Sand out for sensory and made sand castle


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This album was to have been posted on 25 July 2016.
This album is, potentially, a borderline case. It is released under the tightest Creative Commons license there is, granting you the right only to listen and share. Which is a good thing, because most (perhaps all) of the tracks are covers of well-known jazz and jazz-era songs. Lee Morgan's "Sidewinder" is here. "As Time Goes By" is here, but in an arrangement so original you might have to listen to it a few times to tease out the melody you're sure you know.
I have no way to check, so I simply assume that the band paid the (minor) fee required to record covers of copyrighted songs. The fact that the license is restricted to "listen and share" tends to support that view.
But even if they haven't, jazz history is rife with examples of musicians and composers taking earlier works and creating something wholly new out of them. In a sense, jazz is remixing. And given that all the original songs that I know here are so old that the composers are long in the grave, it's hard to argue that doing original cover versions in any way hurts the creators, in any event.
That concern out of the way, what we have here is a real, genuine, modern big band sound. Ak-47 Big Band is not as tight, nor as bombastic as U.S. Army Blues, from a few albums ago, but they're real and they've got chops.
This eponymous album is, thus far, the only one the band has put out. And, indeed, it is not even a real album, as bandleader Santiago Kurchan writes:
This is not exactly a record. It's just a sample of the work we've been doing, w[h]ich we are proud of and want to show. It's not a record because the group formed just a few months ago and a pro[j]ect this big has its own time to develop and to generate a continuity and flow in the music and in the people.
Alas, like many Creative Commons jazz outfits, this appears to be a one-and-done affair. This album was released in 2011, and I find nothing new from them at any of the band's or the bandleader's sites or social media profiles.
Perhaps it's simple economics, that maintaining a regular big band is impossible in today's long tail economy, especially in the CC portion of it. Perhaps it's just that nobody has found the right formula to make such a thing economically feasible.
Download Ak-47 Big Band by Ak-47 Big Band free from the Internet Archive.
Ak-47 Big Band by Ak-47 Big Band is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.


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We also offer a range of private and party hire equipment and services.


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Captain Obvious moment: I knew that starting a project of choosing great storytime books would mean reading an insane amount of picture books, and I am totally fine with it. I started off with trawling the Internet to find lists of great picture books for 2016 and 2017, with the logic that I might as well keep it recent. One problem I found when planning my storytimes is that the gold standard storytime books, like Don't Push the Button, had already been done at my storytime locations recently. Time to reinvent the wheel, then, and check out new works that other people thought were great. I've started with checking out 11 books, with about 15 more on reserve at my two local public library systems.
First up is Penguin Problems written by Jory John and illustrated by Lane Smith. This book came out in 2016 and was lauded for its humor. The premise is that a little penguin wakes up on the wrong side of the bed–he's cold, he's hungry, he's lonely, and the day isn't shaping up to improve. The story takes us through his day which is narrated by the penguin's observations and start where it all began. Time to throw this story into the storytime book matrix
Text (amount, diction, font and size)
This would be a challenging book to narrate, as the penguin's voice is very clear but literally every page has a complaint on it. The font is generally too small to be seen well, and then there's one page with an entire wall of text where a walrus tells the penguin to appreciate what he does have instead of focusing on what he doesn't.
Illustrations (line work, colors, size, and amount of "negative" white space, which is undesirable in a storytime book)
Some of the illustrations are great–very little negative space, and good colors and shapes. The penguins are distinct and I love how the colors mirror what you might see in Antarctica. One big problem is that there are way too many sequential pictures where the penguin is featured up to four times on the same page, implying movement…but a 2 year old might look at this and see four different penguins.Therefore, this book would be more appropriate for a school age audience.
Theme (concept and story)
The theme of this story is tricky to rate: a penguin complaining, realizing some things are nice, and then returning to complaining left other reviewers commenting on how it seemed like this book encourages whining. I didn't see that, but I also think the audience who really appreciates picture books won't pick up on the humor, and as an adult…I didn't think it was that funny. I wish the part about the penguin appreciating what he has had been emphasized more, but then I suppose it might have had to have a different time.
- Best age fit
School age, around first or second grade. Basically, old enough to appreciate the humor but young enough to still like storytime. If I was to read this book to a group of kids, I would be playing up the contrast and trying to bring more levity to what is generally a pretty downer story.
Possible early literacy connections
There's always the argument of background knowledge for how penguins live, but I think there might be more informative and entertaining text for this particular skill.
So my first review is of a clunker. But really, I feel like this might be a good book for one-on-one reading, particularly with a kid with a different sense of humor. Lane Smith is known for quirky words, and most of his illustrations are great. I do have to recommend this with reservations about the conversation about appreciating what you've got that would probably follow after reading this story with a child.


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At the moment that I was prepping up to watch my first ever theater play, it dawned on me how some countries like South Korea and Thailand have turned to the arts and entertainment for products to export and ail the economy since DVD copies of their films and TV drama series are tangible products worth exporting too. Some local television networks have taken advantage of this business strategy too and it only came naturally for me to see Philippine theater following suit.
