Sand, by Michael Welland

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: 'The Never-Ending Story'? Seriously?


The Long Version: Sand is a beautiful book: set in Adobe Garamond, it's on quality matte paper and is an easy size to hold, carry, and read. And it's a good thing, because the contents are fascinating.


Sand seems like a small subject, and hardly worth reading a 300-page book about. But Mr. Welland draws on an enormous breadth of material, from the formation of the Earth to our favourite of Saturn's moons, Titan. Mummification, milpatjunanyi, and the shape of Manhattan's skyline is all within the scope of the book. The text itself is extremely approachable; it reads with the appeal of a novel. I tend to gloss over figures like "1500x magnification", but when it's explained as "would make your thumbnail the size of a tennis court" it's a different impression altogether.

Sand is one of the books that has changed how I think about things. I'm now absolutely fascinated by sand. I can see differences between the sand from the shore of Lake Ontario and that from other nearby lakes. I can't pour anything granular without looking at how it sits and how it flows. I now keep little tubs of sand, and some of very small rocks, to use as props for product photography. And I never, ever, would have thought of pushing the magnification of my best macro lens to take photos of plain 'unremarkable' sand if I hadn't read this book.


When I travel to somewhere with beaches, I know I'll be taking a closer look, even if it means a special trip. Now that the city's locked in the grips of winter, I'll be taking the ferry to the Toronto Islands to visit Hanlan's Point, which is both the location of the only sand dunes near the city as well as our only clothing-optional beach. I may bring a camera, but really I'd just be going for the sake of going. While I'm currently re-reading Sand for only the first time, I know it won't be my last.

The only off note that the book hits is a prominent one: a bold, black, 'The Never-Ending Story' written on the front cover. The book would be cheapened by any subtitle: a simple "SAND" would be a powerful stroke of brevity, matching the deceptively diminutive subject. Having any subtitle feels like a publisher's attempt to increase the books' sales appeal, which is even more strikingly out of tune because otherwise Sand feels very well edited. But picking this specific subtitle is particularly painful, as it's already taken by an excellent book and a bad movie franchise. Michael Welland does mention the tale of Fantasia when discussing the 'world in a grain of sand' meme in popular culture, but that's still no excuse.


With the dust jacket removed, there's no reason for me not to recommend this book to anyone with a technical, scientific, or geological interests. It's not just for the arenophiles on your gift list. It's worth adding to your book-buying list for the next time you're trying to hit the free shipping threshold, or even looking for in your local library, should you have one. It's a deceptively fascinating book.


Sand- Amazon.com

Buying a Second Monitor

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's not the getting, it's the having.

The Long Version: I still remember when having a monochrome monitor that was green and yellow was the height of cool, and I still enjoy the computer games that I played on my Commodore 64 and Mac Classic. I'm hardly cutting edge; in fact, I'm of the "never too late to have a happy childhood" school. And in this case, I have a long-held envy of a friend's wicked-fast Mac IIfx that was running dual monitors. Yes, I know that my mid-2007 iMac with its 24" screen completely stomps that historical footnote, with power and pixels that are straight out of science fiction. I've still wanted a second monitor for many years.

I'd find myself standing in front of the displays in the happiest place on earth, trying to decide if I had enough room on my desk for a new toy. Invariably, I'd decide that I didn't know enough to make a good monitor choice, and would wander back to the flash drives and paper shredders. (Look for reviews of those soon as well.) The final straw was when I found some really good 'boxing day' deals on a local store's website. I started researching a few models, and that's where the trouble really started.

I'm a reasonably technical person. I know what Linux is, worked for a couple of IT companies, and enjoy finding highly complex solutions to simple problems. Within photography, I'm swimming in a sea of technical information, and even though much of it is meaningless and/or hype - Samsung calls the processor in its newest cameras "DRI Me II Pro", I kid you not - an abundance of information is out there. DPReview takes 27 pages to discuss the merits and shortcomings of the model bump of the model bump of the entry-level Nikon D40 - one of the most straightforward cameras on the market. People who think a lot about buying cameras truly did wring their hands over the Canon 50D dropping to 6.3 frames per second from the 6.6 of the 40D, and the image-quality ramifications of more megapixels. Photographic technophiles could even make the overclocking quake-benchmark-addicted slashdotter shout: "17'5 1RR3L3\/4|\|7, dUD35!". Eris knows I've come close to losing it a time or two myself.

