Dear Google - Am I Such a Horrible Person?

Dear Google - It has been about two years since you banned my AdSense account, me, my website, my blog, anything ever associated with me in past, present or future, from using you to monetize my blogs. With 55,673 page views, those tedious little ads could have helped us cover some costs around here - classes for the kids, animal feed, groceries, gas. But, no. Any attempt to use AdSense is impossible.

I'd sure like you to reconsider. I've stopped blogging quite so much. Instead, I'm writing for newspapers and others who pay me for my service, but I do miss writing in my own style on subjects that interest me most. I miss sharing the information in which I'm gained some expertise, but I also have to balance my time between sharing information freely in this time of free information with covering costs here at home. Free information sharing doesn't pay the bills, or even buy a tutu.

I'll never know what caused this ban. You won't tell people. You won't even give us hints, per your website: "Because we have a need to protect our proprietary detection system, we're unable to provide our publishers with any information about their account activity, including any web pages, users, or third-party services that might have been involved." Was it the offensive nature of this blog, which typically features posts about family travel (where we go, how we get there and how other families can hit the road), tips for getting out and about locally (I have a bit of expertise on the Central Coast), pointers for homeschoolers, and the occasional rant about parenting or politics? Funny...When I was banned, I turned off my safe search mode when the kids were sleeping, entered some R-rated terminology and came up with some pretty messed up sites on which AdWords were floating.

At the time, one of the potential reasons I found was "placing ads in iFrames." So I went to my blogger page to read the HTML. And you know what I found? iFrames! Were my ads placed in iFrames? Probably. Because that was what Blogger used at the time, it seems. (I still don't even know what the heck an iFrame is.) So, perhaps we had a coding glitch. But who codes Blogger? Ummm...isn't this a Google property?

I've delayed posting this public letter because I fear repercussion. You do, after all, own the service which has provided me a channel for sharing my voice. Perhaps you'll take the blog down altogether. That would be a shame.

Instead, I hope someday you'll forgive me for whatever my foible was; perhaps even SHARE with me so I don't make the same mistake again.

Running for Fun and Fitness

The height of my running career came when I beat the thencetofore fastest kid in school, Charlie Horton. We were in fourth grade. Maybe he was having an off day, and the fact that I was the tallest kid in the class certainly couldn't have hurt. Then came the school track meet. All I remember about that 100-yard dash was that, when we took off, a nickel rolled down my lane in front of me. I watched it roll, then tripped, reflecting the true nature of my running prowess. The following summer I joined the swim club and, except as an assignment or punishment in p.e., I didn't bother with running for more than a quarter century.

In 2008, I spotted the State Street Mile, a straight, downhill, single-mile run in downtown Santa Barbara, just an hour's drive south of our house. The event includes heats divided by age group, novice versus elite, and a fun run. V, who most wanted to run, was only 6 and, with her dad running along the sidelines for support, ran in the early heat of youngsters. After she and her dad had walked back up the mile, she was pooped. Then it was time for the fun run. We all jogged at the girls' pace for a short distance before Mr. B hefted V onto his shoulders. She rode, like a cowgirl on her pony, the rest of the race, her hair flying in the breeze made by her daddy's speed.

Today, while looking up the dates for this year's State Street Mile, I found this video. If you don't have time (or desire) to watch it all, fast forward to 2:35 to see one happy little girl on her trusty Daddy Steed. She's also shown ( at :30) before hear early morning start, red-hoody up, eyes staring into the distance - is she visualizing her race? And in the kids' start, way off to the side (:35-:39).


State Street Mile 2009 from Brent Cappello on Vimeo.

Social Media - Good, Bad or Indifferent?

A reporter interviewed me recently for a story she's writing on social media. Given the subject, the interview was given electronically. I thought I'd share my thoughts with you, too. What do YOU think? I'm sure she'd love to hear from you.

Alrighty. You asked for it. I'm pretty wordy. Grab a cup o' tea...

I got into blogging accidentally. For one of my high school class reunions, the only way to get information was to be a member of the blogging site. Then I published a book, and since the blog was in place, I decided I'd try to use it for a bit of free marketing. I didn't actually find it very useful quite possibly because I didn't make the most use of it. The blog then evolved into a multi-purpose tool: providing book information; providing local adventure information; keeping our friends, family and followers updated on our multiple travels; and answering questions about homeschool. (I had answered the same questions over and over again via e-mail queries, so opted to post my answers once online, then provide links to those answers when I received the same question, yet again, from new homeschoolers - saved me LOADS of time!)

