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The new Extreme SDHC card from SanDisk comes in 4/8/16/32GB capacities and boasts speeds of up to 30MB/s, which SanDisk claims as the world's fastest.
These cards are designed for HD video and are marketed with the new MacBook Pros in mind, since Apple's new laptops finally (finally!) have SD card slots. 30MB/s is easily fast enough to comfortably boot an OS from the card slot, which we already know is possible. Plus, with all the new DSLRs capable of taking HD video, more space and faster speeds might be of considerable use to photographers and videographers. The cards will be available this August for an undisclosed price. Press release follows. [SanDisk]
30MB/s Read & Write Speeds and 32GB Storage Capacity Help
Photography and Video Enthusiasts Do More With Their DSLRs
32GB CardPMA, Sydney, June 25, 2009 – SanDisk Corporation (NASDAQ:SNDK), the global leader in flash memory cards, today introduced the fastest 32-gigabyte (GB)1 SDHC™ card on the market. The 32GB SanDisk Extreme® SDHC™ card at up to 30 megabytes per second (MB/s)2 read and write speeds combines industry-leading performance with massive storage capacity, helping digital photography enthusiasts utilize the advanced features of today's DSLR cameras.
"The market for entry to mid-level DSLR cameras is growing, and SDHC is becoming the de-facto card format for these devices," said Susan Park, director, retail product marketing, SanDisk. "Our card's 32GB of storage and up to 30MB/s read & write speeds enable DSLR users to shoot without worrying about storage or speed limitations. SanDisk Extreme SDHC cards provide consumers with a more enjoyable user experience, letting them focus on what is really important – the images that they are capturing."
Lightning-Fast Write Speed Captures Images Quickly
A memory card's write speed plays a crucial role in the overall system of the camera when taking pictures in rapid succession. If a card cannot process data quickly enough then the burst mode shooting may pause unexpectedly as the card catches up to the camera. Burst mode bottlenecks can lead to missing "the" shot, especially at sporting or other fast-motion events. The SanDisk Extreme SDHC card offers maximum data-transfer rates, giving consumers a memory card fast enough to unlock the full capabilities of their DSLRs.
The 32GB SanDisk Extreme SDHC card adheres to the SD Association's new Class 10 specification, which exceeds requirement for today's high definition (AVCHD) video recording. The card offers a sustained write speed fast enough to ensure high-definition video recording and capacity capable of storing 160 minutes of full HD 1920x1080 pixels at 24Mb/s data transfer rate.
Big Files Require Big Storage
Recently-released DSLR camera models like the Nikon D90 and D5000 offer consumers the ability to record HD videos, producing large files that can fill lesser-capacity cards quickly. Today's high-megapixel DSLRs also can generate massive still images like those produced in the RAW format used by professional photographers who want to take advantage of the enhanced picture quality and flexibility that RAW allows during post production.
RAW images demand up to ten times as much storage space as regular JPEG images, and when taken in rapid succession during burst mode can quickly fill smaller storage cards. The 32GB SanDisk Extreme SDHC card can store up to 2500 RAW3 images, providing photographers with piece of mind and confidence that they will not run out of space for their images.
Renowned for their world-class durability, SanDisk Extreme SDHC cards guarantee operation at extended temperatures ranging from minus 13 F (minus 25 C) to 185 F (85 C). SanDisk Extreme SDHC cards are fully compatible with any camera, card reader or other device that supports SDHC cards.
When placed in SanDisk's new ImageMate® Multi-Card USB 2.0 reader/writer, the SanDisk Extreme SDHC card transfers images and video to a computer at rates of up to 30MB/s. The card's fast data transfer rates enable photographers operating under tight deadlines to maximize critical workflow and enter post production as quickly as possible.
Class 10 Performance Sets a New Standard
An SD™ card's speed Class is based on its minimum data-transfer rate, and is used to ensure high-quality video recording standards. The SD Association added Class 10 as part of the SD 3.0 specification released earlier this year. The SanDisk Extreme SDHC card's performance exceeds the requirements of even the highest-quality AVCHD video recording device, and is currently the fastest Class 10 card in the world.
The SanDisk Extreme SDHC 32GB cards will be shipping worldwide to major retailers in August. Also in August, the current 4, 8 and 16GB capacity SanDisk Extreme SDHC cards will be upgraded from Class 6 to Class 104.
About SanDisk:
SanDisk Corporation is the global leader in flash memory cards – from research, manufacturing and product design to consumer branding and retail distribution. SanDisk's product portfolio includes flash memory cards for mobile phones, digital cameras and camcorders; digital audio/video players; USB flash drives for consumers and the enterprise; embedded memory for mobile devices; and solid state drives for computers. SanDisk (www.sandisk.com/corporate) is a Silicon Valley-based S&P 500 company with more than half its sales outside of the United States.
Apple MacBook Air Laptop
Powerful performance
The M1 chip delivers 3.5x faster performance than the previous generation all while using way less power. Get up to 18 hours of battery life.


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We know you've got a lot going on—soccer practice, band rehearsals, drama club meetings and, oh yeah, that little thing called school. It all keeps you super busy, 24/7.
So we came up with a way for you to create your own Girl Scout experience, one that fits your interests and your schedule.
Just sign up for short series and one-time events on all kinds of topics. You might want to make a robot, learn a new fitness routine, attend an engineering expo, join a canoe-racing team, polish your anime and manga skills, become a jump-rope master, develop a plan to pay for college, learn how to work on cars, meet college students who can give you the inside scoop on what to expect when you arrive on campus, explore cool careers, and get your hands floury in a cupcake baking workshop… well, you get the idea!
There are tons of fun things to do in Girl Scouts—and now it's easier than ever to work them into your super-charged life.
Be a Friend First
When girls are mean, you often don't see anything at all. But you can feel it. The cliques. The eye rolling. The taunting. The rumors.
It may not look like it, but it's still bullying. Right now, when girls are bullied, almost no one intervenes.
It's time to be part of the change. Sometimes, when girls stand up for one another, the bullying stops immediately. Like, within 10 seconds! BFF (Be a Friend First) gives you the tools you can use to feel safe at school, online, and everywhere in between.
BFF teaches middle school girls to recognize bullying. To resolve conflicts. To boost confidence. To deal with mean girls and cliques. To be a better friend. To have better friends. To find the right words to stop bullying—once and for all.
Imagine Your STEM Future
Would you like to someday work in an ocean-side lab finding new ways to turn waves into clean energy? Or create an alternative universe that can show people how to treat the planet better? Or design a new public park in an old, unused space?
Then check out a series that shows you where a science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) career can take you!
Imagine having a career that lets you be creative, active, and well paid, and empowers you to make the world a better place.
Learn about this and more in Imagine Your STEM Future, a career-and leadership-development series for high school girls.

subset: commoncrawl


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All original material on this site is copyrighted 2013-2022 by Stephen M. Poole, CBRE-AMD, all rights reserved.
Most of the images were either created by me or were obtained from "free use" sources such as Wikipedia and NASA's Website. If you think that I've misappropriated your property, click the Contact button and let me know. I'll remove it posthaste. (And forthwith. And stuff like that.)
About Me
The glamorous life of the radio engineer: from left to right,
Todd Dixon, the late Steve Delay and yours truly. We're packing
a transformer from a 50,000 watt AM transmitter for shipment.
My name is Stephen M. Poole; by profession, I am a broadcast (radio) engineer. My current job is as Market Chief Engineer for Crawford Broadcasting Company (Kimtron, Inc) in Birmingham, Alabama. We have five stations in Alabama, and with the able assistance of my two assistants, Todd "Slipknot" Dixon and Jack "Dangerous Man" Bonds, we manage to assist two 100,000 watt FMs, a class A FM, a 50,000 watt AM and a 5,000 watt AM to keep nipping along smartly.
The opinions expressed here are my own, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of my employer or anyone else on the planet.
I'm not a scientist. I'm not a theologian. I'm just a guy who loves the Lord and who reads incessantly. Constantly. I'm primarily self-taught, which probably means that I'm so dangerous, you should hide the pets and potted plants when I stroll past.
I live in the huge and happy metropolis of Hayden, AL, with my wife Sandy. No children, but we have three cats, Bobby, Millie and Charlie, who are more spoiled than any human children would dare to be.
— Stephen
Romans 5:1


