Why properly oriented photos jump back to rotated

A year ago, I watched my good friend, George, create a new account at a popular dating service. It wasn’t a hook-up site, but rather a serious forum for like minded, intellectual, Italian Americans.

George Clooney-sSure, Ellery!…I bet that it was you surfing the
dating service—and not your imaginary friend.

No, seriously. That’s him on the right.               »
Anyway, the first photo that George uploaded is the handsome close-up shown here. But to his surprise, the dating service displayed the sideways photo shown below.

George was surprised, because he recalled that the camera displayed it this way when his mom took the photo. He rotated it clockwise even before uploading to a PC. Now, it displays correctly on both his camera and on his computer screen. He thought that the sideways photo problem had been resolved. He even emailed the photo to me, and it looked fine on both my phone and desktop PC.

George Clooney-Couterclockwise« But there it is at ItalianStallions.com. Somehow, the photo had jumped back to sideways orientation. What gives?!

I started to give George a tip about permanently correcting the problem, but he cut me off…“Ellery”, he said—“I just want to meet Sheryl411. She has incredible eyes. I haven’t been so smitten since I met Amal!

With a remarkably low threshold for technology glitches, he decided to leave the sideways photo at ItallianStallions.com. “I can’t imagine that a reasonable girl would care” He said. “After all, women love my mug. They can rotate it after saving it to their drive—Or, they can simply ask my agent to send a signed, 8-by-10 glossy photo”.

I grimaced. In my opinion, the sideways photo broadcasts a not-too-subtle message—It says that the person seeking companionship is a Luddite, rather than America’s premier hunk. George’s character in the film Up in the Air was ruthless, but had so much more common sense.

George and I were still sitting on the back deck sipping Shirley Temples, when the alert appeared on his screen. Even before he reached out to any of the beautiful, eligible women at ItallianStallions.com, he had caught the eye of Sheryl411. What an incredible coincidence! But, sadly, her note to George was an unsolicited rejection letter:

Dear ‘Clooney-Actor-Hunk’,

I am fascinated by your wit and words—and I love your movies. I read about your break-up with Amal, and I just want to hold you to my breast and comfort you.

I wish that I could jet-set to your latest movie set in Casablanca or sail on your 164 foot yacht. But, I’m afraid that it is not meant to be. I could never date you…

If you can’t figure out how to make a sideways pic of yourself upright, then we are not a good match. I’m sorry… Darwin is making me do it.

I tried to sympathize with George. Sheryl411 represented his fantasy and passionate hopes. But Sheryl has a shorter tolerance for techno-averse actors than they do for figuring out how to rotate a photo.

So what is the problem—and how can it be solved?

In response, I am sharing with readers my reply to Sheryl. (I grabbed George’s laptop PC, and wrote this note back to the object of his lust)…

Dear Sheryl411,

I *love* your final comment to my friend George: “If you can’t figure out how to right a sideways pic…Darwin is making me do it”. Hawhh! And to think that I thought this was a problem related to a double-X chromosome!

It is, in fact, a tricky problem, because with some phones & cameras, the rotate-feature does not really rotate the image data. It only adds a tag that tells the display device that it should be rotated (90, 180 or 270 degrees). So, the user may see a properly oriented photo—even after they upload it to a PC. Yet, when they upload to the dating service, it jumps back to sideways. That’s because the dating site uses older rendering software that does not recognize the rotate instruction.

Sheryl411: George’s latest obsession

For this reason, I would give George a break (even though a sideways photo is one my pet peeves too!). Since cameras and PCs are not his thing, it can be tricky to realize that he needed to use the older method of rotating, which actually rotates and re-writes the image, rather than adding a rotate tag.

But wait! Things don’t really get better, because if you use an older process to truly rotate the image, it is likely to leave the embedded tag which tells newer devices to apply an additional rotation. Oy Gevalt! What to do?!

