Hoodman Hoodloupe 3.0

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's a classic.

The Long Version: The Hoodman Hoodloupe, patent US 7,386,229 B2 and 7,034,877, was the first thing I thought about when I needed to use my D800's live view for manually focusing a lens when outdoors. And why not? It's been around forever – I remember seeing ads for it back in the days of actual print magazines, so it must be good to still be on the market.

The Hoodman Hoodloupe is very slightly misnamed: it is a hood, but loupes typically offer magnification, which the Hoodman doesn't. Instead it has a diopter correction eyepiece and sturdy sides that block out stray light, making the camera's LCD easier to see by cutting out glare and distractions. It is used like a loupe, however, being hand-held and moved into place each time it's needed.

The Hoodloupe is clearly an idea that predates the era of SLR cameras that capture video, and the mirrorless revolution that followed it. The need to see the camera LCD clearly in any light was once the exclusive difficulty of photographers using tripods and seeking critical sharpness as they leisurely take photos of churches and mountains. If that's all that it's asked to do then the Hoodloupe performs well, but there's a new generation of video-inspired LCD magnifiers out there that have surpassed it for all-around use.

The Hoodman does still have some advantages over most of the newer products on the market: it's well-built, simple, small, and comparatively inexpensive. Even today it would be a good choice for anyone making a pilgrimage to the great tripod-holes of the American midwest or west coast. If this is something that's on your bucket list then consider picking one up – mine's available for $40, tax and shipping included.

last updated 6 june 2014

Manfrotto MP3-D01 Pocket Series Tripod

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 0 out of 5
Yeah, but: Chant "don't buy, don't buy."

The Long Version: It's Manfrotto that calls the MP3-D01 a "Pocket DSLR Support" with a 1.5kg load capacity, not me. This flat plate with three independent legs is designed to stay attached to the bottom of a camera and simply unfurl when it's needed. It does fit a DSLR well enough – it's far too big for other cameras – but it certainly does not hold 1500 grams.

My D800 with the Sigma 35/1.4 should add up to 1555g, and the MP3 collapsed at the sight of it. Switching to the 60/2.8G lens brought the weight down to 1325 grams, and brought down the Manfrotto as well. It could mostly hold the camera with the 50/1.4G attached – 1180 grams – but I'd never rely on it for that task. In fact, my Joby Micro 800 – with a rated 800g capacity – did just as well at that level.

The MP3 has plenty of strength to hold little pocket cameras, but it's far too wide to be elegant. Manfrotto does explicitly say that it fits large cameras, so its unsuitability here shouldn't be a surprise, even though this is finally within its actual weight capacity.

So the only cameras that it really works with are the smaller ones with interchangeable lenses, as long as those lenses don't project below the camera body. My Nikon V1 works, even with the large 30-110mm lens, so that's a win.

Put another way, the non-musical MP3 is most suitable for cameras that have the memory card next to the battery, the door to which its broad breadth will almost certainly block.

The thinness of the MP3-D01 necessitates a thin and fiddly little attachment screw, which can be positioned in any of three slots to let the camera balance on it. This makes the tripod-thing awkward to remove and a nuisance to attach, but I suppose when a well-engineered product performs at this level some sacrifices must be made.

While I hardly ever actually use it this way, I have found one application that suits the little Manfrotto pocket tripod. It can hold my audio recorder off of a table, angled upwards enough to be useful, and doesn't block any ports or the battery door in the process. In this case its thinness really does let it stay attached to the recorder when it's in use or being carried, just like the promo material says it should.

The slightly thinner profile of the Manfrotto MP3 is its only advantage over the Joby Micro 800 that I usually use. The Joby is simply better in every other way, whether using it to support the camera or while using the camera with the support folded away. More elegant design, easier to attach, easier to use, less likely to obstruct battery doors, no little screw to lose, and significantly cheaper as well: at the time of writing, B+H has the Joby Micro 800 for $20 versus the MP3 for $35.

Seriously. Buy the Joby instead.

last updated 17 nov 2013

The Canon T5i Rebel

Concept: 1 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Canon T5i Rebel don't care.

Counter Opinion: This is the Canon T5i Rebel. Watch it run in slow motion. It's pretty bad-ass.

Look, it runs all over the place. "Woah, watch out!" says that Pentax. Ew it's got a Nikon? Oh, it's chasing a Sony? Oh my gosh! Oh the Canon T5i Rebels are just flippy!

The Canon T5i Rebel's been referred to by the Guinness Book of World Records as the most fearless camera in all the camera kingdom. It really doesn't give a shit. If it's hungry, it's hungry – ew what's that in its mouth? Oh it's got a Nikon? Oh it runs backwards? Now watch this, look, a Nikon's up in a tree. Canon T5i Rebel don't care. Canon T5i Rebel don't give a shit, it just takes what it wants. Whenever it's hungry it just – ew! And it eats Nikons?

Oh my God watch it dig. Look at that digging. The Canon T5i Rebel's really pretty bad-ass. They have no regard for any other camera whatsoever. Look at him just grunting and – ew! Eating Nikons! Ew what's that, a Fujifilm? Oh that's nasty. Oh, they're so nasty! Oo look! It's chasing things, and eating them.

The Canon T5i Rebels have a fairly long body, but a distinctly thick set, broad shoulders, and you know, their, their skin is loose, allowing them to move about freely, they twist around. Now look, here's a house full of Panasonics. You think the Canon T5i Rebel cares? It doesn't give a shit. It goes right into the house of Panasonics to get some Olympus.

How disgusting is that? It eats Olympus. Ew, that's so nasty.