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Pan-Seared Hama Hama Sea Rocket Topped with Toothwort Roots & Aged Lichen
Few events excite Manhattan's top chefs more than the arrival of a care package from Evan Strusinski, a foraging savant who stalks the remote woods and coastlines of the Northeast for nature's most exotic ingredients. Forgive him his trespasses.
Heading out the door? Read this article on the new Outside+ app available now on iOS devices for members! Download the app.
ONE DAY IN MAY, in a venerable old cemetery somewhere in northwestern Connecticut, a trio of food professionals clusters around a handsome pitch pine tree delicately infused with essence of dead New England farmer. The three of them are greedily plucking pale green buds and stuffing them alternately into plastic baggies and into their mouths. "These are f———ing good," says a test-kitchen chef from the Momofuku restaurant empire. "Great texture!" a colleague agrees.
On the prowlOn the prowl
A bag of sea plantsA bag of sea plants
Sea blightSea blight
Shore grassShore grass
Evan Strusinski, who makes his living foraging wild foods, steps back and sizes up the tree as if he means to collect the whole damn thing. He eyes the car in which they arrived and asks, "Does this Prius have a roof rack?" Then he eats a few more pine buds and his voice pitches up like Regina Spektor singing about tangerines: "Oh! They're so poppy! So juicy! They inspire me to nibble."
"Put it in light syrup, focus on the texture," the Momofuku guy riffs. "Pine poppers! Serve 'em on ice cream." Later they notice the lemony-tasting sheep sorrel on a hilltop nearby, and all of them drop to their knees as though in worship.
A certain lunatic enthusiasm for wild foods tends to infect people who go foraging with Strusinski, especially when he is in his usual hunting grounds, in the mountains of Vermont or on the coast of Maine. It's contagious: Strusinski, a boyish 39-year-old with curly, uncombed hair and a now-and-then beard, will be digging edible roots with his bare hands and suddenly whoop, "I feel like a wild pig foraging for truffles!" Or he'll push back his battered fedora and start to sing as he works his scissors deftly through the perfect threadlike scapes in a sloping field of ramps—"I'm going to be rich"—and then speculate on how many scapes it will take to procure the 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser of his dreams. (The idea is not entirely far-fetched: he recently paid a doctor with wild mushrooms for removing an awkwardly placed tick.)
Filling out a shipping label one afternoon a few weeks later at a FedEx office in North Clarendon, Vermont, Strusinski pauses over the company-name line and writes "Monsanto Gone Wild." He does not have a real company name, and his reluctance to come up with one has become both a running joke and a point of pride. (Other proposed names include Forgive Me My Trespasses and Nibble & Spit.) The Styrofoam cooler boxes he uses, mostly set aside for him by local merchants, carry labels saying "Grindstone Neck of Maine" and "Think Tropical Think Tilapia." In the rush to get everything packed, Strusinski has inadvertently gotten some grass clippings caught under the packing tape. So he scribbles a message along the side: "= Authenticity."
The destinations of the packages he ships that day include some of the most highly regarded restaurants in New York City: Danny Meyer's Gramercy Tavern, Mario Batali's Del Posto, David Chang's Momofuku Ko and Ssäm Bar, Franny's in Brooklyn, and trendy newcomers Atera and Torrisi Italian Specialties.
And when the packages Strusinski sends get opened in those busy restaurant kitchens, people tend to pause. They gather around to ogle the carefully trimmed cattail shoots, sweet flag, wild ginger, sea beans, and any of about 150 or so other plants, fungi, and even lichens in which Strusinski deals. They inhale deeply as the aroma of black locust flowers comes rolling across the prep tables. "It's like opening a treasure chest," says one chef. Another sends Strusinski a text message acknowledging receipt: "Everybody in the kitchen has a culinary boner." Or, as one of Strusinski's New York visitors explains it to the FedEx lady, somewhat more discreetly, "He's a total superstar in New York. All the crazy-famous chefs really adore him."
TECHNICALLY SPEAKING the wild-foods movement has been around since we first slithered up out of the primordial ooze. Euell Gibbons ("Ever eat a pine tree?") made it a fad with his 1962 book Stalking the Wild Asparagus, and crunchy back-to-the-earth sorts have kept the movement simmering ever since, particularly in Pacific Northwest cuisine. Foraging also has deep roots in Italy, France, Russia, Korea, and Japan, where gathering mushrooms and other wild foods is almost a sacred ritual.
Widespread queasiness about our dependence on the industrialized food system has encouraged the current wild-foods revival, and the ranks of neo-foragers may now number 100,000. "The basic act of knowing how to find your own food, to feed yourself with a meal you didn't buy," notes food writer Hank Shaw in his new book Hunt, Gather, Cook, "is a small act of freedom in an increasingly regimented and mechanical world."
Restaurants have also pushed the movement toward foods that are local and "traceable," that is, connected as directly as possible to their source. Wild foods take that agenda to its logical extreme. René Redzepi, the chef whose restaurant Noma in Copenhagen has been named the best in the world by San Pellegrino the past two years, is high priest of the movement, making a point, whenever possible, of foraging himself. But when he is in America, he relies, as many top American restaurants do, on wild foods supplied by Evan Strusinski.
Strusinski is plainly thrilled by his sudden success. Until two years ago his life was, by his own description, "scattered." He grew up in rural Vermont, after his father, a landscape painter, moved the family from New York City with the dream of living an Andrew Wyeth sort of life. He began foraging when a summer-camp counselor pointed to a picture of a plant in a Euell Gibbons book and said, "Find some of this." At Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado, Strusinski studied Buddhism but could not sit still long enough. He transferred home to Bennington College to become a dancer but dropped out because he did not have the stuff. The foraging always called him back.
Since college, Strusinski has spent most of his working life in restaurants and on organic farms, including brief stints around Italy and at Istanbul's Ciya Sofrasi, a restaurant where foraged foods from the provinces sometimes bring Turkish diners to tears at the memory of childhood meals. Even now he has no permanent abode or place of business—just seasonal rentals in Vermont and Maine—and he often ends up preparing shipments in the barns or restaurant kitchens of friends.
His high-end foraging began in 2009, when he was working as a waiter at an upscale restaurant in Camden, Maine, and foraging on the side. From a friend, he heard that Momofuku founder David Chang needed someone to forage for his restaurants, and he thought, I can do that. Strusinski sent off some samples, and word spread quickly to a clique of like-minded chefs. Now they routinely send him text messages asking for sweet flag ($12 a pound), ramp scapes ($10), or whatever else happens to be in season. Sometimes a chef will say, "Send me what you think I will like." Because there is no conventional market for the stuff he sends, prices can get pulled out of the sky, sometimes literally. When the black locusts flower, money seems to be pelting down like fat New England snowflakes. But mostly it's a mad scramble to find enough of what his chefs want, and they often gently chide him for undercharging. Whatever the price, they just want more.
Strusinski worries that it's all just another food-world fad. "I figure I've got two years at this," he says. But he also dreams of bigger things: "I really want to sell to Dot's Diner down the street."
DRIVING WITH STRUSINSKI along winding New England back roads, you get the feeling he's more likely to hit Dot's Diner broadside. He has his hands in the classic ten-and-two position, simultaneously cradling the wheel and beating out a text message on a smartphone with both thumbs. Then, without looking sideways, he yelps, "Angelica! Did you see that angelica? I'm text messaging and I saw angelica!" Angelica is a tall herb with reddish-green flowers, and you can candy the stem. Then he adds, "Elder," for a tree whose flowers, just blossoming, make a good cocktail ingredient. Sometimes he drives with his head hanging backward out the window, tantalized by a promising glimpse of color, pattern, or habitat in the forest. Then he'll suddenly ululate and lurch to the side of the road to collect some chanterelles.
When he goes into the woods, his methods are a testimony to the hidden powers of attention-deficit disorder. In Maine he frets aloud about what he might be missing in Vermont, and in Vermont he frets about Maine. Everywhere, always, he frets about what kind of artistry chefs are up to with the foods he has sent them—Arctic char brined with sweet flag and sprinkled with black locust flowers, or lamb cooked in butter infused with tamarack tree needles. All the while, his eyes are drifting restlessly, alert to certain leaf shapes or, in early June, the combination of tree species and soil disturbance that could mean morel mushrooms.
He finds things, he explains, by not quite looking for them: "I'm just scanning. If you put up an image of the thing in your mind, you're looking through a filter. You're not going to find it, because it's not going to match your image. It's more a color or a pattern. I'll scan very generally, and then my eye will catch it and I'll swing back and sort of tease it out from the area."
The rest of the world may be content to get 80 percent of its agricultural tonnage from a dozen dull, reliable plants—corn, wheat, rice, and the like. But Strusinski lives to find strange and tasty (or sometimes just strange) new things for dinner. Standing on a stony beach on Penobscot Bay, with a lobster boat rumbling past and a foghorn lowing, he spots a plant growing just in front of the tree line and cries, "Oh! Look at this! It's called sea rocket." He and a visitor nibble but do not spit because it tastes too good. It has the peppery bitterness of arugula but in crisp, succulent leaves packed with sweet and salty moisture, as if the ocean has suddenly become a plant. "We are standing in a gold mine!" he says. None of his clients in New York has ever seen sea rocket before, and he means to get it to them overnight, in pristine condition, even if he has to drive it there himself. "I want them to flip. I want to get to even the most conservative of them." He takes out his scissors, conjures up his best Thor voice, and yells, "OK, let's start pillaging! Let the thunder begin." Later, he mentions that, before today, he had never tasted sea rocket. But he had read about it and seen a photograph. "I knew it grew on the coast, I knew it had that mustardy look. One little nibble and that was easy."
His chefs also crave novelty, but sometimes they balk: "'Hemlock shoots… Didn't Socrates die from that?'" Strusinski explains that Socrates actually died from a feathery herbaceous weed that also happens to be called hemlock but is not related. "The only way a hemlock tree can hurt you," he says, "is if it falls on you." When someone asks if milkweed shoots need to be boiled three times to leach out the bitterness, he replies, "A lot of that started with Euell Gibbons writing incorrectly because he was eating dogbane, which is similar in appearance."
The combination of extraordinary wild foods backed up with encyclopedic knowledge is one reason chefs have come to rely on Strusinski. Story is a popular buzzword in the food world, and Strusinski's eccentric business practices, though sometimes frustrating, also make him more appealing, more authentic, to certain restaurants. The stuff he sends "is not some fabricated thing that comes out of a plastic bag," says Matt Rudofker, a sous-chef at Ssäm Bar. "You have to pick out the leaves and clean off the dirt," and that's part of the charm. It might be easier if Strusinski concentrated on a short list of menu-friendly foods. But his latest novelties force chefs to think about food in new ways.
"There's a fascination with information about plants that we as cooks are not intimately familiar with," says Michael Anthony, executive chef at Gramercy Tavern. He recently served a dessert of marinated strawberries, for instance, and the addition of grated wild ginger from Strusinski "really married well with the strawberries and the lemon, in a way that was surprising and kind of confounding for people.
"More than that," Anthony adds, "it's like somebody who forages is connecting us to a separate universe that is right in front of our noses, part of our natural world that we don't even really see. We've grown disconnected, and this isn't really part of our living culture. And it's strange because not all that long ago, people not only recognized and celebrated these things, they depended on them."
So what are the chances of getting that back, of having ideas from Gramercy Tavern filter down to the diners of the world? Strusinski isn't a businessman at heart, nor a proselytizer for big ideas. "I don't want to be Willy Loman opening my briefcase," he says. But his heart soars for a moment when the chef at a café on a Maine island says he is planning a Wild Foods Friday. Then it turns out he just means mussels, wild mushrooms, and "gazpacho from my garden." Hold the sea rocket.
AT TWO ON A THURSDAY afternoon, Strusinski is behind the wheel again, humming the theme from Mission: Impossible, intent on getting a shipment of goose-tongue grass and rose hips to a FedEx office an hour south. First, though, there's a beach where he thinks the sea beans might just be up, and when that turns out to be a bust he switches to a stand of wood sorrel instead. Everywhere, he stops to peer into yards and woods that are known to have produced morels or chanterelles in previous years. "These spots that I have, they're like my children," he explains. "I have to check in on them. I feel their pull."
People often think that what he does is strange, Strusinski says. He once summarily sent a reporter from the Wall Street Journal out of the woods because she did not understand the pleasure of matsutake mushrooms. "Why not fall in love with mushrooms?" he asks. "It's always surprising when I see the mushrooms in a new season. I can't be sure they're coming back and then they do, and every time it delights me, it takes my breath away for a moment. When I'm an old man and can no longer go foraging, if you hold a chanterelle under my nose, the smell will make me weep."
That might sound wacky in the context of the United States, he says, but in Italy, for instance, "porcini hunting is not just some light thing. It's an annual ritual, with the whole family going out." It's a way of knowing where they live and even who they are. "People at the train station will stop you so they can smell your porcini."
Now and then, he says, something like that will happen to him in this country, too. Last summer in Camden, Maine, a group of Korean tourists were walking by, and they caught a glimpse of the matsutake mushrooms in his trunk. "I wasn't really showing, but I was showing, and everybody gathered around. They elbowed me back like a bystander, and everyone was going through the trunk like it was their own. They were wielding them, they were smelling them, they were doing these little dances with them. One woman got into a parked car with a mushroom, and I went over to see what she was doing and she was holding it up to the nose of an old woman, who was inhaling it reverentially." Afterward, they put everything back and left Strusinski behind, beaming. "Their pleasure was my pleasure," he says.
Maybe it's an impossible dream to think Americans, outside of a few fashionable restaurants, might also feel that kind of excitement. But for a moment, it was almost as if Dot's Diner had come to him.


