60 ezret ért a fekete macska 
Monthly Archive for December, 2008
You only have to do a very few things right in your life so long as you don’t do too many things wrong.
Warren Buffet
Picasso fan converts his car into work of art on wheels
Last updated at 20:04 21 junio 2007
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If Pablo Picasso had gone in for car design, the result would have been something like this.
Or so Andy Saunders says. The 44-year-old mechanic spent six months turning an aged Citroen 2CV into a cubist work of art inspired by Picasso’s Portrait of Dora Maar.
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Inspiration: Picasso’s Portrait of Dora Maar, with its misplaced features, gave Andy Saunders the idea for this cubist version of a Citroen 2CV
“I decided to blur the line between car design and art by using Picasso as inspiration-said Mr Saunders, from Poole, Dorset.
“I studied Picasso and noticed that he used mainly primary colours and I’ve stuck with that for the car.
“I named it Picasso’s Citroen and I think it is much better than the Citroen Picasso, which is a boring people carrier.
“I think I know which one Pablo would have preferred.”
Mr Saunders is to launch his creation publicly at this weekend’s Goodwood Festival of Speed.
He says it is legally roadworthy for daytime use only, meaning it does not need traditional headlights or indicators because signals can be made with the hands.
He added: “I made all the new parts and have distorted the whole car so the more you look at it the more peculiar it becomes.
“It hasn’t lost any of its speed – it can still reach 65mph. Eventually I hope to sell it and maybe it will be bought by the Tate Gallery or the Pompidou Centre in Paris.
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If Pablo Picasso had gone in for car design it might have looked something like this.
“It’s hard to put a value on it now, but as it’s a work of art I reckon it might sell for about a million pounds.
“However, if museums or art collectors won’t buy it, I think I might have to stick it in Auto Trader.”
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-463499/Picasso-fan-converts-car-work-art-wheels.html
… Elárulom, hogy a dánok, akik egy vb-t és egy olimpiát is kihagytak, most pedig a 11. helyen végeztek, az utolsó meccsük után hajnalig mulatoztak. Másnap megkérdeztem egy vezetőt, hogy van ez náluk, mire ő csak annyit mondott: a játékosoknak érezniük kell, akárhogy szerepelnek, ők a nemzet csapata, ezért senki nem temeti őket, amiért most nem jött ki a lépés. Az Dániában senkinek nem fordul meg a fejében, hogy a játékosok ne tettek volna meg mindent a nemzeti csapat sikeréért. Csak remélni tudom, hogy Magyarországon sem.
http://sportgeza.hu/kezilabda/2008/12/13/imrevilmos_interju/
Leddies end Dschentlmän! Wi a nau epprotsching Sankt Pölten!
http://oesterreich.orf.at/stories/328094/
OUTDOORS & ADVENTURE | LOS ANGELES
The call of the wild is a stone’s throw from the city grind in a historic canyon campground on the northern outskirts of L.A.
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No one seems to know exactly when Millard Campground was converted from a day-use-only picnic spot near a nice waterfall into L.A.’s most convenient place to snore in the woods. Or, for that matter, if and when it might be converted back.
But on any given Saturday, it’s clear that word has spread about this quick ‘n’ easy overnight retreat — the closest place to the city in Angeles National Forest to park, pitch a tent, put up a hammock, plunk a hot dog on a stick and pretend for a starry night or two that Los Angeles (a stone’s throw away) doesn’t exist.
“We used to come up here a lot when we were in high school,” says Richard Maldonado, a La Puente-based truck driver and one of about 30 overnighters, young and old, communing with nature on a recent weekend at Millard, a five-site trail camp tucked in a forested canyon above Altadena — and just two miles from the nearest Starbucks. “And now, for the first time, we’re bringing our kids. So it’s like a new phase begins.”
Maldonado’s friend Pablo adds, “But basically it’s the same deal as when we were teens.” He’s part of a group of childhood buddies, spouses, girlfriends, in-laws and toddlers enjoying their first-ever multi-generation camping expedition here. “It’s just somewhere that’s always felt much farther away than it actually is.”
