Bright Spot

As you know if you've read this for awhile, I moderate and/or own (there is a distinction which is not my own) several Yahoo groups. Most are knitting-related.

There are a LOT of knitting patterns out there. Some are free, in the public domain. Most are not. They are instead copyrighted works, the product of some creator's hard work and often, at least part of what puts food on their table. As you might expect, there are a lot of people who work to subvert that, sharing patterns illegally, even going so far as to sell reproductions of work still under copyright law on sites like eBay, which is just too large an organization to catch them all.

Sometimes, I understand people's frustration. There are patterns by designers whose names are legendary that simply are not currently available in print. Strenuous efforts to get them re-released, or the copyright re-assigned for publication are often fruitless. Buying originals is often far too expensive for the average knitter...no one is more average than I! But there is no pattern out there so marvelous that breaking the law to obtain it is okay.

As you also might expect, as someone who earns a living under copyright law, I'm pretty stringent about protecting the rights of others. I am not a lawyer, but I'm also not an idiot, whatever you may have heard. I've read the copyright law and it's mostly common sense. If you didn't create it, it's not yours to sell or otherwise disseminate. Pretty simple, one would think. But at least three or four times a year, mostly on one particular list, I have to rein in someone from feeling they are above the law. Oh, I know they don't think of it that way, but it's what it boils down to.

The most recent was someone wanting help with translating a stitch legend. She chose to try to do it by posting a photo of the legend on the list. That's reproducing a copyrighted work, and I didn't permit the photo to go through. Another list member got on her high-horse, stating that was not a copyright violation, because you cannot copyright an idea or process. True. But this isn't an idea or process, it's a portion of a printed pattern. She countered that she was a designer (I've never seen anything by her) and that she had studied copyright law for a year. Feeling a bit snippy - I know you're astonished - I reminded her that that that didn't make a copyright lawyer of her, and that as long as I was moderating the list, I would err on the side of caution and designers. I added that the conversation was over, and to her credit, she stopped. Most of them don't!

Now, I have to say this gets old. But today, someone who is extremely well-known in the area of lace design in the U.S. wrote to me. She is one of several prominent designers on this list. Since I haven't asked her permission, I won't use her name, but this is what she wrote:

"Hi Diana, Thank you for taking care of the laceknitters list so well.
Just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate it. Cheers! "

To quote Ruth Gordon when she won the Academy Award, "I can't tell you how encouraging a thing like this is." It reminds me again of something I try to practice, and sometimes fail...if you have a pleasant thought or compliment you're thinking about someone, voice it! You never know when that small word of encouragement will be the best thing that happens to them all day.

It sure made mine!

Everybody Into the Pool!

Last Tuesday, a nice lady and her also nice mother stopped into the studio unexpectedly. They had a hand-tinted photo that they wanted to have restored, wondering if we did that kind of work. Kinda. It's my favorite thing to do here, because as much as I like working on the DH's photos, this is something that's just my skill, you know? It's true; I don't play well with others.

The piece is badly faded, bowed, and damaged. You can see here the big pieces that are flecked away, but there are tons of smaller areas that are gone too. The whole was mounted in a frame that has convex glass, and you can see the unusual shape. For those of you that have never been, it's obviously the Washington Monument, and the Tidal Basin in Washington, D.C. I believe the trees are full of cherry blossoms. While they're hard to view here (the original is about 20" wide) there are men and women in clothing that looks to be circa WWI to me. High hats, frock coats, full beards...but it's only a guess. One of my hobby-horses - date your pictures for future generations!





Now here is what a few hours of my time has wrought...a little more time, I confess, than I charged her for, but I know you'll be stunned to hear I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Lest you think I did all the coloring, much of it came back using the techniques I know. I added a hint of pink to the trees, and touched up the sky a smidge. The original color that showed where the frame had protected it was actually a very deep, almost robin's egg color, and I didn't want to go that far. It would look too fakey here, even though I have seen the sky that color in D.C. Now off to the lab for printing, and we'll cut it down to fit the owners frame.Ironically, as I was finishing this up we got a mail piece for some company in our town that was advertising their retouching prowess to my DH. Somehow I think he's happy with the person he already has.

Greed

As some of you know, the origins of this blog lie in my inability to suffer fools gladly. Unfortunately, there are just so dang many of 'em out there, and way more than my share (pretty sure) find their ways into my life and business. Today we had a prime example.