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I have been mulling over EVE and pondering why PvP sandboxes seem so much easier to set up than PvE ones. It's related to why competitive games are easier to set up than co-operative ones. With EVE in particular, the griefing culture isn't purely down to character progression since there are plenty of choices in how to play the economic and PvP game, not all of which involve scams or griefing.
Partly it's due to the content issue: players will happily compete against other players when dropped into a sandbox. Some will happily continue to compete in the similar scenarios ad infinitum. It's cheaper and easier for players to entertain each other than to need a constant stream of PvE content.
But it's also because people generally only co-operate when they don't have a choice. Many enjoy co-operating in groups but if they didn't need the group then they might not join in the first place. Competition seems to come more naturally to us, maybe we're socialised into it.
The internet in general has been friendlier towards strongly co-operative games than you'd expect. This I think is because the early adopters were blown away by being able to interact online with other people from around the world in real time. Our first inclination was not to try to fight them, but to get together and build stuff. That's the culture in which early MUDs and MMOs were born. And it's also no surprise that so many early designers had been avid roleplayers — pen and paper RPGs are one of the few breeds of tabletop game that are genuinely co-operative. I suspect that culture will be seen as an anomaly.
Those of us who have been able to play games online where grouping was strongly encouraged, where co-operation was part of the game's culture, where players were inclined to trust others until they did something to prove untrustworthy, and where people were prepared to put their own interests second to be part of the group have been privileged to be part of a gaming culture that is vanishing. Even though those games may have been deeply frustrating at times, they represent a very unique experience.


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Working Wonders for your Image
Since 1946, we have built and executed national, regional, and local signage programs for some of the most recognizable corporations in the United States. We are a complete in-house manufacturing facility that stays on the cutting edge of sign technology and manufacturing processes. While most sign companies outsource the creation of their signs, with Southwest Signs you can feel comfortable in knowing that you are buying directly from the manufacturer. This ensures that you will receive the best price and your needs will not be diluted by a middle man. Our team of experts design and manufacture signs that increase a company's visibility, develop the brand, and help sell more products and services.


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Your dealer for pre-owned vehicles in Saint-Eustache
Éric Auto used vehicle dealer, in Saint-Eustache, near Boisbriand and Sainte-Thérèse, invites you to check out our large inventory of quality pre-owned vehicles. Whether it's a used car, SUV or truck, we have what you need, at the best price! From a Hyundai Accent to a Dodge Grand Caravan without forgetting Honda Civic, Volkswagen Jetta or Chevrolet Equinox, we have the vehicle to answer your needs. Whatever your request, whatever your situation, we will be able to help you throughout your purchasing process.
Also, among our inventory of pre-owned vehicles, you will find a wide choice of certified used vehicles! Inspected from A to Z and guaranteed by our experts, the certified pre-owned vehicles from your used vehicle dealer in Saint-Eustache offer you security at low costs!
We say YES to financing!
Who says need, often says financing. At Éric Auto, your dream vehicle has never been so accessible! There are many possibilities for obtaining the car, SUV or truck of your choice. Our car financing option can adapt to all situations! With 1st, 2nd and 3rd chance credit, at Éric Auto, we say YES! Whether you have gone bankrupt, whether you are purchasing your first vehicle, whether you have no credit history or have the best; our prices and financing options will give you the best shopping experience! Also, be aware that a pre-approval only takes a few minutes to receive!
At Éric Auto, customer service and your satisfaction take precedence over everything! Our trained and professional advisors will accompany you throughout your process with us; from the choice of your vehicle, your pre-approval and your approval for financing, the delivery of your vehicle and all after-sale follow-ups! We will always make sure that our service matches high standards.
Test drive your ideal vehicle!
When you find a vehicle you like, it is essential to test drive it! This is why we invite you to book an appointment with an advisor for a test drive at Éric Auto, in Saint-Eustache near Boisbriand and Sainte-Thérèse. You currently own a vehicle? During your appointment, we can also evaluate your vehicle which you can apply towards your next purchase. Trading in your current automotive will help you save on your next vehicle!
Want to pay even less? Visit our clearance section. But hurry! These offers are for a limited time!