The best solution is to run a free utility, Autororate. It adds a right-click feature to your Explorer/browser. It rotates and re-saves an image file in place. If the file has a rotate tag, it syncs the underlying orientation and then strips the tag, with no loss of image quality.

And so, Sheryl—We have solved the problem. Now, that I have shown you that I know how to avoid sideways head shots, please consider dating  me  instead of George. He may be a hunk, but I have much more going on upstairs, if you know what I mean! 😉 Check out my dating site profile and my upright photos. If Darwin is your thing, visit my Blog, AWildDuck.com. You are sure to be impressed by my intellect, eclectic wit, charm, wry sarcasm and incredible modesty.

Your future date (or mate-?),
~Ellery


Epilogue:

I forgot to create my own dating page and give Sheryl my user name. So, she had no way to answer me. Later that night, she wrote to George asking for my contact information. (she could have used the Contact form here at Wild Duck).

When George saw her request, he went ballistic! He realized that I had put the moves on his girl. I have always thought of this Blog as a family-friendly site, and so I cannot relate the angry note that George sent to me. It drips with venom and profanity.

Today, Sheryl and I are married. George is still with Amal, and he is still angry with me. He refuses to rekindle our friendship, and so we don’t spend time on his Yacht or on set of his Casablanca movie (It is still being filmed). But we always see his films at the local theater and we raise a glass or two in his honor. After all, he introduced us!

No. I don’t really know George Clooney and I am not married to Sheryl411. I wrote this article to
explain JPEG image rotation. Yes, Sheryl411 is real, and she really can’t stand techno-Luddites.

21st Century Gender Sterotyping? Not so Fast!

Jennifer Wright (@JenAshleyWright) kicked up a firestorm last week, when she tweeted a photo of two side-by-side magazines on a newsstand. The contrast between cover features of Boys’ Life -vs- Girls’ Life is startling. With characteristic sarcastic wit, she tweeted:

“Why are you feminists always complaining?
We treat boys and girls exactly the same.”

For those who are reading this without the image below, the current issue of these magazines calls out to readers like this:

  • Boys: Would you like to build and fly the next generation of jet fighters?
  • Girls: What on Earth can you do with your hair and nails this weekend?

Boy'sLife-vs-Girl'sLife

The difference between these covers suggests that the respective magazine editors are pushing 19th century aspirations onto the next generation of women. It’s a reminder of the differences in the way we perceive the sexes. But does this contrast present a fair and balanced comparison?

Certainly, there is work to do—but, the stark difference between these magazine covers may not point to a societal ill in the way that seems to jump off the screen.

  1. Despite similar titles, these magazines have very different audiences and goals. I doubt that Girls’ Life is aimed at the broader demographics of Boys’ Life. The subscriber base evolved to target the girls of Toddlers and Tiaras. I am exaggerating by pointing to a narrow demographic, of course! but it sells to girls who already aspire to be future homemakers, or who simply have the fashion obsession that is still the hallmark of many preteen girls.
  2. Unlike boys, girls really do have more options for viewing their future and their careers. Feminism and technological/political empowerment is not yet universal or even universally embraced. Some families, particularly among the south, among religious conservatives, and among hard-hat towns dependent upon muscles and mining, still promote the notion of TFRs onto the next generation (traditionally female roles). Right or wrong, it brings us to point #3…
  3. It’s clear that there is a stark difference between covers: “How can I build a jet fighter?” -vs- “What will I do with my hair tonight?” But, it is all too easy to assume that we understand cause-and-effect. That is, the difference is likely to be a reaction to market forces, rather than the publisher’s attempt to shape desires. One cannot find fault with delivering content based on consumer demand.

If you tell me that there are plenty of girls that hope to build or fly a jet fighter, I will nod in agreement. But if you tell me that there is an equal fraction of boys who obsess over their nails, hair and the color of a blouse, I will wonder if we live on the same planet.