Every year, we do pictures for several local dance studios. For two of them we do the traditional posed costume pictures, and for them and a third, we do action pictures. We take them during dress rehearsal and sell them to slavering parents who circle our sales table as if they were Great Whites and the photos were delicious chum. We refer to this as the "feeding frenzy," and cupcake, lemme tell you, it can get ugly.

Dance parents can be some of the most seriously entitled people (And what does your Goddess say about that, boys and girls? Right...no one is entitled but me. And today, the DH. It's his birthday.) that you'd never want to meet. Let's face it. By definition, most of these people have fairly substantial money. They pay for the classes, and judging by the remodeling one local studio owner just did to her home, they pay handsomely. And she earns it, don't get me wrong! They pay for costumes, where one silly, but cute, little hat can cost $25. Just the hat! Add shoes, tights, unitards and usually several iterations for different classes. Then there's competitions, extra lessons...let's just say that the pictures they purchase from us are just a small drop in the bucket.

Which is why, to my mind - a relatively good mind, all things considered and don't ask what things, it's none of your business - it's ridiculous for a few of them to behave as they do over these action pictures. Let me fill you in on how these work. Our photographers shoot the actual dances, aiming to get a few pictures of each child in each costume. Sometimes this is difficult. In very large classes, not everyone gets to the front. Often a picture where one child is centered will have a couple other dimpled darlings on either side.

After our first time selling, about ten years ago, we had to set up rules. Since these are one-of pictures, we tell the parent that they may only purchase a picture if their child is centered and in focus. If you cannot tell which child is the focus of the picture, we will tell you, and our ruling is final. This prevents greedy parents buying pictures because their child's elbow is in it....and oh! How I wish I were kidding! I have had parents call me from the field, wanting me to chew out my employees for not letting them have a photo. Guess what folks? Won't happen. I back my people 100%.

So last night, our most senior employee and an assistant were selling photos for one dance studio, while the DH was shooting at a reception for the local high school baseball team that just won state champions. Our employee warned us this morning that he had a grandmother who threw "a hizzy" (his words) because he wouldn't let her take a picture. Why? Because said picture was of the dance studio owner doing a major leap across the stage, with a group of children seated on hay bales behind her. This woman's child happened to be seated in the crowd on the bale! So of COURSE the picture was about her, not the featured dancer, right? Wrong. As it was, the woman went away with fifteen photos, for which she paid the amount we set for the 13 to 20 photos range. Now understand, these photos are also available for purchase online. Since they aren't mass-printed like the ones we sell on location, they do cost more, but she can get that shot if she really wants to.

Cut to today. Same woman, as we later find out, calls. We have action shots from last year. Usually excess are destroyed after six months, but through an oversight, these weren't yet. Our employee mentioned to several parents that they were still here if they didn't get to see them last year, hoping for some extra sales. When this lady calls, she tells us that since she bought in the up to 20 price range, she wants to come in to look at last year's work and get the additional pictures to "make up to twenty." She further tells the DH that the employee told her she could do this, and she is on her way in.

What? I think not. This guy has worked for us for 8 years, he knows that we don't combine deals across years or different jobs. For example, you cannot buy pictures from football and expect to combine them with baseball and get a price break. Never been done. So we call him up and ask what he ACTUALLY said. Nothing of the kind, of course. He told her he was just an employee and couldn't make deals. All he did was write on her envelope the number of pictures she bought, the amount, and his initials. No promise of anything else. Nor did he agree that we owe her more pictures so that she gets to the upper end of that 13-20 range. And he informs us this is the person who had the fit last night. Greeeeeeeaaaaaaaaat.

Woman arrives, and DH goes out to wait on her. He clarifies to her the policy on whose picture is whose, and the pricing structure. He tells her, very politely, that she got what she paid for, and if she wants additional photos, she'll have pay for them too. She maintains an even voice tone, but she is ticked and letting him know. According to her, the honor of our company is on the line. Our employee promised and wrote his initials to prove it. Of course, no promise is written on there at all. She would not have driven an hour and a half (later she admits she drove 20 minutes out of her way) and from another state without his word having been given. The DH points out after looking through her envelope that she even managed to snag another child's photo without being spotted, but doesn't take it from her, probably because he values his fingers. Remember the chum analogy.

As I walk down the hall from the office to the kitchette, she's holding forth about how she has a management position in DC (oh, there's an endorsement) and she knows a company should treat a person better, because "you don't know who they are." She also tells the DH that he is not living up to HIS expectations! Really? And you know what they are how, exactly?