Here's the thing - it's still a different matter altogether whenever it's a locally-penned musical that gets exported with the Filipino cast along with it as compared to importing Broadway or West End musicals aired on local theaters with Filipinos included in the cast.. You know what I'm saying?
The Filipino performer is naturally talented, gifted even. Our talents are not limited to providing the manpower needed to bring a musical to vibrant and vivacious life. We can write our own material as proven with the recent musicals released like Zsa Zsa Zaturnah Ze Muzikal and Rak of Aegis.
Both musical plays may have been in Tagalog but that only shows the ingenuity of Filipino writers. Philippine theater has the capability to go global and it seems as if everyone is just waiting for somebody to step up to the plate.
Artists Theater Company accepted the challenge and put their best foot forward in order to come up with a Philippine-produced musical that would be launched in the Philippines and followed with an Asian tour - a move I highly laud knowing that the Filipino can do better as long as the guts to accomplish it exists
I think that's the appropriate term to use when doing something daring: guts. No guts, no glory indeed.
I was discussing this over with a friend online about the opportunity for Filipinos to go global with the help of originally-produced theater productions. Although I agree with her about having some Filipino-based stories for the sake of showcasing the beauty of our culture and how certain misconceptions still persist in being Filipino, Marco Polo The Musical is still a commendable first step worth taking in order to prove to the world that the Filipino artistry is not in supplying the manpower alone when it comes to musicals. Like what I wrote above, we can write our own material. Going global with the help of going local gives a new positive spin on going back to your roots in order to rediscover your own history.
I think it also helped that such opportunities spark up the nationalist in me. Why not take the world by storm one Philippine production at a time?
For inquiries, please visit the official website of Marco Polo The Musical for details.
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Jing Dalagan
I've been blogging for as long as I could remember. But I made it a career as of late as a home-based writer. It is something I find comfort in doing.
April 2015


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{Continued from PART 3}
I walk and I walk. My black oxfords scrape on the carpet, which I see is charcoal gray and lines a corridor that seems to extend endlessly. There is a white drop ceiling overhead with fluorescent lights covered with flat, rectangular panels. In other words, the ceiling I have seen in several hundred buildings and factory offices I visited in two years of consulting. The walls are stark white in contrast to my black pantsuit.
Doors pass by me. Their suite numbers are blurred. No matter how much I struggle to focus my eyes, the numerals remain fuzzy. The only thing I can determine is that each suite has five numerals. Five? Strange. I realize this is how Michael sees when he doesn't have his glasses on, as he is farsighted. I cannot determine why everything else is sharp, but the numbers are obscured.
a corridor that seems to extend endlessly...
Most of the suite doors have fake wood grain patterns and are closed. A few have windows around them, with a corporate logo either etched in or emblazoned on an attached sign. A reception area is visible in one, the front desk ovate and built of blond wood. In couple of offices that are open, I look inside and see cubicles, desks and chairs, again like the scores of offices that housed JTS clients. The walls are pale, and the drop ceilings with their fluorescent glare loom overhead. It is the windows in these suites that catch my eye.
I have seen these windows before, but very infrequently. They are very tall and very narrow and have broad white frames between them.
These windows were in the suites of the World Trade Center.
Then I am here again, I think. So many freaking questions here. Do I have another client, another of those financial services firms that belatedly discovered quality assurance? Or maybe some dinky law firm that wanted a prestige address? What must I do? Perform an audit? Write their procedures or their quality manual? How many hours inside this tower of architectural overkill? How many hours until the Lioness of Terra Firma prowls back on her earth? How can JTS be so convinced that I am the one to handle this? Why must I keep being loaded onto jets for New York?
I see a sign indicating the floor number and tenants. The hazy floor number is in the triple digits. So I'm near the top of one of the towers. Oh, how wonderful. The firms' names are white smudges of indecipherable letters against a dark background. I do not know whom I must see or even if I am on the correct floor.
I see a hallway branching perpendicular to the one in which I tread and enter it. Now I am in the building's central core, where the elevators, restrooms, and stairwells are. The elevator area walls are white marble with black streaks, the same as the lobby. The lift doors are brass colored. The floor numerals on the edge of the elevator frame are blurred. Again everything else is delineated in such an exaggerated, exact manner that I want to yell. The unreadable elevator numbers remind me of cheap reality TV shows in which someone's face is an amorphous blob in order to disguise their identity.
I hear hums from within the shafts in front of me. A bell rings, a light comes on, and a man in navy dress slacks and a light blue, open-necked shirt steps out of a car. He carries a briefcase. There is a plastic ID badge hanging from his pocket. He smiles and silently nods while passing me. I don't think to ask him which floor this is. No one else is the elevator, and the doors hiss shut.