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SAS® Certified Predictive Modeler Using
SAS® Enterprise Miner™ 14
Designed for SAS® Enterprise Miner™ users who perform predictive analytics
During this performance-based examination, candidates will use SAS Enterprise Miner to perform the examination tasks. It is essential that the candidate have a firm understanding and mastery of the functionalities for predictive modeling available in SAS Enterprise Miner. Successful candidates should have the ability to
- Prepare data
- Build predictive models
- Assess and implement models
- Perform pattern analysis. (new content)
Pearson VUE Registration
This exam is now available at over 2,800 Pearson VUE test centers worldwide.
Watch the instructional video before registering for the exam.
You will access SAS Enterprise Miner software during your exam. Please watch this instructional video that will demonstrate how to navigate both the exam and the lab environment.
Exam Content & Pricing
Candidates who earn this credential will have earned a passing score on the Predictive Modeling Using SAS® Enterprise Miner™ 14 exam.
- 55-60 multiple-choice and short-answer questions.
- Passing score is 725; uses a score range from 200 to 1,000 points.
For more information about scaled scores, see our FAQ.
- 165 minutes to complete exam.
- Use exam ID A00-255; required when registering with Pearson VUE.
- Candidates will use SAS Enterprise Miner to perform this exam.
Стоимость экзамена 250 долл. США.
Training & Exam Preparation
Your one-stop guide to help you prepare for SAS Certification.
- Predictive Modeling With SAS® Enterprise Miner™: Practical Solutions for Business Applications
For candidates with considerable experience in predictive modeling with SAS Enterprise Miner, this book provides a solid overview of the types of concepts and skills found in the exam.


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Speedlite 600EX II-RT
Shoot faster and for longer
Reliable performance on- and off-camera
Creative off-camera lighting from any direction using radio wireless control
Powerful performance, with guide number 60 (m, ISO100)
Easy to use, with intuitive controls and an information display
Detailed Features
Take a more detailed look into the Canon Speedlite 600EX II-RT
Shoot faster and for longer
The Speedlite 600EX II-RT delivers an uncompromising performance, making it an ideal companion for the EOS-1D X Mark II. Fire up to 50% more flashes continuously, compared with the Speedlite 600EX-RT, and add the CP-E4N battery pack for an even longer bursts.
Reliable performance on- and off-camera
An improved flash-control algorithm helps prevent overheating, and Quick Flash allows the Speedlite 600EX II-RT to fire even if a full charge hasn't yet been achieved, so you won't miss that unique moment. A zoom and bounce head ensures that flash coverage matches the lens in use, and allows light to be reflected from walls and ceilings for a more natural result. The Speedlite 600EX II-RT is weatherproofed to the same level as the EOS-1D X Mark II, so you can keep shooting even when conditions get tough.
A Bounce Adapter is included for softer lighting when shooting portraits and clip-on coloured filters help when balancing flash with ambient light.
Creative off-camera lighting from any direction
Simulate light coming from any direction by positioning the Speedlite 600EX II-RT off-camera. Fire it from up to 30m away, using built-in radio or optical control and an optional wireless trigger, the Speedlite Transmitter ST-E3-RT. Multiple Speedlite 600EX II-RT can be used together (individually or in groups) and can be combined with other Canon flashes, like the Speedlite 430EX III-RT.
Powerful performance, with guide number 60 (m, ISO100)
The Speedlite 600EX II-RT packs plenty of power, so you never be left frustrated. It's ideal for lighting large spaces, and bouncing light from walls and ceilings for a softer, more natural result. A Bounce Adapter is included, which softens flash light even more. The unit recycles silently in as little as 3.3s, and the optional CP-E4N battery pack shortens this time even further.
Easy to use, with intuitive controls and an informative display
A customisable control dial allows quick adjustments when working under pressure, while a large, illuminated display shows relevant shooting information at a glance. The charge status of all wireless flashes in the group is shown on the display of the master Speedlite 600EX II-RT unit.
|Guide No.
|141.08' / 43 m ISO 100 at 105 mm Position
|Exposure Control
|Angle of Coverage
|84° - 23.3°
Wide-Angle Adapter: 114°
|1/1 - 1/64
|Bounce Head
|0 to +90°
|Swivel Head
|14 - 105 mm (Full Frame)
|Distance Range
|2.30 to 77.43' (0.7 to 23.6 m) at f/1.4
|Zoom Head
|Full Frame: 24 - 105 mm
|Off-Camera Terminal
|Recycle Time
|Approximately 0.1 - 3.5 Seconds
|Flash Duration
|Not Specified by Manufacturer
|Flash-Ready Indicator
|-3 EV to +3 EV (in 1/3 and 1/2 EV steps)
|Wireless Operation
|Method: RF
Distance: Up to 98.43' / 30 m
Method: Optical pulse
Distance: Up to 49.21' / 15 m
|Wireless Communication Channels
|15 Channels
|Wireless Groups
|5 Groups
|Power Source
|4x AA Alkaline, Rechargeable NiMH Batteries
|Dimensions (W x H x D)
|2.8 x 4.5 x 3.9" / 70.5 x 113.8 x 98.2 mm
|10.41 oz / 295.12 g
|Packaging Info
|Package Weight
|1.3 lb
|Box Dimensions (LxWxH)
|6.7 x 5.2 x 3.7"


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Tony Plush is looking to return to the major leagues.
Outfielder Nyjer Morgan, who attracted a following and agitated opponents through his fast-talking, high-energy alter ego "Tony Plush,'' is pursuing jobs in Major League Baseball along with a possible return to Japan after spending the 2013 season with the Yokohama DeNa BayStars, his agent said Saturday.
Morgan, 33, is a .280 career hitter with 117 stolen bases in parts of six seasons with Pittsburgh, Washington and Milwaukee. His most productive season came in 2009, when he hit .307 with 42 steals for the Pirates and Nationals.
Morgan hit .294 with 11 home runs in 108 games with Yokohama in Japan's Central League in 2013, but recently switched agents and is now represented by Team One and Millennium Sports.
Jonathan Maurer, one of Morgan's new agents, said he's had a dialogue with 6-8 clubs that have expressed interest in signing the outfielder.
"Japan was a great experience for Nyjer and he would still enjoy playing there, but he's had a great deal of success in the States and would love to come back here as well,'' Maurer said. "We've had interest from teams who see him as a guy who could come in and spell a starter or possibly earn more playing time.''
Morgan's popularity crested in Milwaukee in September 2011, when 43,283 fans attended Tony Plush Rally Towel Night at Miller Park. Morgan made headlines with his exuberant lingo and an aggressive style of play that he referred to as "Plush-damentals.''
He attracted more than 70,000 followers on Twitter, was the inspiration for a faux Twitter account called "Not Tony Plush,'' and appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated with Milwaukee teammates Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder.
But Morgan also generated attention for some combative antics during his tenure in the big leagues. He engaged in some spirited back-and-forth with fans in San Francisco, clashed with St. Louis pitcher Chris Carpenter and received an eight-game suspension and a $15,000 fine for his part in a series of brawls in 2010.
"I just figure we're entertainers,'' Morgan said in a 2011 interview with ESPN.com. "We're on one of the biggest stages. Trust me, if I was batting .202, I wouldn't be doing the [expletive] I'm doing.''


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Minibus Hire with a driver in Brierley Hill
At Cheap coach hire we have been offering expert minibus hire for many years, sharing an exquisite range of coaches for all sorts of trips. Located in Brierley Hill, we are happy to serve the area with an unbeatable list of minibus hire with a driver and Mini bus hire services. Whether that be for wedding guests, prom kings and queens or pupils on a school trip, our varied fleet comprises of something for everyone.
Modern editions
While a brand with undeniably traditional values, when it comes to our fleet, we are nothing but modern. With many coaches fitted with music systems, televisions, air conditioning and in many cases, free Wi-Fi, we ensure we can offer a cutting edge Minibus Hire facility for the people and tourists of Brierley Hill to make use of.
Minibus Hire availability
Having been in business for many years, we enjoy over 20 years of experience delivering Minibus Hire in Brierley Hill. In that time we've gone to great lengths to maintain our position as a top brand, ensuring we have coaches available as and when people need them.
This goes for coach trips of all types. So, if you are planning any of the following, get in touch for a free, no obligation quote.
- Weddings and civil ceremonies
- Birthday parties and anniversaries
- School, college and university trips
- Business trips
- Proms and Graduations
- Sporting events and matches


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Seen here on the set of the 1968 movie , we have Michael Caine and his exemplary gorge height. Often confused with button stance for some reason, gorge is actually best described as the literal notch in that notch lapel. Playing an American abroad, it's fitting that Caine's gorge hits at his collarbone, as European tailoring has traditionally favored a higher placement than stateside styles. This is especially true for the Italians and their innumerable tailoring houses peppering the countryside, as a high gorge draws attention upward to their jackets' signature (Italian for "shirt shoulder").
Deadfallspalla camicia
As for the rest of the world, well, it all depends on what sort of look you're going for. If you're skinny and want to add some substance to your upper half, a lower gorge will do just that. If you want to look taller, a higher gorge and a lower button stance will create a strong "V" shape throughout your torso, which gives the illusion of height. The possibilities with gorge placement are myriad, and also highly personal. Of course, as with all tailoring, there are standards — and they reside right around that happy medium. Drop the gorge too low, and you'll look dated. Bring it too high, and it'll look like your lapels are trying to fly away. And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?
Jake Gallagher is a writer living in Manhattan. He writes the blog Wax Wane.
See more lessons you can learn from style icons, here.