I come back up the hall, and interject that she's right. We don't know who she is, but we do know our employee, we know he knows our policies and she doesn't, so out of the two, we know who probably misunderstood. She wants to know if I think she's making this up. I reply again that I feel she misunderstood, but that I know she was not promised what she thinks she was. She tells me she would not have driven all this way without being told that, and I informed her in polite terms that that was kinda the definition of "misunderstood." With what I felt was admirable restraint, I omitted the "DUH" I felt the situation called for. I'm sure you're proud.

Then she capped it with a threat to badmouth our company on all the social networking sites and the internet. I reminded her that libel laws were alive and well. She has absolutely nothing promising her anything, and while I also refrained from saying it to her, her greed-induced misunderstanding is not our fault.

The most fun part of it all was after she and her companion left. I turned to the DH and opined that she spent more in gas to come here than she would have saved getting the five extra pictures she mistakenly felt she was owed.

Now I can say it. "DUH!!!!"

"And Flights of Angels...

...sing thee to thy rest." We said our goodbyes to Witt today in a lovely, tasteful service in his beautiful family church in Georgetown, in the District of Columbia.

This is the first time we've seen Gary since Witt's passing, and the hug was that much harder and longer because of it. He's doing well, at least externally. He'd asked us to print a picture of Witt and put a signature mat around it to have at the reception, so we got there early so he might have a chance to see it before time for the service. This was something he really wanted for himself, and I'm so glad we had one handy for him.

A lot of things were very meaningful to me. Psalm 121 was read aloud by all of us, and it contains a favorite verse of mine, "I lift mine eyes unto the hills..." I used to never be sure which I needed more in my life, the beach, or mountains. I decided awhile ago that the beach is for relaxing, and the mountains for living. So this verse was poignant, especially since it was at the cabin in the hills that he loved to visit that Witt moved on from us.

What moved me most...and judging by sniffles I heard, others too!...was when Witt's doctor of more than 20 years stood to pay tribute to him. Dr. Kane knew Witt very well, and his words had weight because of it. He said the first thing one grew to know about Witt, once you got past the externals, was that he didn't suffer fools gladly. This drew grins; we all knew that. It was something that initially attracted Witt and I to one another, when I used that phrase about myself - I know you're surprised - in an early email exchange. When he found someone rude, or foolish, or ridiculous in a non-pleasing way (he loved the kind of ridiculousness that was pure fun), one eyebrow would go up, his face would grow even longer, and he'd produce a gimlet stare that quickly reduced any idiots to gibbering. I loved it. Wish I could pull it off.

Dr. Kane spoke of Witt's presence - not just his size which was 6'7" if you never met him, but the sheer volume of his personality. You could not only not miss Witt, you could never ignore him. You wouldn't want to. He was a magnet, and we mere iron filings.

Then Dr. Kane brought me to tears. He made the point that over the years, Witt knew what was important to him, and guarded it fiercely and loyally. Family and friends. Knitting. Peace. He winnowed away the non-essentials to live his life as fully as he could, in the way he wished, every day. And Dr. Kane reminded us that this meant if Witt gave his time and caring to you, that he valued you, and your friendship; that you mattered very much. Thinking of all the times we spent together, even just sitting over a cup of coffee or visiting his and Gary's apartment and talking for hours, I realized more than ever how honored by his friendship we've been. And I grieve that little bit more.

One worry laid well to rest - Gary was treated with the utmost respect as Witt's partner and chief mourner. One never knows how some clergy view gays, but the rector was kind and deferential toward Gary and the rest of Witt's family.

It gives you an idea of the esteem in which Witt was held that a daytime service, midweek, in the crowded District, was so well-attended that it took about an hour for everyone to pass through the three person receiving line. And that was even when a few of us didn't take up the space because we'd spoken to everyone in the family earlier. Over and over I saw laughter mixing with tears as people shared, often with strangers, how they knew Witt and the profound effect he had had on them.

We were one of the last to leave, speaking again to his mom, sister, and Gary. We had closed our studio until four, giving us plenty of time to get home. We were quiet driving back, both pensive. The DH mentioned an errand he need to run on the way, and we decided to stop for lunch. As we ate an appetizer, I remarked that I felt like we were playing hooky, now that the service was over, and I liked the feeling. I suggested that we do it more often; take a day where we had no appointments, leave SuzyG the receptionist in charge, and just take off. Do a mental health day.