My teenage daughter is clearly in the former group: She imagines, asks tough questions, builds, tears down, and then builds a better gizmo from scratch. She codes Android apps and creates massive murals for the local shopping mall. But, some girls care about classic ‘girly’ things, at least during their early years. And here’s a surprise…

Many of these gilrly girls exhibit just as much technical proficiency and self-confidence as their empowered peers. They are assertive, independent, financially savvy, and aware of their equal political and career footings. Helen-Gurley-Brown-vintageYet, many of us feminists bristle at the thought of a female child who obsesses about their hair and nails (at least to the point of subscribing to a magazine in that venue). In fact, the two are not mutually exclusive.

So, can I still call myself a feminist in the mold of Betty Friedan or Gloria Steinem? Perhaps not. I am more likely to identify with a less militant Helen Gurley Brown. She was all about empowerment and sexual equality. Yet, somehow, she avoided pushing the sexes to be completely indistinguishable and androgynous.

Do you disagree? Do you think that I exhibit a Luddite attitude that is at the core of a chauvinistic society? Don’t just let it grate on you—Be a Wild Duck! Leave a comment.

~Ellery

Got Pokémon Go? Not Wesley Crusher!

If your a Trekkie, you remember Wesley Crusher, the young ensign, and son of the ship’s doctor on Star Trek, Next Generation. The character, played by Will Wheaton, appeared regularly for the first four seasons. But beginning with Season five, he made sporadic appearances as a guest star.

tumblr_inline_mqzrxpodNn1qz4rgpIn “The Game” (season 5, episode 6), Wesley locks lips with Ashley Judd, in her first on-screen kiss. It certainly wasn’t Will Wheaton’s first kiss. In “The Dauphin” (season 2, episode 10), he smooches with Salia, a shape-shifting alien with a penchant for morphing between a glowing pile of Jello into the more pleasing form thedauphin1-300x229of teen actress, Jamie Hubbard.

But I digress…

Wesley and his romantic interest hitch a ride on his former ship and discover that a virtual reality game is spreading across the crew like Ecstasy, or more specifically, like Pokémon Go, a Nintendo app that—just 5 tumblr_inline_mqznzssqzs1qz4rgpdays ago—no one had heard of. Now, it runs on one in five smart phones and is spreading like wildfire.

No phenomenon has ever spread across 20% of the population in 5 days. Not in the physical world—and not even in the digital realm. Edison’s gramophone and Alexander Graham Bell’s telephone are indisputably more crave worthy inventions than catching cartoon characters in imaginary balls. Yet, it took these earth shattering inventions twelve years to achieve market penetration.

Kitarian Game on Star Trek Next Generation

A quick pleasure? Use your thoughts to slide the red disks into the funnels.

The Tienanmen Square tank boy and the blue dress (I still claim that it is gold and white) are just bits and pixels. Yet, even these touchstone photographs spread across the country slower than the current Pokémon Go craze.

And just like the eyeglass-mounted game on the Enterprise, Pokémon Go taps directly into the pleasure center causing players to lose sense of where they are and what they had set out to accomplish. How can I be so sure of it’s nefarious capacity for mind control? After just five days, it is implicated in malware scams and armed robberies. It is every bit as addictive as crack cocaine, and possibly as destructive.

Forcibly tapping Wesley’s pleasure center via a game

Forcibly tapping Wesley’s pleasure center via a game

Do you think I’m kidding? When people are addicted to a VR app, bending their will is not difficult. Just ask 1,014 Star Trek crew members who were hypnotized and repuposed by a Ktarian mind control game. If it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of Wesley Crursher and his girlfriend, Ensign Robin Lefler (played by Ashley Judd), we’d all be speaking Ktarian today!


Postscript: This article is more about a Star Trek episode than it is about a new game app. I have always wanted to write a short post about a terrific television franchise that has touched so many people across three generations and all continents. The sudden spread of a new Internet sensation has simply given me the excuse to do so. Just like “Blink of an Eye”, The Game is indelibly written into my psyche. The parallels with an addictive new game that even captivates my AirBnB guest, Javier, and my neighbor, Lois, is eerie and raises questions about the causes, mechanisms and effects of mind control.

