Archive for the ‘Rambles’ Category

Happy New Year!

Sunday, December 31st, 2017

Happy New Year!  Quiet Holiday’s.  Looking forward to a new year and trying to blog more and document things on this little personal blog.  Happy New Year!  – jsdoit

Making | Minimalism | The Film

Monday, May 8th, 2017


what a wonderful little doc.  simple and powerful.  i found Matt who directed and filmed it inspiring how he tackled this project.  he created a little series about the film and i wanted to share it.

the film is on netflix so please get a chance to share it.  they visited Toronto for a special little screening.


you can view the trailer and watch the little segments about the making of the film.


Falling In Love In Six Acts

Sunday, February 5th, 2017


In the summer of 1993… Nike had this pull out in women’s magazines.  This one was in Vanity Fair and I was reading it in Karen’s room and I remember I ripped out the pages.  I remember many women loved this spread.  I’m always an ekin.  It’s one of the most effective ads geared towards women.  It was a 12 page ad… which was wild.

At the bottom is a man reading it all in the YouTube vid.







Wired Writer Evan Ratliff Tried to Vanish: Here’s What Happened

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2016



This story is about a 40min read.  I would highly recommend reading it here with photos and video.  This story is one that I’m always sharing and wondering how impossible it would be to fall off the grid. 

August 13, 6:40 PM: I’m driving East out of San Francisco on I-80, fleeing my life under the cover of dusk. Having come to the interstate by a circuitous route, full of quick turns and double backs, I’m reasonably sure that no one is following me. I keep checking the rearview mirror anyway. From this point on, there’s no such thing as sure. Being too sure will get me caught.


I had intended to flee in broad daylight, but when you are going on the lam, there are a surprising number of last-minute errands to run. This morning, I picked up a set of professionally designed business cards for my fake company under my fake name, James Donald Gatz. I drove to a Best Buy, where I bought two prepaid cell phones with cash and then put a USB cord on my credit card — an arbitrary dollar amount I hoped would confuse investigators, who would scan my bill and wonder what gadgetry I had purchased. An oil change for my car was another head fake. Who would think that a guy about to sell his car would spend $60 at Oil Can Henry’s?

I already owned a couple of prepaid phones; I left one of the new ones with my girlfriend and mailed the other to my parents — giving them an untraceable way to contact me in emergencies. I bought some Just for Men beard-and-mustache dye at a drugstore. My final stop was the bank, to draw a $477 cashier’s check. It’s payment for rent on an anonymous office in Las Vegas, which is where I need to deliver the check by midday tomorrow.

Crossing the Bay Bridge, I glance back for a last nostalgic glimpse of the skyline. Then I reach over, slide the back cover off my cell phone, and pop out the battery. A cell phone with a battery inside is a cell phone that’s trackable.

About 25 minutes later, as the California Department of Transportation database will record, my green 1999 Honda Civic, California plates 4MUN509, passes through the tollbooth on the far side of the Carquinez Bridge, setting off the FasTrak toll device, and continues east toward Lake Tahoe.

What the digital trail will not reflect is that a few miles past the bridge I pull off the road, detach the FasTrak, and stuff it into the duffle bag in my trunk, where its signal can’t be detected. Nor will it note that I then double back on rural roads to I-5 and drive south through the night, cutting east at Bakersfield. There will be no digital record that at 4 am I hit Primm, Nevada, a sad little gambling town about 40 minutes from Vegas, where $15 cash gets me a room with a view of a gravel pile.

“Author Evan Ratliff Is on the Lam. Locate Him and Win $5,000.”
—, August 14, 2009 5:38 pm

Officially it will be another 24 hours before the manhunt begins. That’s when Wired‘s announcement of my disappearance will be posted online. It coincides with the arrival on newsstands of the September issue of the magazine, which contains a page of mugshot-like photos of me, eyes slightly vacant. The premise is simple: I will try to vanish for a month and start over under a new identity.Wired readers, or whoever else happens upon the chase, will try to find me.

The idea for the contest started with a series of questions, foremost among them: How hard is it to vanish in the digital age? Long fascinated by stories of faked deaths, sudden disappearances, and cat-and-mouse games between investigators and fugitives, I signed on to write a story forWired about people who’ve tried to end one life and start another. People fret about privacy, but what are the consequences of giving it all up, I wondered. What can investigators glean from all the digital fingerprints we leave behind? You can be anybody you want online, sure, but can you reinvent yourself in real life?