But why do I bother to blog? I'm an obsessive writer. I've tried to quit, but then find myself writing in margins, in journals, on random sheets of paper. My mind is always going, and I'm a talkative sort, so blogging gives me somewhere to share my thoughts with anyone who cares to listen. I have experiences that may help others (travel and homeschooling, among others). And if no one cares to listen, I suppose that's OK, too, though I think every writer likes to think her words and works are of values to others.

Social media is a strange beast. I think it can create a false sense of friendship, but I suppose no more so than the old method of snailmail pen pals. It's so easy to quickly associate and just as quickly disassociate from strangers and acquaintances. With a click of a button, we've made a friend or lost one. On the other hand it has also provided a tool for linking people with shared interests who may otherwise never have met each other. I've found long lost friends, even long lost relatives, and made new friends around the world - friends who I WILL meet during their travels or ours. I think the time suck of social media is very distracting and counterproductive (bad), but the ability to interact with humans is fantastic.

I edit myself HEAVILY when I write certain entries on my blog. I also choose NOT to blog about certain issues, particularly very personal family issues or health issues for the large part. But it’s AMAZING what people DO share online. We’ve all read entertaining, perhaps offensive, blog entries. When I read them, I first am astonished, perhaps entertained, but I always wonder what their family and close friends think about their work. Then I remind myself that their family and friends probably understand because these are probably issues the blogger is just as willing to talk about in real life with whomever will listen. Bloggers who do so anonymously may have no sense of propriety, or maybe they just need an outlet, or maybe they’re just obsessive writers like I am.

I think social media has degraded human interaction. There’s a lot to be said for the body language that goes with verbal language. We’ve all experienced it: an e-mail or text misunderstood because quick bursts of text on a page or phone doesn’t convey all the nuances personal interaction can. Even talking on the phone is not as effective as talking in person. I also think people have misguided values when it comes to social media. What exactly is a friend? Is it a clicking competition on a website, or is it a person who will be there for you when times get tough in real life? In times of need, I don’t need a click, I need a hug, a hand, a tow, a jump start, a real, live person.

Why do we spend so much time connecting online? The glowing tube is, oh, so attractive. Think about the television – it provides information and entertainment while we sit idly by. But online entertainment is much more interactive, therefore, for many of us, even more compelling. We’re part of the story, part of the game, we’re learning and if nothing else, our brains are suckers for novelty. Plus, there are rewards of sorts to our online adventures, like notes from true friends, answers to questions, discovering old friends, bits of information we find compelling. And once connected, we’re not all that different from the rats in a test maze. The maze itself is interesting, but around SOME corners there are rewards. We keep running hoping to find that rewarding corner. It’s out there. And each time we get our little treat, we carry on. We’re addicts of an electronic sort.

Blogging Honors

Wow, what a surprise this morning to receive an e-mail from The Homeschool Post notifying me that this blog, my blog, has been nominated for its Sixth Annual Homeschool Blog Awards! It seems anyone is invited to nominate a blog, and, now that voting is open, anyone may vote.

There are some pretty fantastic blogs out there these days representing myriad voices which, until the internet came along with its clackety keyboard and 24-hour availability, went largely unheard. While I prefer to cuddle with a good book, I confess I find myself reading the glowing screen with increasing frequency. So much to learn, to enjoy, to peruse, all with the ease of a few relaxing keystrokes.

I have plans for this blog, plans to reorganize, plans to write more consistently, plans for giveaways and further reviews. They're somewhere right in there with keeping up with homeschooling plans, family plans, offline writing projects, volunteer commitments and personal fitness. Meanwhile, I'm glad to know readers are enjoying my take on the world.

Thank you for the honor.

Discovering the Okie in Me

Well, anyone who's known me for very long knows that, deep down, there must be some good ol' fashion Okie in me. It doesn't show in the family tree, but it certainly shows in my packing skills, my pick-up-and-go-itiveness (like that one?), my lack of shame in accepting used (and sometimes almost used up) items for reuse in my own domain. My suburban survival skills apparently lack for nothing.