But look, the Canon T5i Rebel doesn't care, it's getting stung like a thousand times. It doesn't give a shit, it just, it's hungry. It doesn't care about being stung by Panasonics. Nothing can stop the Canon T5i Rebel when it's hungry.

Oh what a nasty fuck! Look! Ew, it's eating Olympus, that's disgusting. There it is running in slow motion again. See?

Now what's interesting is that other, other cameras like these Pentax here, they just like to wait around until the Canon T5i Rebel's done eating and then it swoops in to pick up the scraps. It says, "You do all the work for us Canon T5i Rebel and we'll just eat whatever you find, how's that? What do you say, stupid?"

Look at this Pentax. "Thanks for the treat, stupid!" "Hey, come back here" says the Canon T5i Rebel. Pentaxes don't care, and you know what, the Sonys do it, too. Look at these little Cybershots. They're like, "Thanks, Stupid! Thanks for the Fujifilm! See ya later!" The Canon T5i Rebel does all the work while these other cameras just pick up the scraps.

At night time, the Canon T5i Rebel goes hunting, cuz it's hungry. Look! Here comes a fierce battle between a Nikon and a Canon T5i Rebel. I wonder what will happen? Look at this, there's the Canon T5i Rebel just eating a Fujifilm. And then look. "Get away from me!" says the Nikon, "Get away from me!"

Canon T5i Rebel don't care. Canon T5i Rebel smacks the shit out of it. The Nikon comes back and it lashes right at the Canon T5i Rebel. Oh! Little does the Canon T5i Rebel know, FYI, it's been stung! It's been bitten by the Nikon, so while it's eating the Nikon – ew, that's disgusting – meanwhile the poisonous venom is seeping through the Canon T5i Rebel's body, and it passes out.

Look at that sleepy fuck.

Now the Canon T5i Rebel's just gonna pass out for a few minutes and then it's gonna get right back up and start eating all over again, cuz it's a hungry little bastard. Look at this! Like nothing happened, the Canon T5i Rebel gets right back up and continues eating the Nikon! How disgusting. And of course, what does a Canon T5i Rebel have to eat for the next few weeks? Nikon.

The Canon T5i Rebel.

Counter Opinions are quick "sales counter" product reviews.

As always, viewer discretion is advised.

Last updated 22 apr 2013

Buffalo Bus Station

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: A bus station without amenities is a curb.

The Long Version: While I'm far from being a world traveller, I have developed a certain appreciation for bus stations. I've been through the one in Buffalo, New York, on several occasions, and I was recently lucky enough to spend four hours in it during the middle of the night. Writing a review seemed like the only sensible course of action.

Bus stations require certain amenities. First of all, there needs to be a comfortable place to wait. It needs adequate restrooms, some food options, and a place to buy traveller's necessities. All of this should be prominent and close to where the buses load and unload – ideally, within sight of the platforms. It needs to have good wayfinding and information, be clean and welcoming, and be kept in good repair. Buffalo actually manages to do much of this reasonably well, despite fundamentally being a bus station.

Buffalo's bus station – officially the Buffalo Metropolitan Transportation Center – seems to have been designed by someone who's really fond of international airports, because the seating is arranged in rows with enough space to stack weeks' worth of luggage between them. And the generous open space has no bearing on where the doors are for the bus platforms, which might have made sense, leaving the whole result oddly off-scale for the people within it.

With chairs set only the middle of the hall, Buffalo doesn't have any seating for people who prefer to have their backs to something solid. This might make it easy for the station's police to keep an eye on everyone, and discourage certain elements of local commerce from setting up shop, but it's a tough spot to be in. I wouldn't consider listening to music through my earphones in this layout – it would be far too easy for someone to come up to be from behind while I'm unaware. I hate surprises.

The bus platforms are signed according to carrier, but if you want to know where to wait for the Greyhound to Toronto or New York you'll need to ask the helpful attendant. And then the bus might still need to pull in somewhere else – such is life. At least the station designers realized that the weather in Buffalo isn't always pleasant, and the waiting area is indoors with double doors to keep the wind out. If only it was always like this.

Food options are a mixed success. Vending machines provide the most reliable service, and there's a change machine located in a completely different part of the building for people who don't have those archaic dollar bills. There's also a small take-out operation, quite literally a hole in the wall, that provides food that's not robust enough to be dispensed by robot. I didn't see hours posted for it; it was open past 3am when I was there most recently, although when I've passed through on other nights it has been closed. Finally, there's a small restaurant-like operation that's occasionally open – with different hours each day of the week – that I've never been lucky enough to experience.

There's nothing resembling a convenience store, magazine stand, or drug store for any other necessities. There are a few power outlets scattered around that people were able to use to recharge various devices, though, which is always nice to have. They're not conveniently located for travellers, having been intended for power-washers and floor polishers, but at least they aren't kept locked up.

The restrooms in the Buffalo station are another level of experience. Prominent and close to the platforms they solve two problems, and the mens' is able to accomodate quite the crowd if it needs to. But its barrier-free walk-in intentions must not have taken sight lines into account, because the entrance has been retrofitted with an oversized stall door. From the interior it blends into the wall of stainless steel doors, making it into a lobster trap for the tired, disorientated, or intoxicated.

To add to the ambiance, instead of having a sign marked "EXIT" this concealed door simply says "PULL". Yes, pull. It doesn't have two-way hinges, and being one of the few patrons to understand what the sinks were there for, getting through this door is not an appealing prospect. I'd hook it open with my boot, or hope for someone else to swing it open, and use my elbow to defend myself from it.