It’s one thing to report on the phenomenon of people disappearing. But to really understand it, I figured that I had to try it myself. So I decided to vanish. I would leave behind my loved ones, my home, and my name. I wasn’t going off the grid, dropping out to live in a cabin. Rather, I would actually try to drop my life and pick up another.

Wired offered a $5,000 bounty — $3,000 of which would come out of my own pocket — to anyone who could locate me between August 15 and September 15, say the password “fluke,” and take my picture. Nicholas Thompson, my editor, would have complete access to information that a private investigator hired to find me might uncover: my real bank accounts, credit cards, phone records, social networking accounts, and email. I’d give Thompson my friends’ contact information so he could conduct interviews. He would parcel out my personal details online, available to whichever amateur or professional investigators chose to hunt for me. To add a layer of intrigue, Wired hired the puzzle creators at Lone Shark Games to help structure the contest.


Click below to open the full cut and paste 😉



A Loss For Words | The Kids

Friday, February 26th, 2016


People that know me… know that things have gone from bad to worse with my ex.  Things were perfect and last summer after going camping with them for a week… things went nuts.

Don’t Tell Mom We Are Camping from Dan Deveau on Vimeo.

Looks like we had a great time.  After that.  She would not answer her phone.  She would not let them call me.  She would not let me call them to talk to them.  She just closed up.

I was suspose to have them for another week to fly them down to Nova Scotia so they can visit their Grandfather.  She would not answer any messages.  I could not book airfare since I didn’t know what was going on.  I had to ask work to push my week vacation since I didn’t want to waste it and I had to take it in November when the kids were in school.   I then flew to Nova Scotia alone to see my Dad.  I wish she didn’t have to wreck that.


Why is she doing this?



She won’t let the kids have messaging apps on their devices.  They don’t have wifi at home.  It’s impossible to message them.  The odd time I get lucky and my daughter connects somewhere like Tim Hortons.


You have no idea when I see her type back.  It feels like Christmas morning.


I’m at a loss for words.  I miss them so much.  It’s just not right.



I miss her.  I miss him.  I am totally shut out of their lives.


I always hear nothing back.  I can send one message per day and do that for 16 days in a row and I don’t get nothing back.  Not a time that I can call them.

It’s just not right.



I’m so frustrated.  I can’t see them.  I can’t communicate with them.  I can’t see how they are doing.  I can’t tell them I love them.  What happens if something happens to me.  What happens if a Drunk Driver kills me in a car crash?  Why does it have to be like this?  It’s one of the reasons I have this blog and make videos.  If something happens to me… it’s the only memories they have of me.  I just wish I could see and talk to them.

I’m at a loss for words.

What do they think?

I know they know that I can’t call them.

They know the reason that when they ask their Mom what the phone number of the landline in the house is and she says “she doesn’t know it”… they know.  They know that she doesn’t want to tell them the phone number that she thinks they will tell me the number and that I can call them.

Why is it so wrong not to allow them to talk to me on a phone?  Does that hurt them?

No… the Mom knows it hurts me.  That’s why.  That’s why it’s a private unlisted number so her Mother and her Sister can call her.  It’s just not right.

How come she calls the police if I show up and knock on the door and ask if they can come out so I can talk to them.  She has done that 3 times.  The last time there was a woman police officer and she could not believe it.  Before I left I asked her if she can go to their Mom and ask her if I can talk to them for 5 minutes.  The Mom said no.

I’m glad she called the police so I could go to the station and get a copy of the police report since it’s proof how stupid this is.

I’m at a loss for words.  Today… I typed a little.

I now have to waste money fighting in courts for her to allow me to talk to them and for her to let me see them and spend time with them.

I honestly don’t know how to put this into words…

Be A Man | A Real Man | FRED et marie | Part One + Two

Monday, October 5th, 2015


FRED et marie (English subtitles) from fredetmarie on Vimeo.


Two great shorts on the blog today.  A great message for Women & Men… as well as young teens that will grow up and hopefully mature into good people. Have respect for people especially the ones that you love & cherish.

Part Two is below…

Marie et Fred (English subtitles) from fredetmarie on Vimeo.