After the man who really knew how to live, we've decided to call them Witt Days. We'll use them to look for both peace and fun, recover our wits, such as they are, and go on.

A Touch

Most of you don’t know me, of course, but I’m a pretty pragmatic person. But something that defies my logic happened today which I think you might appreciate.

A few months ago, my loyal followers know, we were taking pictures at a farm that has many peacocks. We came back with a bouquet of tail feathers the owner gave me. I gave a small one to Witt and Gary for Mattie, their cat, to play with.

We’ve been shooting this week at a dance studio which we do annually...it’s a full week commitment to costumes, tap and ballet shoes, and adorableness. This morning was the end, with the Tiny Tots, and we were packing up our cars to take things back to our photo studio. It's exhausting, and it was hot out, not to mention lunch time, so we packed as quickly as we could.

Now, I had been the only person in my car this morning, and it had been locked at the studio. But when I came out, there was a small peacock feather on the passenger seat. It was not there when I drove in. I have no peacock feathers at the house. We hadn’t taken any of the feathers to the dance studio, nor were there any on any of the 30+ types of costume we shot. There is no logical explanation I can see, and I've never experienced anything like this before.

I spoke with Gary for quite awhile this afternoon; the first time we've really had to just talk, not discuss details of the service being held for Witt on Thursday. When I told Gary about the feather, he didn't seem surprised at all. Then he told me he came back from a walk today to find a tiny three-leaf clover laying on the center of his keyboard, waiting for him. We both feel Witt was saying hello, and being Witt, found a clever and meaningful way to do it for each of us.

I've been asked to read some passages of scripture at Witt's memorial service. Please offer a prayer that I may keep it together, giving him the honor he deserves, and providing comfort for us all.

In Sorrow

Almost exactly two years ago, I saw a post on my EZasPi list saying that the poster lived in a town just a little south of my home. I said hello, mentioned that we were local to one another, and that, dear Blogees, was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

His name was Witt, and he and his partner Gary had recently moved from the DC area. As we began exchanging emails, I found him to live up to his name - very witty, funny and playful. We were about the same age, and had a lot in common. I'm not a woman who makes friends easily, by my definition of friend. I have a lots of friendly acquaintances, sure. But for me, friendship is an intensely loyal and deep commitment. Sometimes, as in the case of my best bud in high school, someone I've known quite awhile breaks through in a moment of closeness, and stays there always. And sometimes, as with Witt and Gary, I never get a chance to throw up any of my habitual reserve, and they were in my heart right away.

A couple weeks after meeting online, the "Boyz" as they and we called them, showed up unexpectedly at our studio. We talked for hours. From then on, we would get together about twice a month, either for a movie or a bite to eat, coffee or just a chat at their apartment. Usually we'd pair off...Witt and I talking books and fiber arts, Gary and the DH whatever caught their fancy. We had that lucky friendship where everyone in both couples likes everyone else.

A year and a half ago, Witt and Gary honored me by asking me to officiate at their commitment ceremony. It was a lovely affair, just a dozen people at a favorite local restaurant/lounge. The DH did the photos, and they were beautiful too. The two of them completed one another in the ways I love to see in the happiest of couples, the way I'm lucky enough to have with my DH.

All the time I've known him, Witt's health has been compromised by HIV, and over that time, I've seen his energy levels go down. Anything we did together needed to be earlier in the day, because later he was too worn. A fever could spike out of nowhere. Meds needed adjusting. But I never saw or talked to him that his outlook wasn't positive and generous, that he wasn't full of laughter and love.

That light went out today in this world, and it's burning ever so brightly in another. Gary called this morning as we were on our way to work, and told me Witt passed on in his sleep. They were staying in a friend's cabin high up on a mountain side, as they did whenever they wanted to get away. They'd planned to go up today, but Witt pressed to leave yesterday, and that's where he left us. I can't help wondering if he had an inkling, or if he just wanted to be somewhere peaceful. He gave me a lot of yarn a few weeks ago, and that had me wondering if he wasn't feeling something then, too. The shock of hearing that he was gone so abruptly was beyond words. Witt was larger than life in so many ways, and the hole he's left behind, well...it will never fill.

People sometimes say of a loss that they know how you feel. I can't imagine how Gary feels. I can all too easily imagine how I'd feel if I lost my husband, and the horror is more than I can bear. All I can do is try to be sure we're there for Gary, and help him take the one step at a time the way that he told me he was doing this morning.