I've taken a wrong turn. Not only have I stumbled upon the wrong floor, but the wrong building, the wrong city. I don't belong here. I am a ghost, an interloper, invader of an exclusive, closed city shooting above the firmament. Now I must flee before they find me. Perhaps the man who benignly acknowledged me by the elevators is contacting them right now.
I must avoid the elevators. Too obvious. A way to die. The stairs are the only option. No problem for me - five years in a health club has toned me up and honed my endurance. I search the central area and find three stairwells. Which one? Where will they not find me?
I place my hand on the door marked "A." I stare at its thick metallic surface and inhale deeply. "A is for apple, J is for Jacks," I say. "I must go this way. I must go away and away and away."
I am in a stairwell like hundreds of others. As expected, it's painted in a hideous color the maintenance people picked up at some fire sale. The walls are an unappetizing beige, the steps gray with yellow edges. I charge downstairs, watching the blurred floor numbers decrease.
I take a misstep, trip over an abandoned attach� case and a lady's scarlet pump on a step. Why are these stupid objects here, in this very place? I tumble forward and grab for the railing. Instead I go right over it and feel gravity savagely yanking my body down.
My head strikes a railing; pain shoots through me. I cannot stop my acceleration. I scream as I drop. I realize one of the monster siblings has cornered me, has trapped me within his depths. He is now snuffing me out to consume me. Which brother is he - Nelson or David?
I cannot get away. I scream and kick out with my legs, smashing the railings myself, so that he knows my fury at being ensnared.
"You may have caught me, you bastard, but I'll make sure you hurt! I'll be the most painful meal you have! You'll remember me!"
The velocity tears into me more. I scream again. The descent shudders through my head, and everything becomes black. I feel a sensation of slamming in my head.
A male voice. My body jerked, and my eyes popped back open. I saw patterns on a black ceiling, irregular geometric shapes. A play of moonbeams through blinds and tree branches. A face loomed over me.
Michael's skin was pallid in the night. "Joanie, what happened? Are you all right?"
I stared up at him and wanted to sob for joy. "I'm home. I'm safe."
"Yes, you're home, Joanie. You must've had a nightmare."
"I did."
"You were screaming. You were yelling and calling someone a bastard. You were thrashing all over the place. You pulled the sheet out."
"Oh, good grief."
He pulled me close to him, encircling me with his arms. "Come here. Tell me what happened."
"I was falling from a great height. A monster was going to eat me after that."
"Joanie, jeez." He laughed nervously. "I'll protect you from those monsters."
I managed a weak laugh, but I was so raw and frightened that I needed him. I wanted Michael's warmth, the curves of his muscles, the coarseness of the hair on his forearms, the cotton of his T-shirt.
A is for apple; J is for Jacks. It was the opening line of a jingle in a Kellogg's Apple Jacks cereal commercial I saw when I was in junior high. I pushed the silly phrase out of my head and struggled toward rest again.
We fell asleep lying on our sides, his arms around me. The dream that I remembered from that time was of standing in the wild area beyond the privacy fences in Grandma Morris' neighborhood, watching an infinite Grand Trunk Western freight train trundling by. I waved at a man whose face peered out of the caboose.
The very first time I visited World Trade Center, it turned into an event that I soon after labeled "a big barrel of malodorous, rotten fish."
While I stood in the lobby of the south tower, I felt as if I were in a mausoleum. There were white marble walls and high windows that ended in gothic peaks. Chandeliers in decorative, recessed square forms on the ceiling cast a bronze-like light, accentuated by the same color in the elevator doors.
My promise of summer 1972, to never go to towering heights for "ten million million dollars," was shattered. I was nearly 20 years old.
there were white marble walls and high windows that ended in gothic peaks
My entry into the Big Apple came via a strong desire to see exactly what the city was like, and to sample its attractions. My entry into one of its largest buildings was due in part to fatigue and being a pushover.
That last Sunday in March was my final day in Gotham. I had spent nearly four days there attending a convention of a group called Alpha Epsilon Ro, an honorary organization for broadcasting students. I arrived as part of the Central Michigan University delegation. We swaggered a bit, as we had been named chapter of the year in 1981, and were heavily favored to win again that year. We were euphoric on that day, because we did win the night before.
We were housed at the New York Statler in Midtown. From what I can gather, this facility has reverted to its legendary name, the Hotel Pennsylvania. Any big band fan knows Glen Miller's "Pennsylvania 6-5000," the lodging's main phone number. The hotel was and is on Seventh Avenue between 32nd and 33rd Street.
I shared a room with three other women - Christina, with short black hair and a love of rhythm and blues; Sharon, a diffident type closer in personality to me, with thick-lensed glasses; and Tracey, a hard partier with sandy hair and fair skin who did not speak much and loved margaritas.
I spent a lot of time with these girls and other CMU students, going to nightclubs, sightseeing, and attending group meetings and seminars. Whenever I could, I pulled out my artist's pad and drew pictures of what I saw, because my camera was so cheap and inadequate. A couple students insisted I draw portraits of them, which I labeled and dated in my usual practice before handing the final product over. I had taken several art classes in high school and at Central to hone my talents. My parents had discouraged me from becoming an artist, especially my mom with her imagery of an emaciated me in some dank garret somewhere. However, as a hobby it was fine, and I pursued it every chance I got.
