Memo-To-Self

COMING SOON

2011-06-18T17:22:00.000-07:00

This blog will soon return with more regular posts including more writing to join the always amazing photography of Kurt Hegre.

Stay tuned.

July Fourth in Hanford

2009-07-05T23:43:00.000-07:00

We spent Independence Day in Hanford at the home of our friend Gary. My wife grew up in Hanford so she always enjoys the fireworks show at the high school. Gary lives three blocks from the school so we picked up our pal Mark and headed south for a bbq and fireworks.

We sat around Gary's pool and ate tri-tip while we waited for the cover of darkness so we could blow up things.

Mark had a supply of firecrackers that he kept tossing at us when we passed by. He then grabbed a plastic bottle, filled it with water and dropped a lit firecracker into it. The bottle shot up about ten feet, sending water everywhere.

Mark and Gary were like Beavus and Butthead and began looking for a something to launch a bottle rocket. They found thin 6 foot piece of pipe and dropped the rocket down the tube which then launched it like a screaming mortar which sent sparks out the top of the pipe.

We ended the evening watching the fireworks at the high school which seemed to go on forever.

The Mountains Call Me

2009-07-05T22:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of pictures from some recent trips to the mountains. The landscape shot is from a fishing trip up Kaiser Pass Road. The scenery is amazing up there but the drive is a little rough. A one lane road filed with potholes winds up and down rugged canyons.

I was able to catch a few fish, a nice 13-14 inch rainbow in the San Joaquin river just below Florence Lake and several smaller rainbows at Mono Hot Springs and Ward Lake.

The buck was in Wawona, just inside the southern entrance of Yosemite. The area near the hotel is the place to go if you want to see deer. I don't think I've ever driven through the area in the early evening and not seen deer.

I had been fishing the south fork of the Merced river in Wawona for several hours last Friday. The water level was perfect and cool, so wading made the conditions great for fishing. I landed 4 or fish colorful rainbows in the 7-10 inch range. The fish here are wild and usually quite small but very pretty. Just before sunset I saw a large fish jumping at bugs landing on the water. I waded downstream and cast so that my fly would float over the spot where I saw the fish jump. On the first cast the fish leaped up and grabbed my fly and headed downstream with it. I was able to keep him on and landed the biggest fish I've ever caught in Yosemite. It was a 15 inch rainbow.

Having landed the fish, I packed up and headed down the road to Wawona where I knew I could find some deer to photograph.

A good day.

A Return To Blogging

2009-07-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

After a break of several months I've decided to return to the blog. Much has happened since my last post. I was laid off from my job of 18 years as a photographer for the Fresno Bee in March. It's been a strange time and I've had to make some big adjustments.

Not having a place to go each day is one of the bigger challenges. Having no camera equipment is another. I turned in a full set of top end digital cameras and lenses as well as an Apple laptop when I left. It took me two months to get a new laptop and pick up a combination of used and new lenses and a Canon Mark III body.

Since getting my camera and lenses I've tried to shoot something several times a week even If I have no assignments.

I'm always looking for things that might make a nice picture or two. My wife, sister in-law and friend Mark caught a great concert by Fresno rock violinist Patrick Contreras recently and I brought along my camera.

Championship Weekend 1

2009-03-09T15:51:00.000-07:00

Championship Weekend

2009-03-09T15:42:00.000-07:00

Six high school basketball games in two days.

Paradise East

2008-09-15T13:09:00.001-07:00

Spent some time on the East side of the Sierra last week. Fished the Owens river, Hot Creek and the San Joaquin river near Devils Postpile and spent some time at Mono Lake and in Tuolumne Meadows.

If I could afford it, I would live over there and fish every day.

Listen To This

2008-07-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

Two albums I can't get enough of lately are The Black Keys "Chulahoma" and Junior Kimbrough's "You Better Run".

"Chulahoma" is a six song EP of Kimbrough's music played by the Akron, Ohio duo and "You Better Run" is an anthology of the late bluesman's work.

There's no doubt that Kimbrough's versions of the songs are better but the Black Keys are like the early Rolling Stones in that they can cover the blues without ever sounding like they are mimicking. Their version of Kimbrough's "Meet Me in The City" is ever bit as dark and dirty as anything the Stones ever did with Slim Harpo or Muddy Waters.

In any case, I love both of these albums. Junior Kimbrough was one of the greatest of the Delta bluesman and you, yes all 8 of you, should get this album right now.

You should also have all the Black Keys albums as well. Their latest "Attack and Release" is the best album of the year.

Ouch Photos

2008-07-20T15:20:00.000-07:00

This week's sports photos included a couple of painful looking images. By the way, the women wasn't injured by the bat. The soccer player required a head full of stitches.