The bus station also houses the city transit bus, running under the NFTA banner. It took me a while to find out what that stands for: Niagara Frontier Transit Authority. I hadn't realized that Niagara is still a frontier, and haven't heard that term used to describe a civilized border in years, but I suppose it fits. Indeed, I did go from the pinnacle of Canadian urban sophistication to the American hinterland in less than two hours.

But the NFTA name struck me for a different reason. After all, this is Buffalo the City, named after Buffalo the Animal, which has a particularly brutal and genocidal history on the western frontier. I wouldn't expect them to want to remind people of that, but I've been wrong before.

Another interesting Buffalo experience was to have an armed agent of the government approach me and ask to see my papers. Politely, of course, and when I said that I was returning to Canada he lost interest, but this has happened before when I travel by bus, and I always take offense. It seems a little odd that these blanket stop-and-question episodes don't raise the hackles of the live-free-or-die crowd, but I have to wonder how much of a difference it makes that it's immigration enforcement doing the work. Another happy thought.

Being a border town, Buffalo sees a fair bit of traffic as a waypoint, but not much use as a terminal. That's a bit of a pity, because the station is well-situated in downtown Buffalo, and that's an area that could really blossom with more tourist and commercial activity.

A bus station without amenities is called a curb. The Buffalo station is functional if unwelcoming, capable of handing high volumes of stopover passengers but without the deeper considerations that would make long layovers more bearable. Long-distance bus travel is always an arduous task, and the stations need to be very durable, making this a very tough bit of architecture to succeed at. Buffalo isn't as good as Chicago, Syracuse, or New York; I'd say that it's about on par with Detroit. But it's vastly better than the Toronto Coach Terminal, which happens to be my home station.

last updated 12 oct 2012

Nikon L37c UV Filter

Concept: 1 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: If it makes no difference then it doesn't matter.

The Long Version: I'm generally known for only having mild and ambiguous opinions, so I should say up front that I don't agree with the premise of using "protective" clear or UV filters. But I know that some photographers swear by them, so I decided to run some tests on an old Nikon L37c filter that I had lying around. It was included with a second-hand lens, so I don't know its history, but it cleaned up nicely and was in perfect condition. I'd consider this to be a medium-to-high-quality filter, with a green reflection from its coatings.

So I broke out the gear and tested this 62mm UV filter for sharpness. The camera was on the wooden Berlebach tripod that normally holds my GX680, and I set up my target on a lighter basalt tripod. Everything was squared and levelled, with the target clamped to a right-angle Manfrotto quick release plate.

The resolution target is my usual subject: a $20 bill. These have lots of fine printing and detail, and although they may not be as definitive as an officially sanctioned resolution charts, they're a lot cheaper and I'm just comparing the results by eye. To keep it flat it's securely taped to a section of marble floor tile. Since I wanted maximum detail, I used a Nikon 60/2.8G Micro lens, kept it at about 1:2, resolution and filled the frame.

I went through a number of different variations. I used Live View to focus, I used the focusing rails with zoomed-LCD manual focus, took three exposures at each setting, used mirror lock up and a cable release, and so on.

The filter made no difference.

I couldn't tell if the filter was on the lens or not just from looking at the results. I knew from the file name and sequence, but that was all.

Now, as I said earlier, this Nikon is a decent and multicoated filter. Just the same, I was quite pleased to see no drop in sharpness in this little trial. Perhaps there's a difference that test-lab gear would be able to detect, but I'm not worrying about that too much.

The second test was for flare and ghosting. I attached an LED flashlight to the target tripod and pointed it directly at the lens. The focus is on the black bar that's in front of the light, and the lens is at f/8 – that nine-bladed circular aperture thing really works. It's also worth noting that I use the D800's cropped DX mode for the sharpness test, since I only cared about the centre, but switched back to full-frame for the flare results.

This flashlight has an inset bulb, but no lens or reflector to blur the source.

Here are the results without the filter:

And here's the same setup, with the filter:

Similar images, and both are bad, but the one with the filter is worse. (Larger: with, without.) What I notice is that the starburst around the flashlight is stronger, there's an extra reflection on the lower-right (in front of the tripod) from the additional surface, there's a halo running around the lower-left corner, and some additional flare/ghosting visible in front of the bar that's about 15cm in front of the light.

I also checked for flare with off-axis light hitting the front of the lens. I switched to a brighter flashlight and flagged it to make sure that it didn't light my test scene. Here's what the setup looked like:

And here are the results, first with the flashlight off:

(larger)

Bare lens, no hood:

(larger)

Lens with filter, no hood:

(larger)

So here the difference matters a little more – it went from bad to worse, rather than very bad to very very bad. But I also tried a comparison with the hood on, which shaded the lens like this:

And the results, with the filter and hood both on, looked like this:

(larger)

To my eye the results are indistinguishable from the photos where the light was off. I'm pretty impressed – I knew that shading the front of the lens would help immensely, but I still expected to see some additional ghosting from light hitting the inside of the hood. The 60/2.8G has pretty good coatings, but it lacks the extra crushed-velvet lining that can be found on the inside of the more deluxe hoods.

So after an interesting afternoon, I can say that this filter had no visible effect on sharpness, and while it made flare and ghosting worse, it only did it under conditions that the lens was already producing enough to be objectionable. I imagine that better filters would have less flare, and may test that with my bigger B+W MRC filter some day, but I can't see any difference mattering very much if the lens itself shows as much flare as this one has.