Every night I didn't sleep more than five hours. On Sunday, I could barely pry my eyes open, and I was afflicted with homesickness. I wanted to return to CMU's home campus in Mount Pleasant.
Our plane back to Detroit Metro didn't depart Newark International until about 6:30 p.m. That left us with some time to kill. Christina seemed a fount of boundless energy. She was a night owl and leader type. She said to everyone: "Let's go to the World Trade Center. Who's coming?"
Tracey and Sharon said, "I will! We are!"
I stared at Christina, seeing visions of King Kong, cradling Jessica Lange in his paw. "Joanie?" she said.
"C'mon it'll be fun. We're going to the top."
"Forget it. I don't like heights." My images shifted to the dead Kong lying in the plaza between the towers.
"The observation deck's enclosed. You won't feel afraid up there."
"I'm almost broke. I need the money for our van back to Newark." I saw spectators surrounding the tragic ape's carcass. Jessica Lange was crying.
"You already paid that! It only costs three bucks to go to the Trade Center. You've got that, don't you?"
"I think I do."
"Look, you don't just want to sit around the hotel waiting. That's boring, Joanie."
"I can watch TV."
"That's dull. You came to New York to have fun."
"I've had fun for three days already."
"You can have even more fun today. Why don't you come along with us? You could draw pictures of the views!"
"C'mon. It'll be a great ending to our trip."
"Oh, all right. Good grief. Okay, I'll go." I sighed.
"Great. We'll leave soon."
She went to the next bedroom and recruited the three other occupants with this same tour guide-cheerleader hybrid. She was so loud that her voice penetrated the walls.
This is one reason I don't like to be over-tired. I enter "sheep mode," cheerily and mutely accepting the direction of others. Much of the time I had been dressed down for complaining, defying authority and questioning things. But in those when I was worn out, I became a happy little servant.
I was so ragged that I simply wanted to push through the day, crawl aboard the jet, and go home. I found myself at the tail end of a line of seven young women trooping to the second tallest building on the planet at that time.
At that time, my hair was cut short, punk rocker style, ending in spikes all over. I was dressed in baggy jeans, a gray jacket and a shirt with two Japanese geishas on it in an explosion of colors. I had bought it a couple days earlier at a boutique in SoHo. I had a pair of ratty blue Nike tennis shoes. There was a small MTV button on my lapel, a prize to me at the time because I got it from an employee of the then-new cable network. I was fixated on MTV during my college years, watching it for hours.
Christina led the other six of us to the subway stop on Broadway. I bought a copy of the Daily News from a newsstand on our way there and shoved it into a carrying bag on my shoulder.
I found buying tokens and going through the turnstiles to be fascinating. The train that stopped for us was splotched with graffiti, just like in the movies. We sat or stood as seating permitted as the train rattled its way toward Lower Manhattan.
Christina seemed to know way unerringly, so we followed her out at a stop whose name I forgot to memorize.
I saw several shops and restaurants in the station. We went up to street level. The light hurt my eyes, even though the sky was overcast.
The group gasped as we approached the Twin Towers across Liberty. After we had crossed the street, many of the girls craned their necks to study them and then took out cameras.
I screwed up my face and whispered, "It's even more gigantic than I thought." I swear I couldn't see the tops of those off-white blocks.
We came into the south tower lobby. That gargantuan chamber had a coolness that began to penetrate my tired state and spark my unease. Why was such a broad space so inhuman and harsh? It seemed to snuff out the spirit with its vastness. The whole thing also looked so dated, rooted in aesthetics that screamed 1960s. A couple years later I would learn the name of this architecture type - International Style.
Our group was on the mezzanine, which was lined with clear railings topped with chrome. I looked down and saw the bank of elevators, familiar to me from Jeff Bridges running to them to get to the tower's apex in his attempt to rescue Jessica Lange. There weren't that many people going to them, because it was Sunday.
I took out my sketchbook and began to draw the tourists, the pale walls, the gothic windows and other elements. I deliberately used simple lines to capture the place's starkness and sterility. Trade Center Lobby, NYC, March 28, 1982 - ice cold place, I wrote beneath the picture.
As I stood in line finishing the drawing, the first inkling of Rebellion, of why I would pay money to suspend myself above America's largest city, began to appear in my mind as a hulking boxer. He warred with another called Curiosity, a need to see this building that first frightened me on the news 12 years before, and riveted my attention to the TV over two nights in 1978, as I viewed the King Kong remake. The victor of this bout, which I imagined unfolding at Madison Square Garden, would be selected soon.
I was packed tightly in among other tourists in the elevator; I was happy I did not have claustrophobia as well. It had so many buttons that it was another thing to fascinate me. "Triple digits," I said softly. Just strange to see buttons exceeding 100.