The Smart Car Is Here

2008-07-15T21:33:00.000-07:00

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And It Rocks....

Got Poop?

2008-06-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

Human Cockfighting

2008-05-08T23:52:00.000-07:00

I spent another night shooting what is called mixed martial arts or ultimate fighting. It's pretty much just two guys beating the shit out of each other while people in the audience yell things like "Break his leg".

I had difficulty shooting tonight because the area set aside for photographers was set back from the edge of the ring making it hard to get an angle without bending my body like a Russian circus freak. There were people sitting behind the photographers and at one point the promoter tapped me on the shoulder and told me that I was too tall and paying customers couldn't see the fight.

I managed to find a chair and shoot from an even more uncomfortable position. Luckily for me the local fighters all had quick bouts and I was able to get out earlier than I expected.

I guess next time the paper will have to send a midget to the fights. Meanwhile I'll be looking into the possibility of having myself declared a "State Sanctioned Mutant with A Vertical Disorder" so that I can force the promoters to build me a special platform to shoot from. The platform would have to included a lounge chair, fresh supply of ice water and a case of Slim Jims.

My people can not be stopped.

Futbol

2008-02-23T15:31:00.000-08:00

High school soccer championships this week and it rained like crazy. It always makes for some nice pictures when they play on a wet field but as a photographer it means I'm spending two hours getting soaked while I wait for the celebrations at the end.

I Never Looked So Cool Again

2008-02-18T16:20:00.000-08:00

My dad sent me this picture of me and my mom taken when we lived in France. I was probably three years old. I'm wearing a wooden camera my dad made me.

My mom and I look so groovy.

Smells Like Skunk

2008-02-18T16:12:00.001-08:00

Eric and I took our first fishing trip of the year Sunday. Common sense should have told us that it was too early in the year to fish but Mother Nature's slutty daughter,Spring was whispering in our ears, promising plentiful trout and an ample supply of wood nymphs.

We headed to the Upper Kings river, above Pine Flat dam. This spot is known for its large, wild trout but it’s also known for it’s large rattlesnake population. Also, it’s not real easy to get too. After a hour and a half drive from Fresno around the lake it takes a long ten mile drive on a rough, narrow dirt road that takes you several hundred feet above the river. We passed what must have a been a hundred cyclists taking part in a race. It slowed us down until we got to the back side of the lake. At one point we came across a rock slide that just barely left enough room for a single vehicle to pass.

At the end of the road we parked and hiked for a couple more miles up a slowly climbing canyon and the back down again to gain access to the river.

The water looked great, not too high or low and fairly clear but it was still cold. 45 degrees was the reading Eric got. The air temperature was in the 60’s but the water was just not warm enough to bring the fish out of their dormant state.

We fished a number of spots along the river and never ever saw a fish. Usually we at least see some fish taunting us but if I diddn’t know better I’d swear that there were no fish.

We kept trying until it got dark but ended the day covered with the strong stench of skunk.

Running and Fighting

2008-01-28T12:06:00.000-08:00

This time of year I spend 5 or 6 days a week shooting basketball. This past couple of weeks I've had a few breaks in the form of pro bull riding, indoor track and field and yesterday, hockey. I shot the third period of the game from the catwalk, several hundred feet above the ice. From this vantage point, you are directly over the players and it gives a somewhat scary, but very interesting angle. Early in the period a fight broke out directly under me and when the refs jumped on the pile to break it up it looked like some kind of eight-legged bug slithering on the ice.

Tonight I return to more basketball and my fourth night in a row at the Save Mart center which I'm beginning to become way too familier with.

Cowboy Night In Fresno

2008-01-19T15:16:00.000-08:00

Shot pro bullriding last night. It's an annual event and draws a huge crowd. There were people arriving in limos, which would seem odd in other places but not in Fresno.

The event is part rodeo part rock concert. Instead of country music, they blast hard rock from groups like Metallica and Guns and Roses. Lot's of colored lights and fog machines too. But try as they do, it still smells like a huge barn with the smell of cow shit mixed with Coors light and nachos.

Airport Report

2007-12-30T08:03:00.000-08:00

I feel like Gumby. Lack of sleep has left me lightheaded and groggy. Coffee isn't strong enough for this.

Sitting in SFO waiting for a flight to Boise. Up way too early with almost no sleep last night. Shot Stanford basketball yesterday and tomorrow is Fresno State's bowl game.

Can't wait to get to my hotel in Boise and get some sleep.

Kept busy in the airport shooting pictures of the sportswriters I'm traveling with.