And no, I haven't changed my outlook on 'protective' filters, because my argument is simply that the 'protection' that they provide is illusionary and unnecessary. I'm glad that I know a little more about them for people who do want to use them, and see no harm in it if it makes people feel better. But I do know that I'll advocate for proper lens hoods more strongly than I used to.

last updated 24 august 2012

D-Rings

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 0 out of 5
Yeah, but: No review subject too small…

The Long Version: This is a review that probably could have been shortened down to under 140 characters, but I need to rant: WTF is with the D-Rings, bag designers?

I bought a cheap portfolio case the other day, and sure enough, the shoulder strap is attached to the body of the case with nylon D-rings. Within minutes of actually using the thing, the D-rings are twisted sideways and pinching the nylon webbing. I've seen this over and over again, from bags that cost enough that this kind of foolishness shouldn't be tolerated. It's not like these things are a recent innovation – why do designers and manufacturers still insist on using them so badly?

There is another question: why do people still buy anything that uses them? Frequently I forget that I'm supposed to be performing quality control on products that have made it all the way to market, and often there simply aren't any options out there. But give me a round ring to attach straps and handles, a sensible buckle, or even a D-ring that's been properly secured, and I'll buy it instead. Surely, this can't be all that difficult a problem to solve.

last updated 26 feb 2012

Eton Scorpion Weather Radio

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 0 out of 5
Yeah, but: Beware the sheep in wolf's clothing.

The Long Version: The Eton Scorpion is a great gadget-lust device. It's a battery-operated radio that's charged by a dynamo crank and/or solar cell, receives AM, FM, and NOAA Weather Band frequencies, has a built-in 3-LED flashlight, and can charge a cell phone. The body has a rubber exterior with a built-in carabiner clip; it even has a name that could equally apply to a sports team or a weapon. The promise of a dependable and rugged device persuaded me to upgrade from a similarly-featured model that looked less like a Hummer, and perhaps fittingly my extra money was blown.

Eton, in a love-affair with capitalized letters, calls the Scorpion a "Multi-Purpose Solar Powered Digital Weather Radio, Compact and Power Packed For Extreme Conditions". It's an impressive string of words, but unfortunately its link to reality becomes more and more tenuous as it goes on. If they had just stopped at the comma, everything could have been okay. Almost. A 'Digital Radio' is actually something completely different from an analog radio with a digital tuner, which is what the Scorpion is, But Perhaps Eton Decided That an Accurate Product Description Would Have Made The List Of Attributes Too Wordy and Awkward to Read.

One of the first things that I found inside the package (pdf) was the warning to not to expose the unit to rain, moisture, or high humidity. So much for extreme conditions, unless they just meant extremely bright sun without exceeding the safe operating temperature of 40 degrees. It's impossible to know just how seriously these warnings need to be taken without risking the radio's destruction, so I don't know how much is because of a genuine weakness in this rubberized receiver, and how much of it is just Eton making certain that they're never liable for any failure of the product that bears their name. Frankly, either scenario is disappointing.

If the manufacturer's level of confidence is accurate, then the idea of clipping this to the back of a pack and forgetting about it is a very bad one. Of course, both the ten-ounce weight and built-in bottle opener suggest that this is more of a car-campers' toy than a serious back-country survival tool, unless the backpackers who use titanium sporks are also known to carry emergency energy supplements in heavy glass bottles.

The second-last claim that Eton makes is also suspect. Calling this radio "power packed" seems to suggest something other than the 3.6v shrink-wrapped battery that it contains. Consisting of three NiMH 2/3AAA cells, the battery is marked 350mAh, but that would be the capacity of each individual cell for 1050mAh total. Shown with a real battery for scale – AA, 1.2v, 2000mAh – I can't even begin to say how much I wish that this radio could simply take a few common-as-dirt rechargeable batteries and build in the same crank-powered charging circuitry.

Moving on to the main feature, the radio, the Scorpion manages decent reception and reasonable sound quality from its little speaker. Cranking for two solid minutes, averaging about 100rpm, yielded 15 minutes of reception at a modest volume. I don't have nearly enough sunlight in my north-facing and northern-latitude apartment to derive any benefit from the solar cell, so the crank is my only option. To its credit, the handle is large and easy to use, and the noise the dynamo makes is actually somewhat soothing.

Another feature of the Scorpion is that it can be used to power external devices that charge via USB. Five minutes of cranking let me play my iPod Shuffle for fifteen minutes, so if the power's out and I really need to hear a particular song then the Scorp will come in handy. A cable with two 3.5mm headphone jacks would have let me play it through the radio's speaker, but I'm simply not enough of a masochist to try it out for the sake of this review. Assuming that the radio and speaker-only run times are about the same, that means about two minutes of audio for every minute spent charging the different devices. My arm feels tired just thinking about it.

One charming feature of the Scorpion is the way it combines digital controls with the lack of any secondary battery to let it remember its settings. Don't bother setting the clock, because it won't last, and the digital tuner will earn its keep each time the radio needs to find the station that it was on when the little battery last died. The device does have a charge level indicator on its small monochrome LCD, but don't trust it when cranking the battery. It reports that it's full even when the radio would only play for a few moments.

The built-in flashlight must be great to have in a dire emergency, because it's only in times of desperation or extreme laziness that I would actually use it. Yes, I have seven different torches of various sizes and power levels within easy reach as I type this, not including the Scorpion, but that's still not the point. Even if I was a normal person with just a generic plastic hardware-store light in the junk drawer, I would still make sure that I had something better than the Scorpion on-hand if I knew that I would be needing a flashlight.