Gifts: Which of these things is not like the other?

Time for a pop quiz: Which of these things does not belong?

not_these_gifts-s

wristwatch      • wallet      • pen      • chocolates     • eyeglasses

Actually, it’s a trick question. If your giving to a man, four of these five gifts do not belong on your list—Not, unless you want smiles and gratitude as fake as a $3 bill.

I am a frequent contributor to Quora. For the most part, I write about Bitcoin and economics, but occasionally, I answer reader queries about physics and math. Sometimes, my answers are voted to the top of the heap.

Today, I was asked to describe what would qualify as the world’s worst gift. The topic is fluff, of course—but now and then, fluff can lead to a good thought experiment.

Of course, the concept of a good gift or a bad gift is highly personal. If you are allergic to flowers, then a bouquet of roses may be a very bad gift. Likewise, giving a bra may mean one thing to your lover, something different thing to your neighbor’s daughter, and with a completely different meaning when presented to your heavy set, male boss.

This may be my own emotional boil, but I have always told my family to avoid gifting me a wallet, watch, personal jewelry or a fountain pen. Today, I would add a mobile phone. (That is, unless my preferences have been published in a registry or gift list). For me, any of these gifts is very likely to qualify as a “worst gift”.

Why?! It’s not that I don’t like these things. In fact, it is the opposite. But I would rather make the choice for myself. To illustrate, think of the old standby for any businessman: The neck tie. Imagine how the giver feels when they realize that you never wear it. Imagine how you feel, when you realize that your little girl has never seen you wear it to work.

Some of these things shown above are functional and some are just ornamental, but each combines personal taste with identity and an individual’s unique sense of aesthetics. The choice of an accessory projects a unique style and taste. Unlike a box of chocolates or a dozen roses, the other gifts are not fresh or consumed and the giver expects these durable and personal items to be worn or used at some point down the road.

Without close consultation, you wouldn’t buy your friend eyeglasses or an expensive ring—even if you knew the prescription. For most men, a lot of thinking goes into the purchase of a cell phone, a wallet, a special pen or a watch.

Here’s a better idea: Skip the material gift altogether. It simply compels them to reciprocate, potentially leading to further stress. Instead, tell that special person how much he/she means to you. Offer to clean the house, take them to the doctor’s office, or sit with them in the aftermath of a personal tragedy.

Leather-iPhone-Wallet-by-PortelMost important, show your friendship and understanding when they are at their lowest. To help someone less fortunate, bring them on your next family vacation. These gestures demonstrate friendship, empathy and a sense of importance in your life. They mean more than a big screen television.

In case some generous reader disagrees—insisting on a culture of giving material things—consider getting me a wallet this holiday season. But not just any wallet. Get this one by Portel. I don’t use an iPhone, but I dig the slim fit and weathered style!

Ellery Davies is co-chair of The Cryptocurrency Standards Association and former
CEO of Vanquish Labs. He writes for Lifeboat Foundation and Naked Security.

Tiny Tim: Footnote to Falsetto

Miss Vicki, Tiny Tim wedding, Tonight ShowMost Americans over 50 remember Tiny Tim, an entertainer with a ukulele, a high pitch falsetto voice and a signature song. A sea of humanity watched him marry Miss Vicki on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. The episode was as highly anticipated and touted as the 1st moon landing. My family watched on a black & white TV in my dad’s bedroom.

Tiny Tim rocketed to fame in the late 60s as an effeminate oddity, with his warbly, high-pitch voice, a tiny plastic ukulele, and a face that was a blend of Howard Stern, The Joker and Jimmy Durante.