When the lift hit the 107th, we had arrived. The doors slid open. We walked up an inclined floor to the great, squared room with floor-to-ceiling windows.
"All right, everyone," Christina said, "let's go look at New York City!"
We entered the deck area. The other five pulled out cameras and charged for the windows. These had low, narrow, metal little benches with curving sides bolted to the window frames. Tourists could either kneel or sit upon them and look straight down.
"C'mon, Joanie, you too!" Christina said, with a wave of her arm toward those narrow bands of glass.
I took out my own camera; a terribly inadequate Kodak Instamatic I had owned for a decade. I frowned at it, put it away and instead pulled out my sketchpad. I drew a picture of the tourists at the windows, sitting, kneeling, pointing, chatting, shooting pictures, and looking out a telescope. I labeled this one, Tourists gawk like maniacs - World Trade Center observatory, NYC, March 28, 1982.
"Joanie, what are you doing back there?" Christina shouted to me. "Why don't you come over and draw what's out here?"
I timidly approached a window with my drawing pad. One look at the acutely miniaturized structures outside, and a river that from our vantage that resembled Grandma Morris' backyard creek, was enough.
KO to Curiosity by Rebellion's left hook! Bout over! The winnah and new world champeen - Rebellion! The crowd here at the Garden goes wild!
My stomach turned tight, and then queasy. I backed away from the window. I felt breakfast rising, a disgusting taste of coffee burping up. I turned and ran, panicked and horrified by this Lilliputian Gotham. My sole mission was to find a ladies' room before disaster followed Rebellion's victory.
I smashed past the door and knocked aside a second one into a stall. My knees buckled after I lifted the toilet seat. I retched three times, my toast, sausage, eggs over easy, hash browns, and two cups of coffee expelled. I struggled to my feet and staggered, only to lose balance again. Then nothing. All became dark.
When I regained consciousness, a harsh fluorescent light shined in my eyes. Voices murmured. Three women speaking a musical Scandinavian language stood to my left. Christina and Sharon were my right. Other obscure figures seemed to hover at the door.
My head was on something soft; a man's suit coat, I saw later. I could see a man's hand beneath my nose holding a rounded tube - smelling salts.
"She's awake now," this thirty-something in his shirtsleeves said. He had receding strawberry blond hair, and had spoken to a girl about my age with black hair in a sculpted short cut. She may have been wearing a uniform or some kind of smock.
He looked down at me. "How do you feel?" He sounded like Bugs Bunny at first. I think he was from Brooklyn. "Are you okay?"
"I think," I said. My eyes narrowed to shut out the garish light. "Where am I? What happened?"
"You're in a restroom in the World Trade Center observation deck." I groaned when he said that. "You passed out."
I figured he was a manager. He jerked his head toward the three women at left. "These three ladies from Norway found you unconscious and facedown on the floor, along with this." He showed me my artist's pad. The women nodded and murmured in accented English. "Then they came and got us. It took a hell of a time to find your group. Do you know what happened?"
Christina squatted down next to me. "Yeah, Joanie. You had me worried there when you ran off. What happened?"
"The height," I said. "I couldn't take the height."
"Fear of heights, huh?" the manager said. I nodded. "We've got to deal with that up here once in a while."
"Yes, I'm scared of them. All I know is when I saw that tiny New York, I got sick. I ran away, threw up, and then everything went blank."
"How do you feel right now?"
"Better. I want to go home."
Christina said, "It's not time to go yet."
"What? Why can't we just leave, Christina? Our plane!"
"It doesn't leave for over four hours." She shook her head. "The rest of us aren't done. How about this? You don't have to look outside, Joanie. Maybe you could just wait somewhere while we finish sightseeing."
The manager and the girl with sculpted hair reached down to help me up. "You're ruthless - you and your stinking sightseeing," I said to Christina. "But if you really have to do it, I guess I'm captive. Try to wrap it up, though. It's torture to be here."
Christina laughed at this remark. "It's only torture if you're scared. I think the views are awesome." That remark strongly reminded me of Jill.
Inside I was screaming and badly wanted to knock something down. Maybe the wastebasket by the sinks. I struggled to stay in control.
"You can go sit in the concessions area, if you want," the manager said. You can face away from the windows. That might help." They led me out of the restroom. I saw my pallid face and sunken eyes in the mirror. There seemed to be a grid work on my face - I realized that the tile floor had left impressions in my skin! The spikes of my hair were either smashed down on my scalp or chaotically poking every which way. I raised a hand to my head to try and neaten my hair.
Gawkers stood by the door as the manager and worker led me outside, followed by the Norwegians, Christina and Sharon. The crowd parted and dispersed back to the windows.
They led me to concessions. The area was decorated in tacky multi-colored neon and chrome. "Give her something to drink," the manager ordered one of the attendants. "What do you want?"
"Orange pop, thanks," I said. I felt steady enough for my helpers to release me. I turned to Christina and Sharon. "You two go back to your sightseeing. I'll wait here for you."
Sharon said, "Take it easy, Joanie. Just relax and don't work yourself up again."
