<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 19 Nov 2009 13:34:27 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>the professional amateur</title><description>an experiment in alternative lifestyles</description><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/</link><managingEditor>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-6989445980245449663</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Jun 2009 14:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-15T04:36:05.215+13:00</atom:updated><title>Slick</title><atom:summary type='text'>Slick

Slick *owns* this casino.

It belongs to him.

He knows everyone passing through the Eden Lounge, points each out, and throws them his chin as they cross the floor.

He jumps up from his table, one foot snaps out, and kick-turns spinning himself full circle. In time with the beat. Immediately darting across the dance floor, down the steps, and out the bar with a Manhattan rush-hour shuffle</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2009/06/slick.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RtvLL43poKA/Sv57NVpL8bI/AAAAAAAAAC0/ogFMHXnaxqY/s72-c/dsc_0098.bc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-5288818325562659582</guid><pubDate>Tue, 31 Mar 2009 06:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-04-04T23:10:45.749+13:00</atom:updated><title>On Vacation</title><atom:summary type='text'> Growing up, there were two places we'd go for vacation every year. Either a week at my Aunt and Uncle's beach house in Cape May, or a long weekend in Room #10 at the Kismet Motel, run by my grand-aunt in Wildwood, New Jersey. 3rd street, in the middle of nowhere. Or 6th and Surf, just blocks from the Boardwalk. ... Wildwood had the rides going for it. The Spooky Shack and Gold Rush were my </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2009/03/on-vacation.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-6496428308029821346</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 2009 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-13T02:59:22.358+13:00</atom:updated><title>2009</title><atom:summary type='text'>Touched down in Auckland just before sunrise. Did the luggage-customs-shuttle shuffle, worked around some office access issues due to the holiday, exchanged gear, and tinkered with batteries and a broken windshield wiper to get the car going again. Caught up with Greg and he helped me hack auto bits in the sun. Ducked inside (sunburnt after just two hours) and helped him hack Python bits on his </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2009/01/midnight-in-san-francisco.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-7698586642432535491</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Aug 2008 07:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-25T21:23:46.316+12:00</atom:updated><title>Everything In Its Right Place</title><atom:summary type='text'>It started with Just. ... As a sophomore in high school, I had spent the entire previous year listening to nothing but Pink Floyd. That's not actually as bad as it sounds, there's twenty-odd albums to count if you include the solo ones. There was always one more left to discover. I had found something I enjoyed and ... enjoyed the hell out of it. By the time that video hit though, I was ready for</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2008/08/everything-in-its-right-place.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-3544139785645093964</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Aug 2008 08:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-19T12:49:50.955+12:00</atom:updated><title>Prowl</title><atom:summary type='text'>I had it all worked out. He was sitting at the table, but wouldn't see me as I slipped out the front door. I called out the cat's name as an excuse. He would think the sound of the door opening just was me letting it in. The lights in my room were turned out, like I was already asleep. I'm never disturbed. By the time I came back they'd have all done the same. The timing would be perfect. No one </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2008/08/prowel.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-6971173912201964111</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Apr 2008 07:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-30T17:07:30.674+12:00</atom:updated><title>Lynx3 Motion Detection</title><atom:summary type='text'></atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2008/04/lynx3-motion-detection.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-2926398894940284111</guid><pubDate>Wed, 05 Mar 2008 22:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-19T08:39:32.097+12:00</atom:updated><title>Eulogy for Pop-pop</title><atom:summary type='text'>Pop-pop was my hero.I say "Pop-pop" because that's the only name I've ever known him by. But I call him my hero, because of all the people I've met in all my life, the one more than any other, whom I can point to and say, "Wow. I would love to be just like him someday." - that's Pop-pop.People who knew him would see him and say, "Gus, how do you do it? You're into your nineties, but you've got </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2008/03/pop-pops-eulogy.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-8972901553558730785</guid><pubDate>Sun, 05 Aug 2007 10:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-30T17:41:43.603+12:00</atom:updated><title>Backstage at Korn</title><atom:summary type='text'></atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/08/backstage-at-korn.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-2646421737972965525</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 May 2007 07:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-13T14:53:43.664+12:00</atom:updated><title>Life at the End of the Pier</title><atom:summary type='text'>The married couple makes it to the gate before me.Damn.He steps in front to swipe the gate, opening it for his wife. He looks up to see me, and I notice the same kind of calculation pass behind his eyes as clerks get when I buy beer with my groceries. "Do I card him or let him go? "Do I hold the gate or make him swipe himself in?"Its a fair question. Its well after dark and there's an issue of </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/05/life-at-end-of-pier.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-141364323933499589</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Apr 2007 05:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-30T17:45:40.280+12:00</atom:updated><title>Hallensteins Virtual Dressing Room</title><atom:summary type='text'>Full Documentary:Award Submission:</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/04/hallensteins-virtual-dressing-room.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-956638587797306333</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Feb 2007 10:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-24T11:42:59.611+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>The Poor Knights</title><atom:summary type='text'>I spent this past Valentine's Day with another man's fiance.The arrangements were made well in advance. A boat was chartered just for the occasion, taking us and a handful of others on a cruise to a group of islands just off the northern coastline called the Poor Knights. Everyone who wasn't already coupled up was soon paired off. A handlful even grouped into threes or more - mostly the beginners</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/02/poor-knights.