The Scorp throws a broad hot spot that's dominated by a bright ring, with weak spill that's mostly provided by the side LEDs. In quick brightness comparisons, it's a bit stronger than an average 1.5v light like my Gerber Infinity or my Leatherman Serac S2 on 'low' power. The S2 on 'high' smokes it, and that light's about the size of a cigarette; a more serious but still 1xAA battery torch like my Zebralight is completely out of the Scorpion's league. Yes, it can be said that it's better to have a light built in than to have to carry a second something, but dedicated flashlights that are better than the Scorpion are cheap, plentiful, and not very large. Most of them are also considerably more waterproof.

But I bought the Scorpion for times of desperation. The northeast blackout was only eight years ago, and it had been bothering me that I didn't have a battery-powered radio in the house. In event of an emergency, with no electricity and internet access, what else could I do for information? Use the radio in Penny's iPod Nano with one of the small battery-powered speakers that I have kicking around? Talk to the neighbours? Light the entire house with my myriad flashlights and the thirty-eight low-discharge AA batteries that I can think of off the top of my head, even without counting the ones that are already installed in those same flashlights?

So I probably could have just saved the fifty bucks that the Scorpion cost, since it's hardly something that I couldn't live without. I would certainly buy a cheaper "less rugged" design with an analog tuner if I could do it over again. It is nice to have a weather-band radio in the house, and as something that I'll almost certainly never actually need the Eton Scorpion is almost certainly up to the task. And who knows? If I'm ever really truly desperate, it could be nice to have.

last updated 3 oct 2011

Quick Look: Nikon ME-1 Microphone

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: It introduces a good idea.

The Long Version: The Nikon ME-1 microphone is a cute little thing, complete with a foam wind sock and a gold-plated right-angle mini-jack connection. It draws its power from the camera, and it's cheap. It's quite promising on paper, and I wasted no time in trying one out. I've only spent a few minutes with it so far, but I was able to make a few observations.

Microphones are like lenses: they do different things and they cost different amounts. The ME-1 is the 'kit lens' of mics, being better than the built-in type that it supersedes, and can give decent results when used in the right circumstances. But with that out of the way, I have to say that the ME-1 is a disappointment.

Nikon's website says that the ME-1's pick-up pattern is "unidirectional", but testing the microphone through my Sony PCM-D50 shows strong pickup from every direction, including behind. Despite its suggestive shape, the ME-1 is no shotgun, with off-axis sensitivity being greater than my D50 when its microphones are in the classic XY stereo configuration. Its lack of selectivity must be why Nikon will only say that it will "significantly reduce autofocus noise" – not eliminate it.

The other big advantage of having an external microphone is its isolation from handling noise. Here again the ME-1 disappoints, as it still caught every time I shifted my grip on the D7000. (As with the stereo test, the mic was plugged into my Sony D50 field recorder, which lets me monitor the sound in real time. The cameras themselves don't allow this level of self-awareness.) This is quite a bit more objectionable than its failure to reject off-axis sound, and will have a bigger impact on the audio recording.

So the question is: why buy an inexpensive microphone that doesn't focus the audio pickup where the lens is looking, and doesn't get rid of handling noise? I'm not sure I have the answer to that one. The ME-1 is a big improvement in the quality of the audio, even if it doesn't fix the nature of it. When sitting on a tripod with the lens focused on one spot it will do much better for recording interviews, even though it would mostly capture crowd noise at the school play or big game. But then nobody expects a kit lens to do everything – well, some do – so it should be little surprise than an inexpensive microphone isn't the equivalent of a professional lens. Good mics cost more for a good reason.

last updated 18 may 2011

NBC Studio Tour @ 30 Rockefeller Plaza

Concept:  2 out of 5
Execution:  1 out of 5
Yeah, but:  Spotting NBC talent is rare, but not impossible!

The Long Version: When the ticket-taker said "wait there" and waved indistinctly down a hallway that curved out of sight, I should have realized that we were in trouble. True, disinterested and unhelpful people abound in New York in general, and its service/tourist industry in particular, but I shouldn't have been so jaded that I missed the warning signs. So perhaps in some way I'm responsible for what came later, but even while standing unattended behind a rope I still didn't see it coming. What happened next was the NBC Studio Tour, and yes, the fact that I can't link into its website in a way that avoids the animated intro should be yet another warning. But it's too late now, so let's proceed.

The NBC tour at 30 Rockefeller Plaza starts with the tour group shuffling into a small auditorium to watch a promotional video. While inside, we're told of the many upcoming delights of our visit - like no bathrooms, anywhere inside the NBC complex - and are sternly admonished to turn off our cell phones. "Not vibrate, not silent, not airplane mode: OFF." There's also Strictly No Photography, because everything we're about to see is "highly copyrighted". (That's the exact phrase that appears in their FAQ web page, which I can't link to.) I wasn't aware that copyright comes in different levels, but since NBC was recently fined millions of dollars for pirating someone else's intellectual property, maybe they know what they're talking about. Or perhaps, like some other image-based companies, they think that adding a superlative to the correct term will impress people.

With fifteen minutes of our hour-long tour now past, we were marshaled into a long queue for our security screening. Blogger Bob himself would be proud of its combination of intrusiveness and unpleasantness; if anything, the TSA screeners are more friendly and personable. The studio prohibits anything that the FAA won't allow on an aircraft, so forget about bringing that toner cartridge, but they also ban children under the age of six "for security reasons." I never realized that a preschooler could actually be used as a weapon, which must have some pretty serious ramifications for Disneyland.

