Richard

Richard

On This Date: Photo taken 11/11/2009

Dick loved that hat.

We picked up my brother in Kalamazoo and walked the South Haven beaches on this date in 2009.

This photo was taken at Van Buren State Park. We explored that beach for a while, then walked the beach in town. We likely ate at one of the downtown restaurants.


Joan and I generally get out and walk on Veterans Day weekend. Besides this South Haven excursion my photographs show multiple Baker Sanctuary trips, a few walks along the river in Grand Ledge, and a couple Port Huron outings.

Another version of the story is that I’ve been walking South Haven’s beaches my entire life. My family loved–and still loves–Lake Michigan’s shore. South Haven’s the closest shore to Kalamazoo, so that was our easiest destination.

Number of pix taken on various November 11ths: 172
Year of oldest photo: 2005

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 0
  • 2 Stars: 5
  • 3 Stars: 103
  • 4 Stars: 52
  • 5 Stars: 12

Farmyard

Farmyard

On This Date: Photo taken 10/14/2005

Near Vermontville, on State Road. Or so my notes say; I’d have guessed this was Vermontville Highway on the other side of town.

For the first few years I lived in the Lansing area I didn’t own a car, so I’d bicycle between my apartment in (or near) Lansing and my parents’ home in Kalamazoo a couple times a month. I’d leave from work on Friday evening, spend the weekend, and return on Sunday afternoon. Most of these trips took about 5 hours; if I hurried I could do the 75 miles or so in four.

I used a variety of routes, but most took me through Vermontville. I got to know the roads in that area quite well.

Vermontville was also about the farthest point I’d reach on my daily rides out of the Lansing area. Most evening rides were in the hour to 90 minute range, which wouldn’t reach that far, but if I wanted to stretch my legs after work I’d generally find my way to Vermontville Highway and head west, usually catching a snack at the Jones store where Mulliken Road crossed V-Ville Hwy. I’d ride a tailwind home and be back to my apartment by dark.


A side effect of those many backroads trips is that I sometimes take the same routes by automobile. While they’re slower than the highways I generally follow, they’re more interesting. This photo was taken on one such trip, a dozen years ago.

The colors were coming along nicely, I’d say. The outbuildings needed some work.

Number of pix taken on various October 14ths: 162 [includes two by my brother]
Year of oldest photo: 2005

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 20(!)
  • 2 Stars: 34
  • 3 Stars: 73
  • 4 Stars: 30
  • 5 Stars: 5

Lake Michigan, with dunes

Lake Michigan, with dunes

On This Date: Photo taken 9/22/2012

Five years ago we headed north for our usual Traverse City vacation to celebrate Joan’s birthday. It occurred to me that I didn’t remember making a reservation, so I got on the horn with Pointes North. Found I was right; hadn’t reserved a room. They could accommodate us starting tomorrow….

Made that reservation, then after a bit of discussion found us a Ludington hotel for the night. We told TomTom about our changed destination (discovering thereby that it calls the town “LOOdington”), followed its directions to the hotel, and found this view at the beach.

Pretty much justified the confusion. We had a good evening, and a good weekend.

I’ve told this story before.


Not doing TC this year. We’ll tell you about our plans presently, I’m sure.

Number of pix taken on various September 22nds: 493 [315 were of a single sunflower, with 15 more of another, from 2014]
Year of oldest photo: 2003

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 5
  • 2 Stars: 10
  • 3 Stars: 376
  • 4 Stars: 93
  • 5 Stars: 9

5 photos from Dick’s 2008 vacation, too; he and Debbie went to Mall of America.

Millrace

Millrace

On This Date: Photo taken 7/20/2004

Babcock State Park’s a pretty place in West Virginia’s New River Gorge where Joan and I have often vacationed. On various trips we’ve camped in a tent, camped in a popup trailer, and stayed in cabins. Obviously we enjoy the place.

The park’s mostly a rather steep wilderness on the side of the gorge, but its most famous feature is Glade Creek Mill. This is that mill, as the sign testifies, but it’s none of the usual pictures. I’ve taken those photographs, too, but….


This is the only digital photograph surviving from that vacation. I’ve film pix from that week, but I can’t confidently date those.

I’d bought my first digital camera in late 2002, and while I was still predominantly a film SLR photographer it was clear by the summer of 2004 that I needed to back up my digital images. So I began burning the pix to CDs. After a false start or two I came up with the system I still use, though it’s been augmented over the years. I began with the oldest digital pix and worked through 2003. At that point I took a break.