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Create a Website Account - Manage notification subscriptions, save form progress and more.
The Manor was built in 1906 and sits on 113.8 acres of land owed by St. Joseph County, Indiana. The 144 bed residential care facility feels like home from the moment you drive up the circular driveway to its white-pillared porch. Though you may be impressed by the architecture, it has been said that the beauty comes from the love in the hearts of the people inside.
The first time you open the solid oak double front doors you know you are some place special, a place where life isn't in such a hurry; a place where people not only take the time to talk with one another, but to listen too.
If you are looking for alternative living arrangements that include a caring atmosphere along with the convenience of three home style meals, assistance with medication and housekeeping, plus a most lively activities program we invite you to visit us.
A wide variety of people live here, along with our newest addition, Bodie, our therapy dog, who was adopted thru the St. Joseph County Humane Society. St. Joseph County residents over age 65+ find that Portage Manor is a supportive retirement home. People between 18 and 65 with a physical or mental disability also make their home with us.
We are proud to note that people come here for the assistance we offer, but often move into more independent settings after having to "get on their feet" with treatment programs in South Bend.


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Aevon trailers are available in many shops. Our dealers are located in France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland and the US.
Blue bikes represent the shops with a demo trailer, green bikes represent the shops where you can order your Aevon trailer.
We are looking for dealers all over the world, please contact us for more informations.


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This video from Brazil is about the three-banded armadillo as soccer World Cup 2014 symbol.
From the Caatinga Association, conservationists in Brazil:
After 64 years, Brazil returns to stage the biggest sporting spectacle on the planet: World Cup Soccer and any [animal] that is chosen for the event should show the "face" of Brazil and the "face" of our football.
The Caatinga Association, an institution that advocates the development and protection of our biodiversity, [has] proposed as an animal mascot [a] very special and unique [species] that only exists here in Brazil: the three-banded armadillo (Tolypeutes tricinctus), [with] the ability to bend upon itself to protect themselves when threatened, leaving the shape of a ball.
[It is] nocturnal, feeds on ants, termites, spiders and berries. It is the most endangered armadillo from Brazil and has already [become extinct in] many states. [It shows] peculiar behavior, which could brighten the cup, showing the world our rich nature and our commitment to biodiversity as well as sensitiz[ing] the people of Brazil for the defense and protection of our nature. This graceful animal is the main protagonist in the name of football: the ball.


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Tropical monsoon climate, occasionally also known as a tropical wet climate or tropical monsoon and trade-wind littoral climate in climate classification, is a relatively rare type of climate. Tropical monsoon climates have monthly mean temperatures above 18°C (64°F) in every month of the year and feature wet and dry seasons, as Tropical savanna climates do. Unlike tropical savanna climates however, a tropical monsoon climate's driest month sees less than 60 mm (2.36 in) of precipitation. Also a tropical monsoon climate tends to see less variance in temperatures during the course of the year than a tropical savanna climate. This climate has a driest month which nearly always occurs at or soon after the "winter" solstice for that side of the equator.
The Köppen Climate Classification subtype for this climate is "Am". (Tropical Monsoon Climate).
The average temperature for the year in Freeport is 77.0°F (25°C). The warmest month, on average, is July with an average temperature of 84.0°F (28.9°C). The coolest month on average is January, with an average temperature of 69.0°F (20.6°C).
The highest recorded temperature in Freeport is 102.0°F (38.9°C), which was recorded in July. The lowest recorded temperature in Freeport is 41.0°F (5°C), which was recorded in January.
The average amount of precipitation for the year in Freeport is 58.0" (1473.2 mm). The month with the most precipitation on average is September with 9.9" (251.5 mm) of precipitation. The month with the least precipitation on average is April with an average of 2.1" (53.3 mm). There are an average of 119.0 days of precipitation, with the most precipitation occurring in September with 16.0 days and the least precipitation occurring in January with 7.0 days.


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I lost 53 pounds over the course of 10 months. I dropped three dress sizes, went from a BMI of 32 to 23 (so, from clinically obese to a healthy weight) and went from someone who lived on the couch to running 5Ks and living for spin classes.
I'm happy about the health benefits, but in some ways, I've never felt worse about myself. That was the biggest shock of all: even at a weight I should be proud of, I still feel unhappy about how I look.
Let me explain. I began this weight loss "journey" in April 2012. I'd been overweight for a long time, so when my post-college weight came close to 200 pounds (I'm 5'5"), I was not surprised and also not particularly motivated to do much about it. I'd tried diets before that hadn't stuck, leaving me the same weight or heavier than before and doubly discouraged. I had a job in my chosen industry, a New York City apartment, great friends, a wonderful boyfriend — so what if I shopped in the XL section? My bad eating habits and lack of exercise weren't stopping me from having everything I'd wanted in life.
More From Cosmopolitan
What changed my mind was a photo taken during a trip to Key West, Florida, for a friend's wedding. I don't know what it was about that particular photo — the lighting was fine, the angle was normal, I wasn't dressed in anything unflattering — but something made me stop. I wanted to delete it, I wanted to hide it, I wanted to cry. It suddenly hit me that I didn't want to look like that anymore.
So I signed up for Weight Watchers and joined the gym. And, little by little, the weight came off — a pound one week, two pounds other weeks, sometimes none at all. I was going about all this the "right" way, and it was working; less than a year later, I'd dropped more than 50 pounds. I should have been happy, and I was. But it also brought on all these other feelings I wasn't prepared for. I'm much more aware of how I look now — and often, a lot more critical. This body is healthier and stronger (and yes, smaller) than the one I had before, but it doesn't always feel like mine. I once said "excuse me" to a woman in a clothing store and tried to let her go around me, only to realize that I was talking to myself, in a mirror, like a crazy person. I didn't even recognize my own reflection.
My relationship with food has totally changed. I'm no longer officially on Weight Watchers, which involves tracking every single thing you eat and drink, but I'm still second-guessing food choices and keeping a mental inventory of what I want to eat, what I ate earlier that day, what I might want to eat later this week. There's a lot of guilt and fear that if I'm not "careful," I'll gain it all back. I know in my heart there's nothing wrong with indulgences in moderation, but I still have to remind myself that it's OK if I have a cupcake or want to eat a bagel some Saturday mornings.
Then there's the matter of clothes. It sounds like the world's biggest first-world problem, but imagine if everything in your closet didn't fit. Every. Single. Thing. Your winter coat? Nope. All of your pants? Sorry! I couldn't afford to replace my entire wardrobe at once (I'm still working on it), so figuring out what to wear each morning was extra anxiety-inducing for a while, because too-big clothes don't look good either.
Exercise has become a big part of my life, too, which is great, obviously, but also sort of compounds my weird feelings about food. I aim to work out three or four times a week, and have beat myself up over it if other plans or, heaven forbid, just wanting to relax gets in the way. I trade food for exercise in my mind, and I'm still working on not withholding food if I didn't exercise "enough."
Breaking your mind out of weight loss mode is hard. Without a changing number on the scale, I'm no longer getting any reinforcement of whether I'm doing the "right" things or not. No one tells you about that part, or about the parts where you are left with loose skin, intensified swimsuit anxiety, and the feeling that the person you see in the mirror isn't "you."
The anxieties will eventually lessen, I hope, but even if they don't, I keep reminding myself that I literally changed my life. I took the steps I needed to take to be healthy. I eat more fruits and vegetables than ever before, and I like them. I can run a mile; I can run three miles! I'm even toying with the idea of training for a half marathon. I'm slowly teaching myself that my self-satisfaction shouldn't be tied to my appearance, but to my health and career success and incredible network of friends. All that has brought tremendous good to my life — those are the things that really define me, and they're most definitely worth celebrating. Possibly even with cookies.
Photo Credit: Michele Moricci exclusively for Cosmopolitan.com
Want more from Michele? Visit his website at michelemoriccidesigner.com and find his illustrations on Facebook.