Shopping for an LCD monitor was like hitting a wall, except that the wall is solid, impenetrable NOTHING.

Forget about trying to learn the differences between TN, IPS, and PVA technologies. The manufacturers websites wouldn't even tell me if the panels were glossy or matte. I abandoned one possible purchase after fifteen minutes of hunting for information because of a minor aside in a user review. It mentioned that not only was the height not adjustable, the panel didn't even tilt. Isn't that worth mentioning on the products' web page? It should probably be right under the note: "May Not Be Suitable For Normal Use". Perhaps my frustration is because I was mostly looking at Samsung, as I have found more useful manufacturers, but it should never have been this difficult. The best source of information, virtually by default, were the single-paragraph "I bought it and it's the most awesome / it broke and sucks in every possible way" tragicomedy of aggregated user reviews. Trying to find a decent screen was the most frustrating thing I've done since choosing a cell phone plan.

I did eventually find an affordable matte-screen PVA monitor that tilts and swivels. (Model "F2380".) Its image quality, in terms of sharpness, contrast, and nuance, isn't a match my iMac; and I've yet to be able to calibrate it to get rid of a cool shift to its mid-tones. I actually expected that last part because of something I read somewhere, and partially expected the other attributes because of my price range. The aesthetic of the display is greatly improved by some black electrical tape to get rid of a cosmetic light that flashes obnoxiously when there's no input signal. And maybe it's just me, but for some reason it doesn't use a half-inch of its screen when it's horizontal, but uses it all when it's vertical. Such is life. At least it tilts.

Since it's not good enough to be my reference screen, I've discovered that I prefer it set vertically. It takes up less room on my desk, which is no small mercy, but it's also a useful way to work. For Lightroom, I typically keep the second screen in Grid view, which speeds my sorting and ranking immeasurably. In Survey mode (top photo) it gives jumbo previews of two horizontal images, and in Loupe mode it lets me see a vertical image in all its glory. For Final Cut, it lets me mix ten stereo audio tracks in the timeline viewer without reducing the other windows to nothing (second photo), and the custom configurations can be quickly flipped to put the Viewer in the main window and still have lots of room to work. Even Spaceward Ho!, which I first played on a 9" screen, benefits from the tall arrangement. After only a week, I know I'd suffer if I had to give it up.

Mac IIfx, eat your heart out.

Starfrit Can Crusher

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: I can just see it screwed to one of the bare studs in a garage.

The Long Version: Starfrit is a Canadian company that's making its way into the American market, one infomercial at a time. They're the bilingual force behind battery-powered potato peelers, push-choppers, and folding cutting boards. If it has "as seen on TV" on it, there's a good chance that you'll find in on their website. It's not guaranteed, of course, and I can't find the can crusher at all. Rather anticlimactic after this big introduction.

The can crusher is designed to flatten beverage cans, and does so admirably. Its construction is solid, with a soft foam handle topping a lever that delivers plenty of power. I'm a little tentative applying force to mine, since it's attached to a cupboard door with double-sided tape instead of (the included) screws. But even with that hesitation, it does the job. My only addition has been a couple of rubber bands that I've wrapped around the base to hold the cans in place as they await their fate. Traction, you know.

There is a question about why anyone would want this particular job done. Without reenacting the Frantics' 'Worshipers R Us' scene (again), it's something to have just because it's there. It's fun to use, and the crushed cans do take up less space in the recycling bin. Crushing them by hand isn't as effective or as entertaining. It even includes a built-in bottle opener, just in case there are ever any bottles that don't have screw-tops. I wouldn't recommend running them through the crusher when you're done, though.