Case in point - the materials for Flo's new abode. The donors saw the old coop in their newly acquired backyard as little more than a mess to remove. I saw potential and VERY gratefully accepted their donation. ("You pick it up, it's all yours!") It wasn't supposed to be a one-woman job, but I didn't really have anyone available during my open hours, so I made it work. (Check out the loading job on the minivan. You can IMAGINE the looks I got rolling down the freeway toward home!)



This week, the girls and I returned to the scene of the hutch pickup to gather the rest of the surrounding coop. Then, V and I banged together a nesting box for our new guest from scrap wood we've saved from a variety of other projects. (You never know WHEN those scraps'll come in handy, I kept saying whenever the urge to clean out the garage came upon us.) V had some great ideas, including the hinged lid and making the box accessible from the outside (rather than through the coop). She did a bang up job of hammering in the nails, too. I cut a hole in the screen on one side of the donated hutch, attached the new nesting box with E's assistance, then, after a bit of cleaning and a coat of paint, VOILA!

Next up, cleaning the second hutch, cutting a hole in the OTHER side of the old one and one side of the yet-to-be-upgraded one, then attaching the two together to double the size of Flo's Abode. We'll completely enclose the second half so she has the option of getting completely out of the elements, or hanging out in the breeze. We can always seal the whole thing up if weather ever turns really bad here, but chances are we won't need that in our climate.

Where's the Truth in Journalism?

Hurrah for Lance Armstrong, who called Outside Magazine's choice to heavily manipulate his cover shot "lame bull$#@*." While in a sporting goods store this past weekend I happened to catch a glimpse of the embattled cover and I've got to say: I'm with you, Lance. Photographs should represent the truth of the matter, not be doctored, particularly without the subject's permission, to include material that never shared the stage. Now Outside is just one more media outlet I can no longer trust. If the cover shot isn't true, how do I know the copy is?

Back in my day - yeah, way back then - journalism students were required to take media ethics. Students who couldn't be bothered to take the class were not awarded diplomas. Students who failed didn't earn that Mystical Piece of Paper until they managed to get the idea. The single-term class covered the history, theory and practice of print and broadcast media with a particular focus on ethical dilemmas.

Among the hot topics was the potential for changing the viewers' perspective of an event through photo editing. While the rhetoric of reporting is, by its nature, subjective, the photographic depictions of events were thought to be more objective. The camera told no lies, didn't color the story with it's own sordid history, didn't have opinions either way on the world it saw. The camera merely recorded that split second of time for all to see.

We spent hours discussing the ethics surrounding photography in news media. How much information should be shared? What can be cropped, what cannot? Should presenting news images ever involve dodging or burning out information? What if, for instance, there's a certain soda can in a news image; is it alright to remove the can so as not to provide free advertising, or not to offend paying advertisers? The consensus way back in those dark ages was: a photo should represent the true event. It should not be doctored to remove or add information that was not actually there when the image was taken.

Now, back in those days, photo creation and editing was not nearly as easy and accessible as it is today. It still involved a relatively tedious process. First we rolled film from giant rolls into camera-friendly canisters. Then we loaded the film canisters in the cameras, carefully extending the tail of the film across the film plate and aligned the square holes with the sprocket-like film guide teeth. When our shoot was complete, we cloaked ourselves in complete darkness to roll the film out of the canisters and onto reels (auto-load, if we were lucky), dropped them into tanks of caustic chemicals and agitated gently for a prescribed period of time. If we managed that half correctly, we were rewarded with tiny, still, negative images. Then came the printing: light-sensitive paper, clunky enlargers, more caustic chemicals, more darkness, some red light, squeegees, print dryers, stained clothes and, finally, the reward of photographic prints.

It was in the printing stage that serious doctoring could take place. But that was nothing like the changes we can make from the comfort and relatively cleanliness of our computer desks with photo editing software. The changes can be absolutely magical, but they also pose a problem on that ethics stage. When is editing too much? Is it OK to sharpen the focus? Is it alright to remove a blemish? If so, why, Outside is surely asking itself, is it not acceptable to place whatever logo the editor wants on a cover model's blank shirt? What's the big deal about printing "38" to represent his age and "B.F.D." to represent Outside's take on Lance's age in relation to the Tour de France?