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The Age of Chatterbox
Mr. Chatterbox often reflected that he was aging beautifully. He embraced the whole process. It was a natural and beautiful thing, like watching children grow. And oh, the wisdom it produced. You can't really feel totally evolved until you are past the half century mark, or in Mr. Chatterbox's case, well past it.
And fortunately these days, particularly in Sarasota, there were all sorts of ways to slow down the aging process. Indeed, most of the residents did not appear to age past 50; they got there and then magically stopped, decaying only slightly until they were finally called to their reward. All you needed, really, was careful diet and exercise—plus the ministrations of the anti-aging community. And Mr. Chatterbox's favorite ministrations were those performed at the day spa he went to, a discreet little place tucked away in Burns Court and evocatively titled Mer de.
It was so convenient to be able to get everything done at the same place. They offered all sort of skin treatment and non-invasive facelifts and a complete line of beauty services, plus personalized Pilates and soon—if those rumors were true—high colonics.
On Wednesdays, a man named "Dr. Smith" came in and administered Botox. Mr. Chatterbox had just had his injection and was enjoying his comforting "Botox buzz" when he barely but quite distinctly heard his name being mentioned. It seemed to be coming from just over the partition.
"Mr. Chatterbox?" a woman said. "Who's he?"
"He writes for Sarasota Magazine."
"Oh, yeah. Him. But, like, isn't he real old?"
Mr. Chatterbox's heart froze.
"Old? He's totally ancient."
"Is he here?"
"Oh, he's always here. He's their biggest customer. They dye his hair."
They both burst into peals of laughter. What was this? Some nightmare he'd stumbled into?
"And you know what I heard?"
"They did demographic studies and it turns out that young people hate him. In fact, they hate him so much that the magazine has decided to fire him."
Mr. Chatterbox didn't hear the rest. A strange ringing filled his ears. What a horrible piece of gossip. Or was it? It certainly would explain the strange things that had been happening lately. The meetings he wasn't told about. That accusation about "stealing" office supplies. And that unfortunate "misunderstanding" about his seat on the bus coming back from the company picnic in Immokalee, when he was forced to beg a ride with a couple from Michigan who saw him wandering along the highway.
He had feared it might be incipient Alzheimer's. Now he knew it was even worse—they were trying to fire him!
As soon as his manicure dried he fled the day spa and hurried over to the Sarasota Magazine office. His mind was filled with many thoughts as he huffed and puffed his way across the street. The irony was that young people adored him. He spoke to them at their level. Why, just several years ago he had befriended a young person who complimented him on his column, and the two of them had become great friends. It was too bad that the young person then stole $250 in cash and a pair of gold cufflinks. But the point is—Mr. Chatterbox knew the young.
He burst into the editor's office. Pam Daniel was sitting at her desk, leafing through a copy of Vogue and sighing sadly.
"So!" Mr. Chatterbox screamed. "I'm onto your little scheme."
She looked at him wearily. "What now?"
"You fire me and you're going to be hit with the biggest age discrimination suit you ever saw! I'm going to drag your name all over the front page of the Herald-Tribune. Well, maybe not the Herald-Tribune. They no longer have a front page. But all the others."
"Now, Chatty, please . . ."
"And don't call me Chatty. You should teach yourself some manners. Without me there wouldn't be any Sarasota Magazine."
"I can go anywhere in town and get a job. I can go to the Herald-Tribune. Well, maybe not the Herald-Tribune. But all the others. SRQ! They're always putting out feelers. They'd hire me in a minute."
"Calm down."
"I will not calm down. You can't fire me with all you little trickery, because I'm too smart. I quit!"
"Is that a promise?"
That night, around 10 p.m., Mr. Chatterbox finally calmed down. And as he did so he realized he had blundered. There was no offer from SRQ. That was all bluff. They'd already turned him down three times. The last time Wes Roberts was particularly kind, though, and even pressed $20 into his hand.
And his new condo. How could he afford it without an income? 1350 Main, and he bought at the top of the market. Now he was going broke rapidly. He owed money all over town. Morton's. The Cork Shop. Michael's Wine Cellar. ABC Liquors. Why, just yesterday Steve Haber from G. Fried called. He wanted his carpet back.
The doorbell rang. It was his neighbor from across the hall, photographer Barbara Banks. He'd known Barbara for years. She was the only one who truly understood him, and she often dropped by late at night to try and get back some of the money he owed her.
How Mr. Chatterbox admired Barbara. No longer a spring chicken, she had somehow maintained the admiration of the young. With her smart capri pants and her wind-tousled mane, she was everything he wished he could be.
Barbara lounged on his sectional as he told her what had happened.
"You've got a problem," she agreed.
"What am I going to do?"
"First of all, pull yourself together. Quit crying and get up off the floor. You've got to get some kind of job. Immediately."
"Like what? Delivering pizza? I can't do that. It's undignified, and besides I no longer drive after dark."
"Maybe Sally Schule needs a perfume spritzer at Saks. Maybe Phil Mancini needs a catering waiter."
"Me serving food to everybody in Sarasota? To the people I write about? Warming up Marjorie North's decaf? Bringing Annette Scherman some more s'mores? I don't think so."
We both thought hard for a moment.
"You could sell real estate. I hear a lot of jobs are open."
"Please. I need income."
Silence again.
Then Barbara clapped her hands. "I know. Selena Van Tisdale is looking for an assistant."
Mr. Chatterbox's eyes lit up. Selena Van Tisdale. She was the golden girl of the moment. Her name was on everybody's lips. She had her own online realty firm. She was on the museum board. She was on the list of Sarasota's 100 Most Powerful People. And she was still in her 20s. They called her the female Matt Orr.
So what if it was just an assistant job. Why, once he got his foot in the door . . . He could escort her to parties. People would fawn over him, just to get access. And the opportunities for pilfering the petty cash must be unlimited. Maybe . . . just maybe . . . he could talk her into buying Scene Magazine. Then he'd have his old column back again.
"Oh, please," he begged Barbara. "Call her. Call her."
Selena Van Tisdale lived in the penthouse at 1350 Main. On the top floor the ceilings were much higher and the units much larger. Mr. Chatterbox saw unit No. 1 as soon as he stepped off the elevator.
He rang the bell and waited. Nothing happened. Presently he rang again. At this moment the door opened.
"Don't ring twice," said a very angry young woman. "What do you want?"
"Is Selena in?"
"Do you mean Miss Van Tisdale?"
"I'm sorry. . . I think she's expecting me."
"Nonsense. I'm Miss Van Tisdale," she said, and she shut the door.
Mr. Chatterbox rang again.
"Yes?" said Miss Van Tisdale, appearing instantly. "Oh, it's you. Are you here about the vacuum cleaner?"
"Well, I can't see you right now. I'm expecting some old geezer who wants to work for me."
"But I want to work for you."
"What an extraordinary coincidence. Well, I suppose I can talk to you after I talk to him. Come in and wait."
Mr. Chatterbox followed Selena into the living room. All of Sarasota lay spread out before him—the magnificent condos of downtown, many in foreclosure, the vacant lots, the giant tooth, the traffic jam, the flotilla of homeless people who lived on the bay. He flinched as a seagull flew into the plate glass window and fell to the terrace, dead.
"That's another one of your duties," Selena said. "Clean up all the dead seagulls."
Mr. Chatterbox studied his possible new employer. She was everything you hated in a young person. Her face was taut and unlined. Her hair was golden and probably extended, and when she flung it around for emphasis it moved like a whip. Her clothes, though casual in the extreme, were the most expensive that Snitch had to offer. As he sat there she made several calls on her cell phone and ate yogurt. She ignored him totally.
I need this job, Mr. Chatterbox kept repeating to himself. I need this job.
There were calls to and from Andrew and Amie and Tom and Liesl. And Marjorie and Margaret and Veronica and Drayton. And Unni and Ulla and the Bobs. Finally she got up for more yogurt and the phone rang again. "Get that," she yelled.
"Van Tisdale residence," Mr. Chatterbox said.
"Selena?" The voice was British and unmistakable. "You sound so girlish all of a sudden."
"It's me, Cliff. Mr. Chatterbox."
Selena came on the line. "That's all right. I'll take it."
Mr. Chatterbox made some clicking sounds with his bridgework and pretended he had hung up.
"Oh, Cliff, don't be too mad at me. But I'm thinking of hiring this other guy."
"Why? I thought we had a deal."
"You don't need another job, Cliff. You have too many already. The charity shows and the auctions and the speeches and the acting roles and the radio and the magazine articles. They're taking you away from your true passion in life, Cliff. Away from the one thing Cliff Roles was born to do—translate legal documents into German."
"But why him?"
"I feel sorry for him. He reminds me of my grandfather. I mean my great- grandfather."
It doesn't matter how you get the job, Mr. Chatterbox decided. The important thing is that once you get it, you run with it. In fact, he wanted it so badly that he suggested a deal with Selena—he would work for one week for free, as a sort of trial period. After that week they would both review his performance and then decide on salary.
Mr. Chatterbox had heard what fabulous salaries young people made. Why, Pam Daniel's son made a million dollars a year, according to his mother, and he sent her a check every month to help out with her medication and bingo. Anything was better than what he was making now—$18,000 a year and no benefits. True, he was eligible to participate in the All Media Foodbank Program, whereby employees of local media, like the Herald-Tribune, were allowed to help themselves to unsold take-out from the big dumpster behind Whole Foods. But still, it had always been a struggle.
He wasn't going to screw up this time, and during that all-important first week, he didn't. He made sure he was there by eight in the morning, and no task was too menial. He gladly picked up dry cleaning and made Starbuck's runs and re-organized the spice rack and scrubbed the bathtubs and toilets. He didn't know where he got the energy (although those pills he found in Selena's medicine chest certainly helped).
And Selena's life was so exciting! She was the ultimate Sarasota young person. In fact, she'd been honored as Young Person of the Year by the Chamber, the Hospital Board, the Wellness Community and the UJA. Like so many young people these days, she didn't limit herself to one job but instead had her hand in so many pots. There were her various online businesses (real estate, PR, networking, and self-esteem classes), plus all the projects she was doing with others. She was currently working with all the Michaels: Michael Saunders, Michael Klauber, Michael Edwards and Michael Moulton.
But it was in social leadership that she truly excelled. No party got off the ground without her input, and everyone wanted her to chair their committee. Naturally, she had to limit herself these days and only pick the cream of the crop. This season her special "baby" was Arty Night for the Arts Council. It was Selena's idea to hold it in the ruins of the Quay, complete with elephants and camels and a fashion show by Hello Kitty.
Mr. Chatterbox's trial week flew by. It had been a baptism of fire, a veritable boot camp of challenges, but he had risen to them all. There was only one tiny little thing that had been bothering him. All week long he had been receiving strange things on his new cell phone. He wasn't sure but he thought these things might be the fabled "text messages" that he heard so much about. What on earth did they mean? And what should he do about them? He couldn't dare reveal his ignorance to Selena.
True, he could bluff his way through an e-mail, as long as he just had to hit "reply." (He knew there was a way to write a whole new one from scratch, but he had no idea how.) And he certainly knew how to charge things online. But what were these strange things that people wore in their ears? And what, in God's name, was an iPod? And these strange phones that you wave your hand over? Why, Selena even had something on her computer, called Squidge or Squark or something like that, where you could carry on a conversation, live, with a person right on your . . . what do you call it? Screen?
On Friday morning he got another one of these strange text messages. It had various "!!!!" after it and it kept coming, over and over and over. He desperately called Barbara at work. She was out on Longboat Key, photographing foreclosed homes for the upcoming real estate auction.
"It says WYCMRN. What on earth does that mean?"
"That means, call me immediately or I'll kill you. Don't you know that?"
"I don't know any of them. Well, I do know BFF. And 420. But this other stuff…"
"OK, call Selena back, then call me and I'll give you a little list."
"Oh, thank you, Barbara, thank you!"
Selena, oddly enough, didn't answer her phone. Hmmm, Mr. Chatterbox thought. He left a voice message that he was at her house and awaiting her call.
He sat in Selena's office. She had decorated it to perfection, part game room, part lounge, part boudoir. In the boudoir part she had her collection of vintage jewelry displayed, draped on fishwire and looking ever so glamorous. As it so happened, he adored vintage jewelry and was always over at the Woman's Exchange, looking for a piece.
His eyes rested on a pair of tutti frutti earrings, classics from the 1940s, and his heart beat a little faster. They were exquisite. He wondered if the clip was tight. That was the problem with these old earrings. So he slipped one on. Then the other. He went into the bathroom to see what they looked like. But before he could get there, there was a commotion at the computer. Chimes were going off.
He ran over. Trepidatiously, he jiggled the mouse. Selena's face appeared on the screen.
"There you are," she said. Behind her Mr. Chatterbox could detect all sorts of revelry—champagne glasses, pretty girls, a live band.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"David Band's yacht,' she replied. "We're having an Asolo board retreat. Now, listen. Call the Arty Night committee and tell them personally to meet me at Selva at 5:30. We're about to lose Hello Kitty unless we move fast. And I want you there. Got that?"
"Oh, yes, Selena, yes! Anything else?"
She looked closer at the screen.
"Take off my earrings."
Mr. Chatterbox entered Selva and sniffed. It had the heady aroma of youthful sweat. Of youthful sweat and liquor and cocktail snacks and all the other wonderful things age had forced him to surrender. But now he was back on the scene! With a vengeance.
He was a tiny bit late, if truth be told. All day he had fretted about his outfit, and as the magic hour approached he had to face facts. He didn't have a thing to wear. So he ran over to Snitch at the last moment and bought one of those hip new T-shirts with the Virgin of Guadalupe on it. Everybody was wearing them, and even though they didn't really have his size, they did have one almost as big.
He spied Selena and her party over in the corner. Half of them were talking to each other and the other half were talking on cell phones to other people. How marvelous. It was like one big extended party with the universe, everyone plugged in with everyone else.
He approached and discreetly handed Selena the Hello Kitty contract he had been instructed to bring. There didn't seem to be a place for him to sit, and there were no empty chairs; fortunately he was able to squeeze onto the corner of a banquette, although he couldn't really get his rear end on it and had to support himself by his legs, sort of squatting.
He was blending in so beautifully with the young people. Why, they weren't even looking at him, just accepting him totally in the moment, like he was just another one of them. How witty they all seemed. He listened as the conversation ricocheted around, glamorous talk of rehab and business deals and love affairs and "baby bumps" and Mercedes-Benz and community service—both kinds.
His Virgin of Guadalupe T-shirt was a big hit, he could tell. Everybody was stealing glances at it and smiling.
He was a tiny bit nervous, so he drank two mojitos real quick. That made him feel much more relaxed. Soon he was starting to contribute to the conversation, saying funny things and throwing in his "two cents" on a wide variety of topics, from religion to politics to the price of gas. In fact, he talked a great deal about the price of gas when he was a kid, until he noticed that everyone at the table had suddenly become engrossed in their private phone calls.
Luckily, someone began telling a story about everyone's dear friend So and So, who Mr. Chatterbox did not personally know but pretended he did. She did this, she did that. In fact, just yesterday she had spent $7,000 on sheets.
"The slut!" Mr. Chatterbox called out wittily. Even he sensed that perhaps he had gone too far. He guessed hopefully that she might be a slut and it would be funny. But apparently she wasn't a slut and it wasn't funny.
He felt a strange tingling in his groin area. His cell phone. It was vibrating. He dug into his pocket and pulled it out. There was a text message. Thank God he had brought along that list Barbara had prepared for him.
He squinted at the message. He wouldn't need the list. This one was easy to figure out. YOU'RE FIRED, it said. LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. He looked at Selena. She was glaring at him.
Mr. Chatterbox stumbled out of Selva in a haze, still clutching his mojito. He turned to his right and fled down Main Street. Soon he found himself at the bayfront. He saw before him the giant tooth and settled on the grass, surrounded by its roots.
So. That was it. His big comeback was not to be. He would never be co-owner of Scene magazine. He would never be a star reporter for SRQ. This was it. The end of the road.
Well, if the young could do without him, he could do without the young. Who did they think they were? Wait until they got a little mileage under their belts. That'd knock a little humility into them. And they weren't all that interesting, anyway. Not compared to some of the people he'd known.
Mr. Chatterbox squinted at the sunset and thought, "Oh, the good old days." It was a beautiful Sarasota sunset, mostly blues and pinks. One of the puffy clouds caught his eye and he studied it. Why, it looked like someone. Who? My God, it was Norman Scherman. He was smiling down at Mr. Chatterbox. Good old Norman—life was never as much fun since he died—when, 10 years ago? And there—right next to Norman. Wasn't that Ed Keating? He always cracked Mr. Chatterbox up. And look—in that cloud. It was Grace Penner—so beautiful and married to the richest man in town. The perfect combination. And over there—Florence Howard and Barbara Hirsch-York. And there was Helen Griffith! And even Sally Traeger . It all came back to him—the men and women who had once ruled the city, back when Sarasota was classy and sophisticated and glamorous and he was the toast of the town.
Mr. Chatterbox felt at peace for the first time in ages. The sun's rays lit his face as he took the last sip of his mojito. It tasted so sweet. He closed his eyes, and as he drifted off underneath the big tooth, he dreamt of Sarasota Past. He dreamt of the parties and the dancing and the money and the scandals, and as the glass rolled from his hand and unconsciousness overtook him, he was finally, blessedly young again.
Robert Plunket, also known as Mr. Chatterbox, is the author of the comic novels My Search for Warren Harding and Love Junkie.