Christina patted me on the shoulder. "Okay. Loosen up, will you? You never told me you were afraid of heights."
The manager handed me my pop and a couple of napkins. I smiled weakly and whispered "thanks."
I said to Christina, "You never gave me much of a chance to tell you with that rah-rah-let's-all-go-to-the-World-Trade-Center thing this morning. 'The hotel would be so boring, Joanie,' you said. Remember?"
"I do. You should've said something, but now it's too late. You're up here. Just go sit down and relax, and we'll be back before you know it." Sharon nodded silently. They walked away, leaving me with the manager. He gave me my camera and paused before passing over my pad to me.
"This is a really good picture you made here," he said. "I like how you show how eager the tourists are as they look outside. Are you an artist?"
"Thank you, but no, just a serious amateur."
"It's still good, though. Too bad you probably can't draw what's outside."
"That's true. Maybe I can sketch the people in the snack bar."
"That's a good idea. Take it easy; you've been through a lot.
"Thanks again for your help," I said. "I think I'll go rest."
He smiled and nodded. "We want all our guests to have a pleasant and comfortable experience."
I shrugged and went into the dining area. I found a table near the back and sat down with my back to the windows. I sipped the orange pop a bit and opened up the sketchpad. I turned my chair just enough so I could see other diners, but no hint of the floor-to-ceiling windows that I swore would again evoke vertigo and nausea. I drew two old men speaking a foreign tongue and a young family with an infant and toddler. I wrote underneath: Trade Center deck, snack bar, NYC, March 28, 1982, chowing down. I fainted before drawing this. Yuck.
I set aside the pad and took out my copy of the Daily News from the tote bag. Sipping my beverage, I read a story about Ronald Reagan, which I had folded back. I picked up my drawing pad again and made a quick study of him, which I labeled Prez Ronnie, '82. My fatigue returned after plowing through the story and sketching. My mind receded, and I rediscovered blackness.
The next sensation was of being rocked and Christina's voice calling my name several times, growing louder every time she repeated.
I lifted my head, my eyes still closed. "Has the jet landed at Metro yet?" I asked.
Female voices giggled. I opened my eyes and saw the six girls there, some shaking their heads and pointing at me. I became aware that something white was over my left eye. My right eye also was blinded when Christina pointed her camera at me and took a shot.
She peeled the object off my face and set it on the table - a napkin. It had stuck to my face while I had slept, due to my perspiration.
Christina gave me a smile like a mom to a lost child. "No, Joanie, we haven't even gotten to the airport yet." She chuckled and shook her head "Boy, you must have been in a deep sleep."
"Yeah," Sharon said. "We're still at the World Trade Center."
"The World Trade-ugh! Yeck! I can't seem to get out of here!" I said.
"This day's really been hard, huh?" I nodded at Sharon.
One of the girls from the neighboring hotel room pointed at me. "You are so funny!" She could not stop laughing. "Look, she's got Reagan on her cheek!"
The others laughed louder. I looked down at the newspaper and saw that the photo of Ronald Reagan and the surrounding text were faint and smudged. "Her face has ink on it!" her roommate said.
"She looks like she's got war paint on," the third screamed. "Fire up, Chips!"
"Yeah! Let's go, fire up, Chips!" the first girl said. Others joined in this cheer for our university nickname, the Chippewas.
"Ooh-wah-Chips! Oooooh-wah-CHIPS!" People at other tables stared. "Chip-ooh-wahs! Fight! Fight! YEAH!" The girls applauded and whistled.
All of them, even kindly Sharon, would not stop laughing and acting as if we were at Percy Shorts Stadium for a football match. Christina took another picture of me, and I ended up all but blind with a flickering light from the flash. I waved my arm at her, acting as if I was going to grab her 35-millimeter.
I grabbed another napkin and started violently wiping at my face. I stood up and glared at them. I crammed my paper and sketchpad into my tote bag and strode out of the dining area and back to the restroom. They followed me, still chatting and giggling softly. "Let me get this crap off my face, and then let's get the hell out of here."
Inside I cleaned my face to the best of my ability, splashing cold water all over my flushed and sweaty face. I bared my teeth at myself in the mirror.
"Curses," I whispered. "I, the Lioness of Terra Firma, foiled by a tall building!" I wetted my comb and ran it through my hair, which was just trashed.
I looked down at the sinks and bared my teeth again. My anger boiled, and I saw sparks of light before my eyes. I kicked a sink, one, twice, three times.
"ROARRRR!" I raised my arms above my head, pumping my fists to the ceiling.
"ROARRRR! ROARRRR!" And I did deliver a kick to a waste bin. It teetered and fell against the wall. I dashed for the door. I shoved past two women coming in. Their smiles melted when they saw my red, sweaty, violent face.
I returned to the group, which began moving toward the elevator. I walked behind them, a coil of barely controlled fury. They were clustered together, cheered and united by my misfortune. I didn't say a word during the elevator ride down, nor when we re-entered the lobby Before we exited, I began to kick again, this time at one of the marble-covered window frames.