Aloha Stadium

2007-11-11T02:34:00.000-08:00

Nice light, cool clouds and interesting walkways made for the best photo of the night in Hawaii tonight. The football pictures were pretty routine but I liked this image of the stadium at sunset.

I'm out of here in tomorrow afternoon and hoping the flights home go a little smoother than the incoming journey.

Greetings from the Sandwich Islands

2007-11-09T17:49:00.000-08:00

I'm in Hawaii to shoot a football game. I'm not a big fan of the beach and sun so much of the appeal of this place is lost on me. Waikiki, where I'm staying is essentially Las Vegas with a beach. It's the most commercial, tourist pocked place I've ever been.

I've been to the island of Hawaii aka The Big Island and much of it is quite nice. Fewer tourists and more glimpses of what it must have looked like before Whitey fucked things up.

My room on the 28th floor has a small balcony which gives me a view of the ocean. It's nice but the noise from the traffic below is a constant reminder that I'm in a city. Sirens are ever present. As I type this I can see people with surfboards strapped to their bikes heading for the beach.

I walked around today and shot pictures of tourists. I'm sure if I spent more time I could do better but hey, I'm here to shoot football.

I shot this stuff in color of course but since I set the color balance wrong and wasn't able to see the screen because of the bright sunlight, I converted them to black and white.

Another Saturday, Another Football Game

2007-11-04T12:45:00.000-08:00

Bronco Slapped

2007-10-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

Once again, Boise State beats Fresno State.

This Hair Makes Me Angry

2007-10-25T16:33:00.001-07:00

Big Elvis and Loud Whores

2007-09-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

We took a quick drive across the desert to Las Vegas last week. I have mixed feelings about Vegas. It’s clearly an example of everything that’s wrong with American society and capitalism run amuck but at the same time it provides an endless supply of weird sites and sounds that I just can’t resist. It’s like a Freakshow Bootcamp. In just 48 hours you’re exposed to enough bizarre behavior to last several years.

We arrived around 8PM, checked into the hotel and rested for an hour or so before venturing out for food. After dinner we wandered around the strip checking out the casinos and parade of people. The drive left me a little weary so we decided to call it a night around midnight and headed back to the room. I watched a show about Area 51 on TV and fell asleep.

At 6 AM I was awakened by the sound of a very loud, whiney female voice that sounded like it was coming from the hallway. It turned out that it wasn’t the hallway, but the room right next to ours. The women was carrying on a conversation at a volume level just slightly below that of a Mastadon concert. We could hear every single thing she said. At first I assumed that she was just drunk and would soon pass out in a stupor thus ending the sunrise performance.

I was wrong. For a while I was able to slip in and out of sleep, only to wake up to hear the conversation in mid stride. The broad just wouldn’t shut up. At one point I remember saying “Just stick something in her mouth to shut her up.” You could hear a male voice in the room as well, but the man was speaking at a much lower volume, as if he actually realized that it was 6 AM in a hotel occupied by others.

My wife had also been awakened by the noise and was actually able to follow the conversation enough to figure out what was going on. The women it seemed was a whore or at least a part-time whore (what with downsizing and all, it was bound to happen) and was trying to strike a deal with the guy in the room next door.

I couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just leave when the guy wouldn’t cough up the money she was requesting ($200.00). I always thought hookers were very time conscious
and didn’t waste time negotiating.

But the bargaining continued, they ordered room service and ate, blabbing away at full volume the whole time. It became apparent that although the women was asking for money in exchange for sex, she wasn’t a street hooker or even an escort. It seemed she had met the guy in a nightclub at the Luxor and spent the night clubbing , drinking and gambling with him before coming back to his room and demanding $200 to tickle his tutu.

At some point they turned on a porno movie . The sound of recorded moaning and “Ohhh Gawddddddd thundered out of the room and filled the hallway of the hotel. It was nearly 7 AM by now and people were beginning to leave their rooms for breakfast. Maids were pushing carts down the hall to clean rooms and yet the sounds of prerecorded orgasms were bouncing off the walls. I kept thinking that someone would complain, maybe a family with kids headed off for a day at an amusement park or something but no one did.

After a little while, the couple apparently reached a deal and the sound of their moaning and thrusting began to mix with the porn movie to make it seem like there was a full scale Roman orgy taking place in the room.

At some point I drifted back to sleep thinking that maybe this was a new service provided by Vegas hotels: Would you like a whore in your room sir, or perhaps in the room next door?

We woke up late, ate and began the long hike down the strip, stopping in as many casinos as possible. They all begin to look alike but each one has the potential for offering something really odd, so you have to take a look.