You know that mascara that forms tubes on your lashes, won't flake or run, but washes off with plenty of warm water? Guess what tears are made of? Witt would have appreciated the knowledge. It really sucks that I can't call and tell him.

Health Care

We're at a crossroads in this country, sez I, and I'm sincerely hoping we take the right path. Specifically I'm hoping we take it in the area of health care, by passing the President's plan to cover everyone in America. Personally, I'd like to see the sort of universal health care that the UK and Canada enjoy, but I can live with the Obama administration's plan.

"Live with" being the important term. I can give you the big picture, maybe better than some folks because I lived in England for six years. Yes, sometimes you have to wait a bit to be seen for non-critical items. Like you don't have to do that here now? In spite of what a Big Bucks gentleman's commercials would have you believe, I don't know a single Brit or Canuck who wants what we have, and I know several.

I could also point out to you that we already have universal health care, and I lived under that too, when I was an Air Force wife. Yes, I couldn't always count on seeing the same doctor. But I got great care, and I didn't pay a cent. We made less than we would have on the economy as a trade off, but only having to pay for my meals when I had my two C-sections? So worth it.

So please understand, I do have a fair idea of what I speak. For that matter, I usually do or I don't open my mouth. :-) But today I'm going to ask you to support this health care plan for all our sakes, and specifically, share why I need you to do so.

As you know, the DH and I are self-employed. Yes, we struggle some in this economy. But we struggle far more than we should to provide health insurance for ourselves. In 2001, when we had to purchase said insurance, we found it excruciatingly difficult. We finally got Mega Life and Health through the National Association for the Self-Employed. Would seem to be an excellent thing, yes? A group plan for those of us whom we're always told are the backbone of America. Maybe we are, but I think we're losing spinal fluid at an alarming rate. In the 8 years we've had the policy, our premium has more than doubled. We had to raise our deductible to $7,500 EACH just to keep it as "only" doubled...and needless to say, we don't have anything like that if we were seriously ill. To be fair, during that time I was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes, but I'm very compliant and on the most minimal and generic medication there is.

And this policy covers almost nothing. One doctor visit a quarter is covered - with a co-pay; do you know any doctor that sees you for anything substantial then doesn't want to see you back in a week or two? I have to pay that out-of-pocket. I did physical therapy to avoid having to undergo anesthesia and a manipulation to unfreeze my shoulder, thereby saving them money, right? Sure did, because they refused to pay for the PT unless it was after surgery. All that, out of pocket. The prescription plan has a deductible, a co-pay, AND a cap of $1,000. With what the drug companies make in America, that gets eaten up FAST. I actually get my generic diabetes med cheaper at WalMart than I do in the plan I PAY FOR!

So we're now trying to get policy through Blue Cross Blue Shield. A very reputable company, which we now know Mega is not...they are dissed by everyone who is stuck with them. We went to an insurance broker, told him everything about us, and he got a quote for us. The underwriters quoted us at Tier 4. Middle-of-the-road, 1 being best, 7 being you're next to terminal. Based on the deductible we could live with, we'd be paying a little more monthly, but it would be real coverage, and we were delighted. We went in and did the official paperwork, hoping to have it in place by the beginning of the month.

A few days later, our agent called. They came back with us on Tier 7! Nothing changed, no new conditions, and he was as shocked as we were. I flat told him, absolving him, of course, that I felt this was fraudulent, a classic bait-and-switch. We asked what we could do to appeal. He didn't know, having never had this happen to him! We asked our physician to write a letter for us, and bless him, he did, stating that through my own efforts my blood sugar is well within normal, and I could probably even go off the med for it. He added that there was no reason I shouldn't be at a lower tier. The agent faxed that to his contact, and they came back at Tier 6. However, he also had us write a letter directly to BCBS Underwriting, giving us word for word what it should say, also including the doctor's letter. We've not heard back anything from that, and it's been about two weeks. Prayers are welcome.

A doctor recently told me that we were playing Russian Roulette, having the insurance (so-called) that we do, and he's absolutely correct. And folks, that shouldn't be. We work hard. We don't make much, and we're paying on health insurance about half what our house payment is. In this country, where we have so much, people working their butts off shouldn't have to be afraid of losing everything just because the insurance industry is greedy.

Do you know the majority of bankruptcies are due to health care costs? Trust me. I am afraid. One of us gets seriously ill, and we have to chose between treatment and losing everything. And we are very much not alone. So please, for the sake of all of us, let's get real coverage for all Americans.

I'd sure sleep better.