Then my laptop’s drive failed. The only digital pix that survived that failure were duplicated, for one reason or another, and stored away from that computer. This photo was one of those. But the larger reality is that I lost most digital images I took between Christmas of 2003 and October 2, 2004.

There’s a lesson in there….

And a new camera note: One year ago today I bought my D500. It’s been fun, but I’m still figuring it out….

Number of pix taken on various July 20ths: 1266
Year of oldest photo: 2004

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 0
  • 2 Stars: 91
  • 3 Stars: 934
  • 4 Stars: 206
  • 5 Stars: 35

The Broken Maple

The Broken Maple

On This Date: Photo taken 6/8/2003

June 8, 2003, was a Saturday. We worked in the yard and I photographed some flowers with my digital point-n-shoot. Then we went out to dinner. While we were away a storm blew through; it sounded pretty impressive in the restaurant.

Got home; found the neighbors out in the streets. Seems a twister’d hit Mulliken. A quick survey of our yard showed three young trees ruined, a wee bit of damage to our garage, and a bunch of knocked down flowers. We were fortunate.

The whole town was fortunate. Except for two large trees downed a bit north of us, no serious damage was done. But ’twas certainly a thrill.


Photographing that sort of damage is really quite difficult. When you think of a tornado you think of broken buildings; what our town had was mostly broken trees. My pix show pieces of trees here and there around the yard, the damage to our siding, and the flattened flower beds. Totally unimpressive.

This photo was taken with my film point-n-shoot and scanned from a negative.

Number of pix taken on various June 8ths: 637
Year of oldest photo: 1994

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 2
  • 2 Stars: 53
  • 3 Stars: 524
  • 4 Stars: 53
  • 5 Stars: 5

The Last Tulip

The Last Tulip

On This Date: Photo taken 4/25/2012

I like Tulips.

A year or so after buying this house I planted a lot of flowers in a bed behind the garage. A few years later we converted the plot into Joan’s veggie garden, and the flowers mostly went elsewhere–some to other locations in our yard; others to a neighbor’s place.

A few stubborn plants refused to move. This was the last; the photo was taken nearly two decades after I made the original plantings.


Over the past couple days the Tulips we moved elsewhere in the yard have begun to open. They’re quite lovely, delivering color as the Daffodils and Windflowers fade.

There’s another, somewhat different, remnant of the original set. One bulb somehow migrated under the neighboring Forsythia, and flourishes still. We root for it, and relish its stiff-necked survival.

Number of pix taken on various April 25ths: 511
Year of oldest photo: 2005

How I Rated the Date’s Photographs:

  • 1 Star: 3
  • 2 Stars: 68
  • 3 Stars: 368
  • 4 Stars: 62
  • 5 Stars: 10

Revision History:

Of Old Baseball Gloves and Sabermetrics

This post begins with a fifty-year-old memory. While I’m certain I’ve got things essentially right, I’m nearly as sure there’s some detail that’s wrong. That’s OK; the main point is the memory.

My first baseball glove had originally been my father’s. Since Dad was a kid in the 1930s, you can imagine what that was like: An uncomfortable pancake thing which didn’t appreciably improve my (negligible, to be sure) fielding prowess. Dad eventually bought me a better glove: A Ted Williams model, probably a late Wilson model before he became part of the Sears empire. Teddy Ballgame not being known as a particularly good fielder, the packaging talked mostly about his accomplishments with a bat. This is where I first encountered On Base Percentage, as the summary of his 1941 season mentioned his .553 OBP.

"What," I asked my father, "is this mystery statistic?" Dad actually had a response, which I don’t recall in detail but was certainly along the lines of "It’s what his batting average would be if you included his walks." In retrospect, that Dad knew what OBP meant is probably as delightful as the glove. Of course, I didn’t recognize that at the time.

Fact is, when I was twelve I didn’t know much about Williams. I knew he (had) played with Boston, and that Topps seemed to think he was the best ballplayer of his generation (evidence was awarding him the #1 card in 1957 & 1958, which certainly seemed like an endorsement). I discounted that endorsement as ignorant bias. Nowadays, like everyone else, I’m certain they likely had it right. The Splinter was Splendid.

But today’s essay’s about Sabermetrics, not about old ballplayers. I’ve been rereading Baseball Between the Numbers by the Baseball Prospectus staff, which was published a few years back. It’s set me to thinking about The March of On-Base Percentage (as Alan Schwarz titled a chapter in his book The Numbers Game), and about other things sabermetric.