"Stupid, stupid building. I hate you! I never want to come back here ever again! Ow!" The wall hurt my foot, which I massaged. The group burst into giggles again.
I stood and turned. I raised my right arm, fist clenched, and directed this promise to the chandeliers: "Not for a million million dollars, will I ever see you again, you scumsucking, overgrown place, you ugly hunk of steel and concrete! I will never, ever, ever in all of my existence ever return here to you. And that is a promise set in granite forever more!"
Christina snapped pictures of me kicking and cursing the structure. The girls laughed more. I scowled at her. She coaxed the rest of them into a formation for a group photo. I refused to join them.
I was the first to exit the south tower of the World Trade Center. I charged across Liberty Street, my face burning. While they turned to gaze up at the spires again, and take photos, I acted like Lot from the Book of Genesis. I never looked back, pretending the Twin Towers would turn me into a pillar of salt if I ever set eyes on them. I stared straight ahead until we descended the stairs into the subway station.
While we waited in the terminal at Newark International, I tried to defuse my anger by drawing the travelers and the bustle. I could see the New York skyline and made a quick study of that, too. I drew arrows pointing at the Twin Towers and wrote: A really disgusting place. I drew another pointing at the Empire State Building and wrote: Sir Empire must defend himself against the two big dragons (the disgusting ones).
{To PART 5 of Persistence of Memory}


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Published on Mar 7, 2012
Dear friends and colleagues:
It's my great pleasure to announce that Mary Channen Caldwell and Martha Sprigge have both won prestigious 2012-13 Stuart Tave Teaching Fellowships in the College.
Mary's is awarded to teach "Singing Songs: Music, Poetry, and Pop Culture, circa 1000-1500." Martha's is awarded to teach "Music, War, and Trauma in the 20th Century."
Hats off to Mary and Martha for these great wins!!


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Occasionally, investors may feel like they are riding on a wild roller coaster when dealing with the stock market. Controlling emotions when taking the ride may assist with making necessary decisions when the time comes. Many investors choose to do thorough research when purchasing any stock. Knowing what is owned and why it is owned may help ease the mind when things get sticky. When the market is riding high and there is generally smooth sailing on the investing seas, individual investors may have the tendency to get complacent. Being prepared for any situation may help ease the stress of big market decision making. There may be a time when it seems like everything is going off the rails, but having an actual game plan for management and recovery could make a huge difference both financially and psychologically.
Tracking some stock ratings, we can see that the stock's Moving Average Rating is currently pointing to a "Strong Buy" for Synchronoss Technologies, Inc. (NASDAQ:SNCR). Traders may be monitoring many different indicators in order to get a grasp of where the stock may be moving in the near future. Taking a look at the Oscillators rating, we note that the reading is pointing to a "Neutral".
Following trading action on shares of Synchronoss Technologies, Inc. (NASDAQ:SNCR), we see that the stock has moved 0.16 since the opening price of 5.9. So far, the stock has reached a high of 6.07 and dipped to a low of 5.87. The consensus rating on the stock is currently Buy, and today's volume has been measured around 2800.
Technical traders have many tools at their disposal when conducting stock research. One of those tools is the Exponential Moving Average or EMA. The EMA is similar to the simple moving average, but more weight is put on the newest data. Let's look at some different EMA levels:
10 day Exponential Moving Average: 5.550203
20 day Exponential Moving Average: 5.4633546
30 day Exponential Moving Average: 5.471332
50 day Exponential Moving Average: 5.5957475
100 day Exponential Moving Average: 5.975243
200 day Exponential Moving Average: 6.478229
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Taking a look at the Donchian Channels indicator, we note that the 20 day lower band is 5.09. The 20 day upper band is 6.08. This indicator was created by Richard Donchian, and traders follow these channels to help identify potential trading signals.
Traders will take note of the 20 day Chaikin Money Flow indicator that is now at -0.02909711. The value of this indicator will fluctuate between 1 and -1. Traders may be watching when the CMF crosses zero. This cross might point to a bullish or bearish price reversal depending on which way it is moving crossing the zero line.
The Awesome Oscillator reading is currently 0.15933824. Technical traders will watch the AO especially when it crosses above or below the zero line. A move above the line may signal a bullish scenario. A move below the zero line may indicate a bearish selling opportunity. The AO may prove to be a valuable tool for many momentum traders.
There are a number of different pivot points that traders can use when conducting stock analysis. Pivot points can be useful for traders looking to establish trading entry and exit points. Focusing on some popular one month pivots for Synchronoss Technologies, Inc. (NASDAQ:SNCR), we see that the Woodie pivot is currently at 5.2425. The Woodie support 1 pivot is 5.065, and the Woodie resistance 1 pivot is 5.395. The Camarilla one month pivot is presently 5.2433333. The one month Classic pivot is 5.2433333 and the Classic resistance 1 is 5.3966665 while the Classic support 1 pivot is measured at 5.0666666.