The big deal is that Lance wore a plain shirt for the shoot. He didn't wear a sponsor-emblazoned shirt. He didn't go bare chested. And he didn't advertise his age and some editor's sentiment on the shirt he chose. He presented himself as he wanted to be seen, and editors created an entirely different message without seeking his approval. While the cover did note, in smaller text, that the shirt was doctored, the damage was already done - from news racks, passersby saw the large image, not the explanatory text. Really, it wasn't a lot different from BP doctoring its shots, creating UFO mythology, or removing pop stars' belly buttons and such. But Outside editors don't see it that way.

Think I'm a wacko? Well, at least I'm not alone. The message is clear: unless you saw it happen yourself, you really can't be sure what's presented is true. Take everything you read or see with a heavy dose of salt, do your own research, and think for yourselves. News, the stuff of tomorrow's history books, will never be the same.

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One-Minute Blogger: Monster

One of the distractions I discovered on the Internet is one of my favorite blogs: The One-Minute Writer. Each day, the blog owner posts a subject. Click on 60-second timer then tap away at the keyboard until the gentle buzzer sounds. (Don't forget to turn your speakers on first.)

Today's subject (Write a brief bit of fiction about a monster) and the story that flowed out of my fingertips made me laugh. I hope it provides you a weekend giggle, too.

I had the itch to get away, but they followed me everywhere - to work, home, the kitchen, even the blessed bathroom. I couldn't shake them. Their long, dark, rough hair against that pale skin gave me the creeps, but what could I do?! It had been weeks since they first made their presence known, growing stronger and more irritating by the day. I was beginning to lose my mind. I snapped and started to run, screaming, from the car. But my daughter, my voice of reason, called me back.

"Mom! I think it's time to shave your legs!"



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No Texting, No Phoning - Keep Your Eyes on the Road

One of my aunts sent me this link. (I originally posted it on this blog, but since it auto-started, it disrupted other processes here. Just follow the link if you'd like to view it). I thought, particularly given how many people not only TALK on the phone while they drive, but who actually send and receive TEXT messages while they drive, it was an important video to share.

In California, they've outlawed talking on the phone while driving, unless you're wearing an ear-bud or some other hands-free device. (Or unless it's a radio-style phone - blame the lobbyists & politicians for that gaffe.) The National Highway Traffic Safety has known since 2003 that cell phone use while driving was potentially fatal, driving up accident rates by 400%.

Now U.S. text-enabled phone users send 1 billion text messages per year, many of them while driving a vehicle. When lawmakers penned this law, they overlooked the issue.

Texting (typing those messages with the cell phone, or reading such messages sent by friends, family or spammers if you have an internet enabled phone) while driving is inane. Seriously. How can we DRIVE, and TYPE and read a TINY SCREEN all at one time, while doing ANY of them well, or at least safely. The truth is, we can't.

What text is more important that your life, the lives of those you're shuttling, the lives of the other people on the road? None. In fact, if it's that important, pull to a safe spot off the highway, and make a call. You can communicate all that life-altering information more quickly by voice, while keeping yourself and everyone around you safe.

As this video discusses, it's not just the texter's life in jeopardy; it's everyone else on the road as well.

Please take 15 minutes to view it, then send your friends here to view it (or to the Utah Department of Transportation site from whence it originated).

For more information about texting and driving follow the links:
Texting riskier than pot, alcohol when driving, Wichita Eagle;
Five Teens Die in Crash, Cell Phone May Have Been Involved, New York;
latest texting news.

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Virtual Road Trip

OK, I just heard the weirdest thing. Well, it's the weirdest thing to someone who just hiked 6 miles with 50 pounds of backcountry supplies for the family on her back. It's weird to someone who took her girls on an 10,000-moile road trip last fall. Maybe it's weird to anyone who's actually experienced touching a glacier, racing through the sea with dolphins, flying over the Grand Canyon (and grunting back out of it on a hot day).

This morning on NPR's Morning Edition: Sunday, I heard this story about two guys, Peter Baldes of L.A. and Marc Horowitz of Richmond, Virginia, who are taking a virtual road trip across the U.S. They're using Google Maps, and streaming live video of their travels, complete with chat window so you can pretend you're in the back seat. A hitchhiker on their big adventure.

I was going to write about what a dumb idea this was. How these guys were really missing out on the road trip experience, the wind in their hair, the bug in their teeth, the people along the way.