I was slightly aware of Bill James some years before he became famous, I think because I devoured The Sporting News. When Bill’s Ballantine-published 1982 Baseball Abstract hit the newsstands, I immediately purchased and devoured that. I’ve have been collecting similar books ever since. My library now contains nearly everything James has published, all of the recognized Sabermetric classics, complete or nearly-complete runs of most James-influenced publications, and other books which resemble those. The quality’s quite variable, and there’s no book I fully agree with. But I’m definitely part of the sabermetric camp.

Anyway, the thing which strikes me about Baseball Between the Numbers is that it’s largely grown obsolete in just a half-decade. For almost 20 years, baseball management largely resisted serious statistical analysis. Management largely consisted of former players, and few were inclined to take outside analysis seriously. This was partly willful blindness–“He never played the game”–and partly statistical ignorance. But a generation later, baseball’s management’s (unexpectedly) become more businesslike, and a newer generation of baseball players–and coaches and field managers–includes a sprinkling of folks who grew up reading James, Pete Palmer, or authors influenced by James and Palmer. Some of those players have moved to front office jobs. And while fans still have blind spots, they’re generally more aware that many numbers are influenced by ballpark and batting order, and that there are legitimate reasons to debate baseball’s accepted wisdom.

The result is a new baseball culture. While people still argue about the value of statistical analysis vis-a-vis other forms of baseball knowledge, basically everyone agrees with the fundamental tenets which have driven sabermetric analysis and many managers, announcers, and fans are comfortable using some of the sabermetric toolkit. OPS and SLG are commonly understood. In the front office, it’s clear that many teams’ decisions are informed, if not driven, by Runs Created-like formulas and more realistic analyses of the context and consequences of their options. The result’s better baseball on the field, and better decision-making at all levels.

There’s no calling in life which isn’t influenced by fashion. Baseball’s new sabermetric fashion is, on the whole, a good thing, and benefits all of us who care about the game.

OK, back to Baseball Between the Numbers. Reading it has been a bit frustrating. Because I’ve followed these discussions for many years, much of what’s covered here seems pretty basic. The book has some good research, but on the whole I’m clearly not–and never was–the target audience.

There’s another thing, too. Things have moved beyond the issues discussed in this book. The cutting edge research nowadays is based on play-by-play, and even pitch-by-pitch, data. While the authors make some reference to play-by-play, on the whole the book’s based on summary statistics. So there’s a sense that they were summarizing the state of the art just as the research practice moved somewhere else. That was certainly worth doing, but clearly more valuable to a new reader than to someone who’s been following the discussion.


March 30th addition: BP’s recently published a two-volume "Best Of" book, drawn from their website; it’s heavily weighted toward recent work, so likely they’re in agreement about this. They’re also apparently working on a successor to Between the Numbers. I’m looking forward to it.

(I wrote this essay last July, filed it, and forgot it. Posting it now, with slight editing, because it seems worthwhile….)

Automation

The cover story on the latest edition of Macalester Today, Mac’s alumni magazine, features Jim Dunn and Sam Ernst, executive producers and writers of SyFy Channel’s Haven. They’d previously written for The Dead Zone, which led to their current gig. All in all this is your typical alumni magazine success story, of course, but it’s always nice to know someone made good.

It says here that “they first met as computer-assigned roommates at Macalester in 1984…”–well, that caught my eye. I’ve written elsewhere today about the summer of 1981, but that note didn’t mention my summer job. After our little excursion to Fayette and other Upper Michigan places, my sister dropped me off in Saint Paul, where I spent the summer assigning freshmen to rooms. Since those rooms were shared, I made some effort to match folks by interest. I was afforded some slight help by preference cards, on which they may or may not have indicated favorite books, faith, musical interests, hobbies, expected major, home town, and similar information. Not much to go on, but I was double-checked by the admissions office, who occasionally vetoed a pairing. A few roomies later sought me out to thank me; no one cursed me to my face. All in all it was a fun summer. I’ve always claimed this was my favorite job.

Three years later, I gather, I’d been replaced by a computer. Hmmm.

Now What?

“OK. Now what do we do?”

By far the most common question I’ve heard since September 30 is “What are you going to do?” I’ve routinely said “Don’t know, but I’ll figure something out.” I’ve several hobbies: I’m a decent photographer, I’m a bicyclist, I read several books a week. I’ve a national reputation as a baseball researcher. In earlier lives I’ve organized political campaigns, written software, officiated at bicycle races, and won a prize for a paper focused on transportation history. I’ve been a bicycle club president, I’ve helped run a computer bulletin board, I’ve been active on church committees, I’ve organized a national convention for a volunteer organization. And I haven’t even mentioned music. I really don’t think finding things to do will be an issue.