As most investors most likely have learned, there is no easy answer when deciding how to best take aim at the equity market, especially when faced with a volatile investing scenario. There are many different views when it comes to trading stocks. Investors may have to first come up with a plan in order to build a solid platform on which to compile a legitimate strategy. The vast amount of publically available data can seem overwhelming for novice investors. Making sense of the sea of information may do wonders for the health of the individual investor's holdings.
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*MII is the abbreviation of "Media Independent Interface". Most fast Ethernet adapters use an MII to auto negotiate link speed and duplex setting.
*These messages are only informative messages and do not affect the Server's functionality in any way.


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Kansas State University
D.J. Reed found stardom at Kansas State, but his NFL Draft journey was unconventional
D.J. Reed started his college football career as a walk-on, spent a season in junior college and arrived at Kansas State two years ago as an unheralded defensive back.
Now he's a NFL prospect.
The unconventional path he took to this point makes this a special week for Reed. It wasn't that long ago that he thought about quitting the sport as freshman at Fresno State and worried he might not make it to a power conference as an unknown juco recruit at Cerritos College in Norwalk, Calif. But he came into his own as a starter and captain at K-State and figures to be the first Wildcat selected in the upcoming NFL Draft.
"I am very happy at how far I came," Reed said in a phone interview. "I look back and just say, 'Wow.' There were times when I wanted to quit at Fresno State, just forget football and do something else. I thought I wasn't good enough. It's really just motivating to be where I am now. Can't quit, can't lose, just keep working and get better — my journey shows perseverance."
Reed expects to be selected in either the fourth or fifth round of the NFL Draft, which means he will likely hear his name called on Saturday. The draft begins Thursday with the first round, and continues Friday with rounds two and three.
A handful of teams have shown high interest in Reed. He said he has worked out for the New England Patriots, Arizona Cardinals, Tennessee Titans, New Orleans Saints, Baltimore Ravens and Houston Texans. Those meetings all took place after the NFL Scouting Combine, where he ran the 40-yard dash in 4.51 seconds.
"I feel like my film speaks for itself," Reed said. "You can kind of tell the player I am — a high-energy playmaker. What you are going to get is a guy who is going to be a leader inside and outside of the locker room. This is how I provide for my family, so I take football very seriously. I do all the little things some players don't."
It wasn't easy turning himself into a NFL hopeful from his humble beginnings, especially with a 5-foot-9 frame. But Reed jumped into the conversation at K-State as both a cover corner and a kick returner. His size was never an issue.
First, he rose to the top of the depth chart at corner, where he was one of the best defenders in the Big 12. During his two years in Manhattan, Reed piled up 125 tackles and seven interceptions while defending 25 passes.
Then, as a senior, he also thrived as a return man. Reed formed one of the nation's most dangerous return tandems playing alongside Byron Pringle. He went on to top 1,000 return yards and scored a pair of touchdowns.
"A lot of teams want me to return, as well as play slot corner in the NFL," Reed said. "I am very open to that."
Moving to the slot will be new for Reed, but it's a change he has already embraced. Last season, he openly suggested he could help the Wildcats by shadowing the other team's top receiver, even in the slot, rather than exclusively focus on one side of the field.
"At slot corner, you have got to know more of the defense. Where is your help coming from? Where is not coming from?" Reed said. "But it feels fun. You are closer to the ball. I have quick feet and I have great awareness. I think I am going to do very well there."
Reed became such a versatile playmaker that he chose to declare for the NFL Draft as a junior, rather than return to K-State for his senior season.
But that decision was based on more than draft potential.
"When I declared I wasn't really worried about what round I would be drafted in, because I knew how good I was and how good I can be," Reed said. "It was more about me just wanting to help out my mom. She is my everything. She has been working the same job (at a career services center in Bakersfield, Calif.) for over 30 years. I want to take some weight off her shoulders. That was the main reason I left."
Reed has come a long way since his days at Fresno State and his pit stop in junior college. He helped K-State win 17 games and a pair of bowls. Now he's ready to take another step.
His journey continues.
"I have gotten better at every stop," Reed said, "and that's not going to change when I get to the NFL."


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Voice Talent? We want to hear from you
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We will ask all applicants for a sample clip, so that we can post it on our website for our clients to hear. If they request to work with your voice, we will ask you to complete the job.
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When you get involved in a voice-over project, All-In Translations will deliver the translation for you to record. You can rest assured that it has been translated correctly and proofread by professionals that are experienced in the gaming field.
All-In Translations has a solid reputation in the language industry, first and foremost meaning that we always pay our linguists on time. This is obviously the case for our voice-talent as well. Read about us here and about our company history here.
Questions? Email firstname.lastname@example.com


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We know just how easy it is to (somehow!) lose a shoe at a scout event, on an outing or a Jamboree! Our shoe labels will put a stop to rummaging around in Lost and Found to find that elusive sneaker or school shoe. Customisable shoe labels make shoes and boots easy to identify and very easily returnable.