Then I visited the trip. There they were, cruising through Oklahoma, talking about technology and personal history and the road, and the truck driver they were passing. (Would he look out the window? Ah...yes!)

So, yes, it's a weird idea to me. But maybe it's not so dumb after all. They're having a good time, spending time together the only way they can when living a nation apart, and sharing their trip with the world. Perhaps it's educational, perhaps it's mind-numbing at times, perhaps it can be offensive to some (though I found nothing offensive here - totally kid friendly today).

Still, I'll stick with the real road, bugs, family and friends new and old.

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Hob Nob Heaven

That's right. Sitting here at the computer desk with my PG Tips and Hob Nobs, I'm in midnight snack heaven. Don't know what I'm talking about? Well, it's about scrumptious hot tea and cool cookies. It's about tastebuds reliving their past. It's about the end of any diet you may have thought you'd be on. For heaven's sake, if nothing else it's about CHOCOLATE!

I learned about McVitie's Hob Nobs while living and traveling in England shortly after college graduation. My friend Kevin introduced me to these, my best, teatime friends. They're sugar-laden, crunch, thick, round oatmeal cookies of three varieties: plain; with a milk-chocolate layer; or with a dark-chocolate layer. Dip them in your hot tea and the chocolate wants to melt away; the oatmeal immediately softens. It's a messy, scrumptious delight.

The problem is this: they're difficult to find here on the Central Coast. Morro Bay's now defunct British Store used to sell them, but the only other place I've seen them on sale in California is at Odyssey Video in Stinson Beach.

So, imagine my excitement when I asked the owner of Old Town Market in Orcutt if he carried them, had an interest in carrying them, or could at least order some to give it a go - and he agreed. OK, I was sort of excited, but when I actually had them in my hot little hands, oh, you could smell the chocolate melting before I got 'em home!

If you want to try them, I believe those I DIDN'T snatch from that first case are on the shelves at Old Town Market. If you can't find them and staff hasn't a clue what you're talking about, ask for the owners, Mark and Wendy Steller. They may know what happened to the rest of the stash.

Now...back to my Hob Nobbin'.

Photo courtesy Missy & the Universe under Creative Commons License. I would have taken my own photos, but my Hob Nobs were gone by the time I got the camera out and ready.

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Boosting blog traffic - It's in all in the pits!

Most of my regular visitors couldn't care less about the shaving habits of the hardly rich and not-so famous. Turns out, however, that armpit hair is JUST the thing to write about if you want to see your blog traffic boost.

My blog entry about pit shaving (published April 1, no less) has turned out to be the most popular page I've released! According to Google Analytics, that page alone has generated, to date, 2,158 visits from 92 countries. It seems Americans, at 1,299 of those visits, are most interested in the subject, for a variety of reasons which I'll cover later. Germany (166) and India (162) ranked second and third with Canada, the U.K., and Indonesia in a close race for fourth. France, Singapore, Australia and Italy wrapped up the top 10.

Search queries which led visitors to this of all blog entries included "armpits," "I don't want to shave my armpits," "armpit shaving culture," and "sexy armpit blogs." Go figure.

For the record, no, that is not a photo of me. It is a work used by permission under Creative Commons License, as noted on that blog space. I may write about my pits, but I'm not about to post photos of them!

Why bother posting about them at all? Well, read the blog. It's really about culture and choice, not sex or drugs or nastiness. Really!

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Horseback Riding for All

If you received this update via e-mail, please note there ARE be associated photos available only on the actual blog. Visit site to see the latest.

Today we enjoyed a full day of family fun, beginning with horseback riding for all of us. Yep. I mean ALL of us. Even Mr. B climbed into the saddle for a few minutes. The girls have taken to riding bareback, and the shared lease I'm enjoying has me riding more confidently every day.



After our morning rides, we headed to Lompoc to enjoy People's Day at La Purisima Mission State Historic Park. The girls usually enjoy taking part in the activities which today included making soap, tasting the bread baked in the horno and spread with freshly churned butter, watching the coopers at work, and making pinch pots. And of course we stopped to pet the horses, tried to attract the donkeys (not interested in us one bit), and scratched a very appreciative Longhorn steer.



We capped off the day with "The Sound of Music" ala Julie Andrews.

Yep. Love these family days!

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