What’s less clear, right now, is what I will actually do. I’m planning to get serious about bicycling again, but I don’t expect or want that to take over my life. Photography will likely remain a hobby; it’s always been something I practice diligently for extended periods, then almost completely abandon. I’ll continue to attend baseball games; that’s a lifetime constant. I’ve contributed to The SABR Encyclopedia in the past, and plan to resume doing so. There’s work to do around the house, but neither Joan nor I expect that to be my main pastime. I also have a few long-standing commitments, here and there, that I aim to wrap up, but those are finite projects and none are a life’s work.

Beyond that, there are certainly options. I have baseball research projects I’d like to tackle. There’s some Great Lakes history I expect to research; perhaps there’s a book or two in that. Perhaps Proposal 1 will pass today; I’d certainly consider running for Con-Con Delegate. I might rekindle my railfan addiction, and perhaps build a model pike in the attic. There are places I’d like to (re)visit, books I’d like to read, people I’d like to meet. I probably can’t do all of these things, so I’ll need to make some decisions.

Anyway, I’m confident I’ll find useful things to fill my day. But I’m not hurrying to solve this puzzle.


Although they’re also eligible to retire, some of my colleagues are not sure how they’d fill their days without the pattern of a daily job. So they are staying on. This is good, as their experience will be valuable as new staff joins, and the new leadership reorganizes, state government. Note, though, that they read absence of routine into the "Now What?" question, and vote for structure. There’s another reading for the question. I see a multitude of opportunities.

about dabbler

So: Who’s this Joel guy?

Age 56: Portrait in Blue

I’m a baseball geek and a fairly serious amateur photographer. Once upon a time I was a very serious bicyclist, and I’ve been a Democratic Party staffer. I retired late in 2010, after working for the State of Michigan for over three decades.


A List of Things about Joel Dinda

  1. I watch lots of minor league baseball.
  2. I was born in 1949.
  3. I’m a graduate of Macalester College.
    • I graduated with the Class of 1982, but was originally a member of the 1971 graduating class. Life is complicated.
    • I majored in history under Ernie Sandeen, who passed away a few days before I completed classes.
    • My senior project at Mac was about transporting iron ore.
  4. I grew up in Kalamazoo. My brother and sister still live there.
  5. I now live in Mulliken. I share the town with about 600 souls.
  6. I share a small home with Joan and two kitties (Taffy and Oreo). We used to have two other cats, Butterscotch and Peppermint.
    • Joan named the candy kitties. Oreo was already named when she adopted us.
  7. I want to retire to Marquette, or Duluth. Joan doesn’t; claims they’re too cold. There’s a good chance we’ll end up in Saint Ignace.
  8. I retired on November 1, 2010, after 33 years as a Michigan civil servant.
  9. I watch Lakers. (No, not the basketball team: Boats.)
  10. I’m a Vietnam vet: Signal Corps communications center in Pleiku [SSDP]. Before that, I was stationed at Fort Baker (California), Fort Huachuca (Arizona), Fort Gordon (Georgia), and Fort Knox (Kentucky, of course, silly). This list is in reverse order, and it leaves off Fort Lewis and Fort Dix, both of which were transient stations.
  11. Bicycles:
    • I’m a life member of the League of American Bicyclists. (The plaque says League of American Wheelmen, which is the name I actually prefer. Water over the dam.)
    • I was president of the Kalamazoo Bicycle Club from 1975 to 1977, and was host of the National Convention of Bicyclists (Escape 78) after my presidential term ended.
    • I used to bicycle. I used to bicycle a lot. My best bike has travelled over 87,000 miles.
    • I’ve begun to bicycle again, but no longer consider myself serious.
  12. I belong to the Missabe Railroad Historical Society, and was once active in the NMRA–but I now try to control my railfan addiction.
  13. I (still) own two Radio Shack Model 100s. I was an active member of Compuserve’s M100SIG.
  14. Long ago, I helped sysop a couple Lansing bulletin boards.
  15. I sing. I used to be an excellent singer, but asthma’s messed up my voice.
  16. I’m a Democrat.
    • I worked on George McGovern’s campaign and I’m still proud of him.
    • Gene McCarthy, too.
  17. I’ll tell you more if I figure out what I want to say.
  18. Oh, yeah. I used to be a government bureaucrat. I made lists for a living.

A short note about plans

I’ve got plans, but not necessarily for this page.


You may or may not want to see what I’ve said about myself on Library Thing (recommended) or Flickr (not so much).


Author’s note: This page was my first webpage, and was initially composed on January 24, 1996. It’s been moved a few times, and updated occasionally, but it’s essentially the original page.