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NC to share in extra $2B for high-speed rail
Amtrak and rail projects in 15 states, including North Carolina, are being awarded the $2 billion that Florida lost after the governor canceled plans for high-speed train service, the Department of Transportation said Monday. North Carolina wasn't among the winners of the extra funding.Posted — Updated
The largest share of the money — nearly $800 million — will be used to upgrade train speeds from 135 mph to 160 mph on critical segments of the heavily traveled Northeast corridor, the department said in a statement..
Another $404 million will go to expand high-speed rail service in the Midwest, including newly constructed segments of 110-mph track between Detroit and Chicago that are expected to save passengers 30 minutes in travel time.
Nearly $340 million will go toward state-of-the-art locomotives and rail cars for California and the Midwest. California will also get another $300 million toward trains that will travel up to 220 mph between San Francisco and Los Angeles.
"These projects will put thousands of Americans to work, save hundreds of thousands of hours for American travelers every year, and boost U.S. manufacturing by investing hundreds of millions of dollars in next-generation, American-made locomotives and rail cars," Vice President Joseph Biden said in a statement.
President Barack Obama has sought to make creation a national network of high-speed trains a signature project of his administration. He has said he wants to make fast trains accessible to 80 percent of Americans within 25 years.
The money – initially $2.4 billion – had been awarded to Florida for high-speed trains between Tampa and Orlando. After Gov. Rick Scott canceled the project, the Transportation Department invited other states to bid for the funds. It received 90 applications seeking a total of $10 billion.
North Carolina obtained $4 million of the money, which officials said would pay for an environmental analysis of the route of high-speed trains planned between Raleigh and Richmond, Va.
Scott said he was concerned that the state government would be locked into years of operating subsidies. However, a report by the state's transportation department forecast the rail line would be profitable. The project initially had been approved by Scott's predecessor, Republican-turned-Independent Charlie Crist.
Two other Republican governors elected in November have canceled high-speed train projects in their states. Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker turned down $810 million to build a Madison-to-Milwaukee high-speed line. Ohio Gov. John Kasich rejected $400 million for a project to connect Cincinnati, Cleveland and Columbus with slower-moving trains. Both the Ohio and Wisconsin projects had been approved by the governors' Democratic predecessors.
Republican members of Congress have also opposed funds for high-speed trains, rescinding $400 million of the money previously awarded Florida as well as other unspent money designated for trains in budget deliberations with the administration.
A bill pending in the North Carolina General Assembly would require the state Department of Transportation of obtain legislative approval before spending any of the rail money awarded to the state last year.
Copyright 2023 by WRAL.com and the Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.