Once cleared through security, the next challenge was the elevators. Our sizable group used two of them, which explained the two tour guides, and this was by far the most crowded I'd felt in the entire visit to New York. On the positive side, doing head counts and trying to squeeze everyone in provided the biggest spark of genuine enthusiasm that I saw from our guides throughout the tour. I don't know if this is because there's a betting pool going on in the staff room, or if there's a precedent of people sneaking off - I wasn't inclined to ask, and both options seem plausible.

The tour doesn't follow any established route, so it's impossible to say where it goes next. As the unlinkable FAQ points out, the building is "a very active working environment", so the tour is sent to whatever area has the least likelihood of having anything interesting happening. Not surprisingly, that turned out to be the stage for Saturday Night Live. More specifically, it turned out to be the glassed-in corridor above the bleachers for the live studio audience - but at least the hall was lined with photos, so there was a chance of seeing a publicity photo of someone famous as we hustled past. This explains why that wonderful FAQ page says that "spotting NBC talent is rare but not impossible" - although I doubt that they meant it as a double entendre.

Back through the elevators again and we're rewarded by being able to look through the glass of a dimmed control room, get shown an outdated video loop about makeup for SNL, and then the tour concludes with an audience-participation exercise involving a mock broadcast and some painful moments with a teleprompter and green-screen. There's also the mandatory souvenir prom-photo moment, with prints and DVDs available for purchase at the end of the tour.

We both felt a little stunned as we walked away from the NBC Studio Experience. I was certainly thinking it, but Penny was the first to say it out loud: "Thank Gosh for the New York Pass." That's the flat-rate tourist pass that we were using to see the city, and it meant that we hadn't actually handed over $20 - each - for the tour. I still think about all of the other things we could have done with the time, but at least that's all we were burned for.

But who knows? Maybe other people loved it; maybe it's the perfect moment for someone out there somewhere. Just because it wasn't right for me, and just because I can't conceive of who would really find this tour worth its time and expense doesn't mean that it couldn't happen. If this sounds like you, then please, please, please add a comment to say so. And never let it be said that I'm not an optimist.

last updated 29 dec 2010

Wendy's "Natural" Fries

Concept:  2 out of 5
Execution:  1 out of 5
Yeah, but:  Even I can't believe I'm reviewing a potato.


The Long Version: Fast-food burger restaurant Wendy's launched their New And Improved french fries almost a month ago in Canada. For those who aren't familiar with them, French Fries (aka "Freedom Fries" for my American readers) are narrow strips of a nutritionally deficient beige root vegetable that has been turned into candy by cooking it in one of the least healthy ways possible. So right off the bat, Wendy's efforts to attach connotations of wholesomeness by calling their new product "natural" is problematic at best.

So what's the difference between "natural" fries and the ones that they've served for the previous four decades? They're not peeled, and they use sea salt. Exciting times.

Wendy's previous favourite foodlike meal-filler were unremarkable but inoffensive; the new product has neither virtue. Thinner and stringy, they look like a 'grunge' version of the ones from McDonald's that go stone cold in the time it takes to eat a McNugget. The vaunted sea salt still has the same sandy table-salt texture, and there's far, far too much of it. A single 'medium' serving now contains one third of the RDA for sodium, up from a mere 23% for the old version.

From information gathered from their respective nutritional information web pages:

• Mcdonald's fries per 100g - 319 calories, 15g fat, 239mg sodium.
• Wendy's fries per 100g - 295 calories, 14g fat, 352mg sodium.

While french/freedom fries are never going to be healthy, Wendy's has moved in exactly the wrong direction on this. But even beyond the whole "real" and "natural" marketing spin, which is almost too absurd to be insulting, the results are bad. After three unsuccessful attempts to like them, I'm now actively avoiding Wendy's fries. Fortunately there are other foodlike fillers on their menu, but so far my solution has simply been to go elsewhere for lunch.

What can I say? For me, this is the straw that broke the Frosty's™ back.

last updated 6 dec 2010

Canon Powershot SX30 IS

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: A lot can change in a year.

The Long Version: I reviewed the SX20 almost exactly a year ago, and there are a few differences this time around. For one thing, I don't own the SX30, and I never will. I also don't own the SX20 any more, having sold it after getting the GH1 which is a superzoom done right. Of course, the SX30IS has the spiffy new 35x 24-840mm-e lens with an image-stabilization system that really does work, which will be the reason why people buy it. Maybe the rest won't matter.

The other big change from the SX20 is the battery. Gone are the four AA batteries, replaced by the same proprietary rechargeable batteries that are used in the G11/G12. The lens is also lighter, making for a camera with very different handling than the previous models. For most people this will be a good thing, good enough that they'll overlook the memory card moving back into the battery compartment. That's the way most compact cameras work, and even a bad design can benefit from the comfort of familiarity.

But man, is this camera ever ugly.

The hand grip is awkward, being simultaneously angular and hard to hold. The SX20 had a substantial grip, partly thanks to the jumbo battery compartment, but the SX30 is too small for my hands without the benefit of it being a diminutive camera. While Canon's SLR's have all been borrowing from the swoopy-slabby stealth-fighter aesthetic recently, this long-zoom plastic case looks like an F22 that's crashed into the ocean, been eaten by a shark, and pooped out the far end. The mode dial is dished out in a way that's unique to the SX30, and there's a red detailing to it that adds to its disco points. And just in case you forget what camera you own, the SX30 has added another branding location on top of the flash, facing backwards, so that there's no escaping this camera at all.

Someone once said that the best the best thing about driving a Pontiac Aztek is that you can't see the cars' exterior. That gives the automotive horror a real advantage over the Canon, because looking through the SX30IS is actually worse than looking at it. It has a mediocre-average 230K 2.8" LCD screen, and the worst electronic viewfinder I've seen in years.