Just over the hill from one of the most unchecked concrete jungles on Earth, Millard Canyon is its own basic but impressive vanishing act. Exit the 210 Freeway, shoot up Lake Avenue to the foot of the San Gabriel Mountains and, about a mile up the hill, the great urban haze morphs into the great outdoors in a single hairpin turn.
Wind down the road’s steep backside for another minute or so to a half-empty parking lot next to a creek bed and a canopy of oaks and alders scratched with initials and you’ve arrived at Millard Campground. Or almost. The trek to the actual campsites from the parking lot is about 100 yards along a fire road.
“Some people show up and actually complain about the ‘hike’ in,” says Lonnie Fehr, Millard’s on-site host, a soft-spoken, ball-capped, gray-ponytailed volunteer who’s been looking after the place for the last nine years.
“But we get all kinds here — everything from families and couples and college students coming to get away from it all to Boy Scout groups using this place as a trial run before heading up into the high country … to, y’know, the occasional homeless guy.”
A 14-day annual camping limit helps discourage foragers of cheap real estate from down the hill. So does the presence of the full-time host, presiding over a list of posted rules by the parking lot that reminds you you’re not exactly in Yosemite: no paintball guns or slingshots. No radios, guitars or drums after 10 p.m.
Drums?
“One night last year, some guys came with their drums and wouldn’t stop until I called the Sheriff’s Department,” Fehr says.
There have been no drumming issues since. When the Scouts show up, Fehr adds, the small campground can quickly transform into an unofficial jamboree site.
Most of the time, though, this place is as quiet as the empty woods surrounding it.
“But you just never know,” says Fehr, gazing off at a group of a dozen or so squealing kids on a scavenger hunt, clambering up a hill covered in crunchy oak leaves.
Today’s capacity crowd at Millard doesn’t include any Eagle Scouts or squatters but still represents a cross section of the Los Angeles area. Fifteen tents from all walks of life are squished into about an acre or two of camping space.
There’s the Maldonado entourage, the group of friends and family from L.A. and Riverside who are here to carry on their tradition. Twenty feet away is Derek Sieburth, a USC neurobiology assistant professor with his wife and kids (“We hike here all the time and decided to try spending the night”).
Over by the creek are Bill and Kris Hughes, a middle-aged couple from just down the road in Altadena with their chocolate lab and Chihuahua mix. Beside them is a coterie of timid engineering students from Caltech, hunched over a propane stove, who are here on a dormitory executive committee retreat.
There’s Bill Gomez, a regular at Millard who once spent an entire summer “living off the land” in Angeles National Forest. Sometimes he brings his friends and their kids here to show them what they’ve been missing. Other times he bikes up straight from his office job downtown.
“I just hop on the Gold Line train to Pasadena and then pedal the rest of the way,” he says. “Less than an hour, dude, and I’m out of the city, sitting by a creek under the trees roasting Cornish hens over an open fire.”
As dusk settles in Millard, a last-minute exodus of day users, most of them returning from an easy, half-mile scramble up to 60-foot Millard Falls, beelines out of the parking lot before the road gates lock shut at 8 p.m. (and stay that way until dawn). Anyone still inside at that point is spending the night with the Cornish hen crowd.
At least for the foreseeable future. Last fall, the issue of converting Millard Campground back to a day-use-only picnic area was raised among Angeles National Forest personnel.
“About 95% of the people at Millard are day users and only a very small population is there for camping,” says Howard Okamoto, recreation officer for the Los Angeles River Ranger District. “So when the campsite is occupied, that prevents a lot of people from using that site as a picnic area. We looked at … converting it back to a strictly day-use area in the future, and then put that out in a report for public input.”
The few locals who responded were against it, says Okamoto, so the issue was dropped for the time being. “My prediction is that Millard Campground is going to stay a campground for at least the next five years,” he says.
It’s well past 8. The gates are locked. Tonight’s encampment at Millard — a convivial bunch of s’more-eating, cocoa-sipping, ghost-story-spinning escapists — would probably miss this place. An owl hoots. Crickets chirp. Wood smoke wafts through a moonlit canyon. A creek burbles where a pair of deer will show up for a drink first thing in the morning. And a mile down the road, just a hairpin turn away, L.A. hasn’t the foggiest clue.
Rane is a freelance writer.