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-5370935177040379040</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Feb 2007 01:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-12T11:47:49.758+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Go the Funtop</title><atom:summary type='text'>1.3L Mazda 121440 km to Napier150 kg of Marine Engine (crated in pieces)Mountain BikeHelmet3 Person Tent4 Computers24 Port Router17" Touchscreen MonitorStereo Speakers with SubwooferComplete Summer WardrobeWetsuit3 Pairs of ShoesNo Puppies Where Harmed</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/02/go-funtop.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-6183715558030863891</guid><pubDate>Thu, 18 Jan 2007 22:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-12T13:06:46.838+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Backstage at the Big Day Out</title><atom:summary type='text'>Take all the flights, home and abroad, laid end to end and I must surely have circled the globe half a dozen times, but never once been bumped up to first class. I'm told the secret is to dress up for the occasion. Its the ones who look as though it would be in the airline's best interest to treat with such preference who are granted the priviledge. I show up expecting to fly coach. Better to </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/02/backstage-at-big-day-out.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116765122451678591</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 2007 11:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-02T00:36:01.033+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Web</category><title>Yachtsman captures birth of an island</title><atom:summary type='text'>More incredible photos on his blog here</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2007/01/yachtsman-captures-birth-of-island.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116694193375327908</guid><pubDate>Sun, 24 Dec 2006 06:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-24T19:32:13.763+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>From your friendly parking officer</title><atom:summary type='text'>Another busy morning, dash into the hostel to grab fresh clothes and a quick shower before the morning's first appointment. If I'm early there's parking on the street. There's always change in the ashtray. Run in run out, deadline printed across the receipt on the dash.   Coming back out, something on the windshield. Gotta be a flyer, to big for a ticket. Plenty of time left, right? Thought I was</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/12/from-your-friendly-parking-officer.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116654182340391774</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Dec 2006 15:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-20T04:26:05.086+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>So how's the boat doing?</title><atom:summary type='text'>Don't Ask.</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/12/so-hows-boat-doing.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116369096204074240</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Nov 2006 11:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-02T12:09:19.431+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Zen and the Art of Boat Maintenance</title><atom:summary type='text'>After graduating college, I set off on a cross-country road trip with my girlfriend at the time. It was my second trip across the United States by car and came at a time when life was presenting a lot of big questions....One point which stands out is the book I was reading throughout, Robert M. Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A book focused deeply on the philosophical meaning </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/11/zen-and-art-of-boat-maintenance.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116306977795687585</guid><pubDate>Thu, 09 Nov 2006 10:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-10T03:10:16.720+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Web</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>The Cowardly Lion Bows Out</title><atom:summary type='text'>This past [northern] summer for the first time in years I made it back to First Friday, a monthly event in Philadelphia's Olde City where the art galleries stay open long past normal closing time, inviting the after-work crowd to view the latest exhibitions well into the night.My favourite to visit - as much for content as the circumstance under which I was introduced - is the Clay Studio. </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/11/cowardly-lion-bows-out.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116304919052267537</guid><pubDate>Thu, 09 Nov 2006 05:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-10T11:36:22.390+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Trick or Treat</title><atom:summary type='text'>For Halloween this year I tried being a Captain, something like my sister's beloved Pirate of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow. I turned out more like the Skipper - the tubby "three-hour-tour" guy with the affinity for Blue Shirts from Gilligan's Island.   ...   Chris had flown out from Australia to visit some friends in Tauranga and the timing worked well for him to crew the passage. We had come </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/11/trick-or-treat.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116162918103070646</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Oct 2006 17:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-14T00:12:36.000+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Long Night's Day</title><atom:summary type='text'>Its starting to get light outside.  I've been working for the last eighteen hours, and that's not counting the two days prior. I have to smile to myself as I get up. So much for the “Labour Day” weekend. Still I can't really complain, I enjoy my job. The hours are long and frequently creep into the weekends, but they're rarely rushed or stressful - if you don't count the occasional burst before a</atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/10/long-nights-day.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36431747.post-116151765607201262</guid><pubDate>Sun, 22 Oct 2006 11:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-10-23T04:02:32.860+13:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blog</category><title>Graduation Powerball</title><atom:summary type='text'>One of my sisters is a senior this year in high school.  If I had to give her some brotherly advice, it would sound like this:  First off, its your senior year. Live like it, because it only comes once and despite the cliche you really will look back at it as one of the best times of your life. So have fun.  But besides that, in between the good times do a little planning. Pretend what it would </atom:summary><link>http://www.theprofessionalamateur.com/2006/10/graduation-powerball.html</link><author>steve@theProfessionalAmateur.com (the professional amateur)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>