Bad.

Really, really bad.

The rise of mirrorless cameras has created a renaissance for electronic viewfinders. People who swore they'd never use an EVF are coming around, and many cameras have genuinely good ones. This one is nowhere near the Panasonic m4/3 options, and is years behind what Sony has on their upcoming "SLT" A55 camera. In the SX30's own long-zoom class, the arch-rival Panasonic's viewfinder is considerably better than the SX30, and even the Nikon Coolpix P100, which is otherwise an uninspiring little machine, does better. Considering how important the EVF is for controlling and aiming long telephoto lenses, this is a huge problem. Adding additional humiliation, 2003-vintage Sony F828 has a visually larger viewfinder, and it even has 30,000 dots - 15% - more resolution than the 2010 Canon camera. It's appalling. I've never said this about anything before, but from an aesthetic and ergonomic point of view, I'd rather have a Sony Alpha A330. Even people who love Sony don't like that camera - the SX30's viewfinder really is that bad.

As far as the performance goes, there's not much to say. It's a Canon superzoom, so the image quality averages out to a decent but not outstanding result. The big deal is the lens, which is longer than anything else on the market (at the moment). This is something like having a talking dog - it really doesn't matter what it says, its mere existence is remarkable. I can also say that its image stabilization works very well, holding the picture very steady even when at the monstrously long zoom extension. The photo above, of the man with his hand in his pocket as he enters an 'adult entertainment' venue, was taken from the far side of the street and hasn't been cropped at all. The camera handles its primary task as well as anyone could ask, given its intended purpose and market. Those who are able to withstand their first encounter will probably be quite happy with it, or at least grudgingly accept its compromises. But whatever you do, don't even think about buying it without trying it first.

In the immortal words of Opus the Penguin: "Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but Lord, it wasn't good." Time could prove me wrong. Style is personal, and some say that taste can't be taught. But man, that viewfinder stinks.

Life Brand Folding Travel Toothbrush

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Something small and frail and plastic…

The Long Version: Travel toothbrushes are one of those things that inherently compromise function for convenience. Where they fold, whether it's through a hinge or from a two-piece design, is invariably going to be a weak point. Hopefully it won't be so weak that the brush will fold over backwards at the slightest provocation, or completely come apart at the feeble hinge the way this one does. It's also nice when the 'closed' position covers and protects the bristles, rather than leaving some of them splayed out to the side of the handle. This folding toothbrush, marketed under the Life Brand Essential's line by Shopper's Drug Mart, is simply the pits.

There's a reason why the two-piece style, where the brush head inverts and is stored in the hollow lower handle, is so common. It works. This one-piece folding design ranks right around 'better than nothing', so I'll probably leave it in my kit, but I'll be looking for a better one as well. On the other hand, given how easy it is to leave toothbrushes behind, maybe the two-for-one pack of disposable-quality plastic is exactly right. You pay your money and you make your choice.

Coca-Cola's Gold Cans - 2010 Edition

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Is it the thought that counts?

The Long Version: Coca-Cola, the American brand that dominates the soft-drink market of almost the entire world, loves to support the home team no matter where it is. To celebrate the 2010 Olympics, they issued a small number of gold cans. There wasn't much promotion that I saw, no ads or special markings on the cases, and I haven't seen them in the stores. The distinctive gold colour of these cans surprised everyone who saw them: "How old is that thing?" being the overwhelming response. They look like they've faded from been left in the sun too long.

The fine print on the cans reads "Congratulations Canadian Olympic Ice Hockey Team on Winning Gold!" It's a nice sentiment, so I know this will sound churlish, but my question is: Which one? As usually happens, both the Canadian hockey teams - Men's and Women's - won gold medals. So either they've missed the pluralization, or they missed an entire event. I hope it's just a grammatical issue, because otherwise someone's been snubbed, and I doubt it's the NHL players.

For what it's worth, 'Team Canada' also took twelve non-hockey gold medals, and I really don't think that team sports like hockey should be part of the Olympics in the first place. So perhaps I'm just snippy at a multi-billion-dollar corporation congratulating a select group of millionaires while neglecting the rest. Call it youngest-child syndrome. Even though these cans are listed on eBay for almost two dollars each, mine are gone and I have no regrets.

Lensbaby 3G (Olympus 4/3 Mount)

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: For Sale By Owner - $135, Cash only.

The Long Version: For sale is one Lensbaby 3G in Four-Thirds mount, which will fit all Olympus and Panasonic SLRs. Also included in the sale are all of the aperture disks, from f/2.8 to f/22; with no disk it's a fast f/2.0. I wrote the f/stop numbers on each disk, but new ones have it on them already. The lensbaby aperture changing tool has a magnetic tip and stores the disks under a retro film-canister lid. I'm also including the Heart and Star apertures from the Lensbaby Creative Apertures Kit, which add special effects on bright highlights. The CAK doesn't include a Unicorn aperture, but check eBay to see if anyone has made one.

Some people think the lensbaby is a waste of money, and that they can do the same effect in photoshop. But why waste your time and effort mimicking it when you could own the real deal? Save your creative energy for making new effects. Photos with bold saturation, vignetting, and inverted tone curves look awesome on Flickr and Photosig. It's a perfect diving board for going off the deep end. Not included in the sale is the little 'case' that originally came with the lens, but while the Baby is supposed to be stored in it, it was barely stronger than typical plastic packaging.