That Tim was a social outcast, ill at ease, and a weird performer is beyond dispute. For example, he refused to let anyone see him eat, even his new bride. Meals had to be consumed at separate times or in separate rooms. He attributed the behavior to some fringe religious observance. Nonsense! His mother was a Polish Jew and his father, a Lebanese Catholic. Tiny TimIn both religions and regions, food is celebrated and central to socializing. He was just very weird.

Could his affectations and quirks have been trumped up to buttress his stage persona? His biographer and a consensus of Wikipedia fans insist that Tiny Tim was the real deal. They state “pundits and journalists debated whether or not the character presented was an orchestrated act, or the real thing. It quickly became clear that he was genuine, however, and he could probably be best described as a lonely outcast intoxicated by fame—and a romantic in pursuit of his ideal dream.” Either way, Tiny Tim and Michael Jackson shared a weird awkwardness when they were not performing. The big difference is that Michael Jackson oozed with raw talent. No one really thought that Tiny Tim had talent. He was just a nice man whom you felt a bit sorry for.

d443d59e535801c82617201e016ddad2Even if you recall Tiptoe through the Tulips, you may be unaware that Tiny Tim also sang in a deep bass voice.  Check out his rendition of Earth Angel, the 1955 doo-wop hit by the Penguins. Although he starts and ends with a deep voice, he reverts to falsetto in the middle. He also drops to his knees and begins smashing an air guitar against the floor. Actually, this song would not be the type of rock song that is typically accompanied by smashing instruments.

In September 1996, Tiny Tim was 64. As he was beginning to perform at a ukulele festival in western Massachusetts, he suffered a heart attack on stage. Although he survived the event, his doctors urged him to stop performing immediately. Weakened by diabetes and a heart condition, his constitution could easily be overtaxed by his schedule and performing style. Two months later, Ignoring his doctors’ advice, he died, on stage, at a gala benefit in Minneapolis.

Pet Peeve #4: Time zones are for locals

Have you ever made a list of pet peeves? I’m not referring to the behavioral quirks that couples develop over years of cohabitation. That’s part of every relationship and it is only addressed through give and take and a lot of patience. Rather, I refer to the little things that have become institutionalized all around us—and yet, we know that they are just plain idiotic. The problem is that they are too small to be picked up by the national news and too common to believe that they can be avoided.

Let’s say that you are driving along a road that comes to an end by forming a ‘T’ at the side of a much busier road. The cross street is busy, but it’s not divided. You plan to make a left turn after clearing a string of high-speed cars approaching from the right.

Conditions are good and there are no obstructions. There is no one coming from the left. Looking to the right, you can see a mile down the road. There are 4 cars speeding toward you, a long space and then a major throng of cars that will tie up the intersection for minutes. You get ready to drop the hammer as soon as that 4th car passes the intersection. You are patient, in a good mood and your car is well tuned.

Traffic Intersection

What’s the dumbest thing that the driver in car #4 could do? Does he have the power to ruin your day and raise your blood pressure while trying to be a nice guy? He sure does!

He can hesitate—slowing just enough to get honked by the parade behind him and just enough to close your window of opportunity. If you are in a hurry to get somewhere, he will ruin your morning faster than you can mime “Move your friggin’ tailpipe!!”. He is oblivious to the fact that his gesture of good will has backfired.

Cross street drivers who let up on the gas are one of my three pet peeves. But today, I was reminded of another minor irritation. From now on, I will call it “Pet Peeve #4”.

I have a good friend in Germany. He is a high tech entrepreneur and tends to move about the globe. His businesses are in Australia and New Zealand, and he spent a long part of the past year in Shanghai. I never know where he will be. But he is currently in Germany and he knows that I am in America.

Realizing that we need to discuss an important matter, he asks me if I will be available during my weekday mornings, between 9 and 11 AM my time. Noting that he has already contemplated the time difference, I check my calendar. “Sure. That works for me,” I tell him… “Why don’t you set the schedule? Any morning this week is good.” He commits to have a colleague figure out the final date.