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Silent Witness Report Form
The Silent Witness Report Form is designed to allow individuals to report incidents they are aware of and remain anonymous if they so choose. If you have information you believe university officials should know about, fill out the Silent Witness Report Form and university officials will follow up.
This form should not be used to report ongoing emergencies. If you have an emergency call 911 or University Security at 507-389-2111 immediately.
Submissions are not constantly monitored and will typically be received on the next business day.
If you are reporting an incident of sexual assault, dating/relationship violence, or stalking, you may choose a custom alternative reporting form.


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Tuesday is the beginning of Air Quality Awareness Week, a cooperative effort among Environmental Protection Agency, state environmental agencies and the National Weather Service of the United States to remind the public to protect their health by paying attention to local air quality.
With the onset of warmer weather, the EPA urges citizens to be aware of the increased risk of ground-level ozone air pollution and fine particle air pollution (when combined, often referred to as smog), and take health precautions when poor air quality is predicted.
Air quality is defined as a measure of the condition of air relative to the requirements of one or more biotic species and or to any human need or purpose.
Air quality indices (AQI) are numbers used by government agencies to characterize the quality of the air at a given location. As the AQI increases, an increasingly large percentage of the population is likely to experience increasingly severe adverse health effects.
To compute the AQI requires an air pollutant concentration from a monitor or model. The function used to convert from air pollutant concentration to AQI varies by pollutant, and is different in different countries.
Air quality index values are divided into ranges, and each range is assigned a descriptor and a color code. Standardized public health advisories are associated with each AQI range. An agency might also encourage members of the public to take public transportation or work from home when AQI levels are high.
Air quality forecasts are issued daily by the state air agencies. Current air quality conditions and next day forecasts are available each day at the state's web site. People can also sign up to receive air quality alerts. The alert system automatically notifies participants by e-mail or text message when poor air quality is predicted in their area.
The higher the air quality index and the higher the related risk. Good or low corresponds to acceptable or low risk situations. High values present an unhealthy high risk for respiratory ailments.
Ozone, particulates, NOx, and SO2 are common sources of poor air quality. To protect one's health, citizens should limit their strenuous outdoor activity on air quality alert days, and help take steps to reduce emissions when air quality is unhealthy.
Warm summer temperatures aid in the formation of ground-level ozone and fine particle pollution. In 2008, EPA strengthened the ozone air quality health standard. The new ozone standard is set at 0.075 parts per million on an 8-hour average basis. Air quality alerts (for example) are issued when ozone concentrations exceed, or are predicted to exceed, this level.
Poor air quality affects everyone, but some people are particularly sensitive to air pollutants, including children and adults who are active outdoors, and people with respiratory diseases, such as asthma. When air quality is predicted to be unhealthy, EPA and the states will announce an air quality alerts for the affected areas.
It is recommended that people in these areas limit strenuous outdoor activity, and reduce certain usages as follows:
-Use public transportation or walk whenever possible;
-Combine errands and car-pool to reduce driving time and mileage;
-Use less electricity by turning air conditioning to a higher temperature setting, and turning off lights, TVs and computers when they are not being used;
-Avoid using small gasoline-powered engines, such as lawn mowers, chain saws and leaf blowers on unhealthy air days.
Cars, motorcycles, trucks, and buses are a primary source of the pollutants that make smog. Fossil-fuel burning at electric-generating stations, particularly on hot days, also generates significant smog-forming pollution. Other industries, as well as smaller sources, such as gasoline stations and print shops, also contribute to smog. In addition, household products like paints and cleaners, as well as gasoline-powered lawn and garden equipment, also contribute to smog formation.


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Love to ensure your fur baby is neat and smelling divine? Absolutely! But how do you navigate the huge array of services out there to avoid your pooch's chop being a flop?
The right pet groomer possesses certain personal qualities. They like working with animals and are comfortable around them. They have compassion for and patience with their four-legged clients.
However, they must also deal with pet owners, so they must show the same traits when dealing with humans. Pet groomers must have physical stamina. Not only might they need to lift heavy animals onto the worktable, some grooming sessions can last for two hours or more.
Groomers must be detail-oriented, especially when preparing animals for a show as each breed must be carefully groomed to meet established standards.
Consider these points when searching for the right groomer for your pet.
Although most grooming tasks do not require extensive training, the more experience a groomer has, the better. You want a groomer who is reputable, the same way you want a beautician or any personal care professional to have the necessary skills and training when you need services yourself.
You have to find the person who fits your pet and your individual needs. You want someone who knows what they are doing in general with any pet and for your particular pet as well. Take the time to check them out to find a groomer who is qualified.
Some groomers may require proof of immunisations for your pet, so remember if they are requiring this, they are thinking about the health and welfare of all of their clients, including your pet, so this is a good thing, not an annoyance.
Many groomers prefer that the owners are out of sight so there are no distractions for them or the pet. The presence of an owner may be more detrimental than helpful if your pet is trying to get away from the groomer and get to you. Your pet could get cut or hurt the groomer if they are too agitated and distracted to sit still. If you've found a good groomer you are comfortable leaving your pet with and returning when the grooming is finished, that may work better for you, the pet and the groomer. However, some pets are more comfortable if their human companion is nearby. Find out what the groomer's preference is and work with them.
Not all pets like being groomed, or they may resist going to the groomers. Some are more aggressive than others, particularly when put in what they see as an uncomfortable, stressful or threatening situation. Know your pet's temperament and relay that to the groomer. They may or may not be able or willing to work with your pet.
Basic grooming may include bathing, cutting nails or cutting hair. There are groomers who also offer over the top pampering for your pet. Whether or not that is necessary is up to you. If cost is an issue, compare groomers and see what services are included or offered for what fees. Big and fancy is not necessarily better than simple and straightforward service. Know what you are getting for your money.
In summary
Going to the groomers should not be a horrible experience for your pet or for you. Some pets love & anticipate it so much they get excited when it's time to go see their groomer. The right groomer can make all the difference in the experience your pet has. Since pet grooming is a service you will need on a continuing basis, finding the perfect fit for you and your pet is important.


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With so many similarly-pitched idol competitions premiering at the same time, I fear the onset of k-pop survival series fatigue. And by releasing their theme song last out of the group, MIXNINE's Just Dance (선공개) feels way too familiar in both inspiration and execution. But the song was co-composed by producer Teddy, who has long been a reliable creator of top tier k-pop material. Even working within the narrow confines that these kind of tracks demand, he manages to imbue Dance with enough excitement to make it another worthy addition to this growing sub-genre.
As the song kicks off, its funk-laced production promises great things to come. The sheer bigness of the percussion, paired with an engaging gurgle of electro-bass, provides the kind of audio smack in the face that compositions like these are built for. As with both The Unit and Produce 101, the vocals have been filtered to sound like dozens of performers even though there are really only two main voices driving the track. This arrangement strikes a solid balance between the need to sound immense and individual. Even so, I can't help but wonder how Just Dance would have turned out if given to a more traditional idol group who might have been able to bring a more interesting sense of personality to the relatively generic melody.
The first time through, Dance's lack of a proper chorus was a real turn-off. Like so many others before it, the track builds up such good will during its verses only to be sabotaged by a centerpiece that relies too heavily on familiar instrumental trends. But while I would have preferred a more fleshed out chorus, Dance's simple refrain still feels big enough to drive the song. I especially love the filtered "all night long I wanna dance" echo to the central hook. Its layered texture helps lend the track the kind of enormity it's seeking to create. Leave it to someone like Teddy to turn choices I despise into moments of pop bliss.