A lens that shifts and tilts isn't always a tilt-shift lens. The Lensbaby 3G is focused by squeezing and stretching it, and the 'sharp' portion is moved around the frame by wiggling the lens around. No matter how many people say it on the forums, this is not a tilt-shift lens. It can't change perspective or angle the plane of focus. It doesn't even have a normal plane of focus, it has a focus spot. Know what you're buying ahead of time to avoid disappointment.

The amount of blur is controlled by the aperture, with the smaller disks reducing the edge effects and increasing the depth of field. A film-sized sensor will include more of the edges and has less depth of field, so if you really want the full toy-camera look, you'll need a much more expensive Canon, Nikon, or Sony to make the most of it. The Olympus version for sale has a more moderate effect, which is at f/2.8 for these pictures. It's still not really possible to blend Lensbaby photos into a series shot with a typical lens.

The Lensbaby 3G is the older model that looks like it's wearing a neck brace. You can see it clearly in the photo that I took with my phone. It's most like the current 'Control Freak' model. There's a movable front part for the final focus control when the three braces have locked the bouncy part of the lens. The threads on the braces let the 'sweet spot' be moved around, but I've never quite gotten it to work. It takes a new way of thinking, but it can create some cool effects.

what the duck

I'm selling my Lensbaby 3G because I've barely used it in the last two years. It's a cool camera toy and can be fun, but it needs a more experimental creative type to really get into it. The 3G is the last one they made before they came up with the idea for the "Composer" model, which is the best one to get for an easier Lensbaby look. Its blur and focus control is better than the 3G, and it's also more robust and easier to carry. Since the Composer is so much better for $270, I'm asking only $165 for this barely-used 3G.

Cash and local sale only.

Spinning Tokens - The 2010 TTC Fare Increase

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: If only they'd done this before.

The Long Version: TTC tokens are great little things. Unlike the paper tickets that the Toronto Transit Commission phased out in 2008 (for adult fares), they don't get ruined if the go through the wash, they work in the automatic turnstiles that the TTC uses in all of its entrances, and they're more difficult to counterfeit - notwithstanding that the new bimetal design was introduced to get rid of five million fakes of the old aluminum design.

A TTC token has no face value - they're worth one ride, no matter how much that costs. The 2010 fare increase makes them the safest investment in town; their value is guaranteed to jump from $50 to $55 per troy ounce. According to information from the TTC, reprinted by the Globe and Mail newspaper: "Although there are about three million tokens in circulation, staff rely on about 400,000 tokens being recycled throughout the day in order to keep from running out." That means that there's only a seven or eight day supply in the system, and now people have a good reason to hang on to them. What could possibly go wrong?

The twenty-five cent fare increase was announced two months before it comes into effect, so it's no surprise that the TTC has had a surge in demand. They quickly - but not immediately - rationed token sales before eventually stopping them completely, which is the same thing they did the last time they increased the transit fares. But the TTC also has a corporate culture that emphasizes blaming their customers when things go wrong, which includes people actually using the transit system. The Toronto Star recently published an article "Hoarders Foiled as TTC Halts Token Sales" which is one of many articles that contains my favourite quote of the week: "TTC chair Adam Giambrone said the commission could have lost $5 million had it not suspended token sales."

Five MILLION Dollars! (and Curses, foiled again!)

To have their customers stockpiling tokens cost them five million dollars of lost revenue, then we would need to be holding on to every single token ever minted and have the fare increase by $1.67. Even the earlier unspecified loss of 'millions' in unearned revenue from customers buying their fares at a lower rate is implausible when the fare is only increasing by twenty-five cents. One million tokens, a third of the total in circulation, will increase in value by only $250,000 unless there's something seriously wrong with my math.

But token hoarding works both ways. The TTC is spending $50,000 to print temporary paper tickets that will only be valid for two months, and they'll need to be topped up by adding an extra 25¢ to the farebox each time they're used in January. The TTC won't be selling any more tokens until the fare increase comes into effect, which means that the TTC will also be hoarding tokens to its financial advantage. They'll make back the $50,000 investment - twenty-five cents at a time - by not selling a mere 200,000 tokens until after the price increase. By their own numbers, that's an average half-day's volume, and only one-fifteenth of the three million tokens in circulation.

More fun with numbers: inspired by information supplied by the TTC, the Globe and Mail writes in an article from November 22, "Ticket hoardings were costing the TTC an estimated $45,000 a day as frugal riders bought 20 per cent more tokens than they needed, stocking up in anticipation of the increase." [Note to the editors: Hoardings are temporary wooden fences. The correct phrasing should be 'Ticket hoarding was costing' - but I digress.]

A twenty percent increase on four hundred thousand is sales of an extra eighty thousand tokens a day, and at 25 cents each that's a potential loss of $20,000 - not quite half of the amount that the blame-the-riders movement is trying for. But even if the claim that the TTC makes of $45,000 a day is true, it's still less than half of what they'd need to reach their claimed loss of $5 million, even assuming that their losses started the day the fare increase was first proposed. And just for fun, let's remember that these costs are potential revenue that they won't get from the fare increase, which is valued at some $65 million dollars over the course of the year, and most of which will come from more expensive transit passes.

The TTC is using implausible numbers to villainize a huge number of its own customers, in what seems like a calculated effort to make themselves look like victims when people don't want to pay 10% more for the same intermittent-to-lousy service. This is nothing new, but it controls the discussion and intentionally directs it away from talk about how the system - transit and funding - is broken, and what can be done to fix it. Costs go up; the day-to-day and year-to-year fumbling of the status quo remains unchanged.

There's no question that the TTC is underfunded. There's also no question that the senior management hates its riders. Could those two things be related?