Taj MahalMinutes later, I receive a Google Calendar link for my approval. It asks that our meeting be established on Wed 26 Nov 2014 from 21:30 to 22:00, India Standard Time. I was unprepared for the involuntary groan that arose from the pit of my stomach. Here, is an open letter to my buddy and the colleague who scheduled our conference to be held on India Time…

C’mon guys / gals… The Internet works on “Internet Time”, also known as UTC or GMT. It is effectively Earth time. It never changes with seasons, war, edict, accidents or daylight savings. It just moves forward as the universal heartbeat of the Internet.

clocksPlease don’t make me translate your Indian Standard Time. I will get it wrong. I always do.

And please don’t figure it out in “USA-Eastern Standard Time”.  Here in the US, politicians shift Daylight Savings dates, sometimes splitting it by local counties. In some areas, they change it by only 30 minutes for border towns. (Yes! We are that nuts).

So please: Just tell me the time in UTC. It is the only time that should ever be cited when dealing with anyone that you can’t reach with a personal handshake.

P.S. Don’t take insult when I post your suggested meeting time (and this sarcastic response) to A Wild Duck. Sure, you helped me to discover a new peeve—But you have also hit upon my funny bone!

Faithfully yours,
~Ellery

The Baby Exchange

Can telling a white lie to a child backfire? It did for me.

From time to time, at AWildDuck, I offer an observation or op-ed on a topic of human interest. This one is not about current events, the price of gold, law or politics. Nah. It’s just Ellery relating a personal experience and a lesson learned…

When my teenage daughter was 3 or 4 years old, I took her with me for a routine blood test (my test and not hers). On the way to the hospital, I explained that we would be visiting the same hospital where we ‘bought’ her. She seemed to accept the explanation. She even asked if the hospital had a variety of babies from which new parents could choose.

car seat tantrumLater, during that same ride, she became irritable and whiny. She complained about something unrelated to our hospital conversation. In an effort to calm her, I made a terrible blunder. Actually, it was just a joke. At least that’s how I saw it. But to my daughter, is was an ominous threat…

I told her, “If you don’t calm down and behave, I will ask the doctor if I can return you for a refund or maybe exchange you for another model.”

Suddenly, she became very quiet. I assumed that she had simply stopped fretting over whatever was bothering her. I interpreted the sudden tranquility as evidence of good behavior.

[One hour later]…

Throughout the appointment, my little girl remained as quiet as a church mouse. I figured that she must simply be processing the fact that blood can be drawn from a person’s arm. When I completed the brief procedure, I realized that we were directly across a hall from the obstetrics ward. I hadn’t visited since my daughter was born. It seemed a good idea to check it out under less stressful circumstances. Holding my girl’s hand, we walked over. Almost Immediately, I spotted the doctor and head nurse who delivered my daughter.

Doctor_Nurse-a

Dr. John DeLoge & Trish Hardigan, RN

“Cupcake”, I said. “I want you to meet some very special people. This is the doctor and nurse that brought you to Mommy and Daddy.” My daughter froze. At first, she offered only a blank stare, Her eyes were as big as saucers.

Gradually, I realized that my precious cupcake was in a state of shock. Her eyes welled up in tears. She began to wail at the top of her lungs while hyperventilating.
“P-l-e-e-e-z-e, Daddy! Don’t give me back to the hop-pis-tal. Don’t exchange me for another baby!! Pleeeze don’t do that!! I promise that I’ll be good! I will never whine or talk back again—EVER! I promise, Daddy! I want to live with you and Mommy! Don’t exchange me!”

Realizing that my precious girl was terrified and that the terror was caused by me, I held her tightly and explained that I was wrong to tell her what I did. I explained that Mom & Dad’s love is unconditional and that parents never return babies.

She calmed down and we headed for the parking lot. But not before the nurse reminded me that a parent must never place a child’s security in doubt—nor assume that a toddler could understand a joke that trifles with the security of the family unit.

I agree.