Between Bally’s and the Flamingo we stopped in a small, dingy looking place called “Bill’s Gambling Hall”. The place was very old Vegas, with ratty carpet and lot’s of old people who looked like they started smoking when they were still in the womb.

My wife and sister motioned me over to a corner of the casino where the music of Elvis was being sung by what I assumed was just another one of the seemingly endless Elvis impersonators.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I slowly became aware of what first appeared to be some sort of walrus in a tent-sized, black jump suit. Whatever it was, it seemed to actually be human and it was doing a fairly good vocal imitation of the King.

As I got closer I realized that what I was seeing was clearly the worlds largest Elvis impersonator. This guy was massive, making even the latter-day, fried banana and quadruple cheeseburger for breakfast Elvis look svelte. It looked like someone has poured three hundred gallons of flesh-colored yogurt into a tight black jump suit.

He was billed as “Big Elvis” and there’s no way to argue about his title. The guy had a huge throne-like seat that he held court in. He would stand for 30 seconds or so before slumping back down into his wooden ass-harness.

The guy did actually sound like Elvis though, which is more than I can say for most people who pass themselves off as the King. But visually, it just was too much to take. I kept feeling like I was gasping for breath just watching the guy and I was afraid to get close to him because of the sweat that was launching itself from his torso.

The rest of the trip was fairly typical of a Vegas visit. Brides and grooms walking down the strip and through casinos in full wedding garb, Mexican guys handing out cards that say “ Have a women delivered to your room in 20 minutes” and the usual drunken tourists.

Up On The Roof

2007-09-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

I spent several hours on the roof of Fresno's Security Bank building today. They are replacing the sign and I was there to shoot pictures of the event. The guys doing the work arrived late so I wandered around the balcony of the 14th floor and shot pictures of the streetlife below. The light was nice and these pictures ended up much better than the sign.

Postcards from Yosemite

2007-09-04T13:01:00.001-07:00

I finally got my Yosemite tourist project into the paper and on the web this week. I've been shooting these pictures for years but began to hit it hard again this summer. I consider it a work in progress and am going to try and get an exhibit and at least self publish a book. I'll be looking for any sort of grant money I can scrounge to finance the rest of it.

Making these pictures has really gotten me excited about photography again. It's really easy to get beaten down by the daily grind of a newspaper job. I'm hoping that I can keep the excitiment going for a while.

I'll be flying to Texas later this week to shoot football. I hope I can somehow find a few non-football pictures to make along the way. Even one nice picture from a road trip would be a victory.

There's always a ton of stuff to do before one of these trips and I usually feel anxious in the days leading up to them.

It's Check Yourself For Ticks Month

2007-07-31T23:18:00.000-07:00

Most of the interesting pictures lately have come on the way to, and from assignments. Lot's of busy work in the summer.
I have resurrected my Yosemite tourists project and have some really nice new work to add to my body of work. I will be doing something for the paper and probably a slide show with audio for their website but my goal is to do a book. I may have to settle for a self published book and an exhibit but it's better than nothing.

But for now, here are a couple of pictures made while doing other things.

Nothing Is Ok

2007-07-12T21:05:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I updated. A few odd things have happened. I was photographing yet another candlelight vigil (or as I heard one yokel call it a "candlelight virgil") when it finally happened. A women set her hair on fire during the vigil. I knew if i attended enough of these events I would live to see the day when someone torched themselves. She was quickly extinguished without injury but there's nothing like the stench of burned hair to put a damper on a candlelight vigil. It has now set the bar quite high. I will not be fully satisfied next time unless there is some sort of explosion.

It diddn't make much of a photo though so instead enjoy some barn owls right before they attacked me.

Bring Me The Head Of Donald Trump

2007-07-12T21:04:00.001-07:00

Professional Ball Player

2007-05-05T21:25:00.000-07:00

Outofocus

2007-05-04T21:44:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when auto focus fails.

Space Invaders Replace Children

2007-04-21T20:40:00.000-07:00

Shaver lake? I hardly know her…
Exeter? I never even entered her….
Filter? I never touched her…
Shelter? I was never near her…
Scooter? I diddn’t even see her…
Parker? I never even drove her….
Fax Her? I don’t even know her name….
Skier? I never even spoke to her….
Fowler? I can’t stand her…

Look, I Can Balance On Balloons

2007-03-09T14:47:00.000-08:00

Dog Day Afternoon

2007-03-08T16:25:00.000-08:00

The Sporting Life

2007-03-04T12:44:00.001-08:00

For the past six years or so, most of my assignments have been sporting events. I’m not a huge sports fan but I enjoy photographing games because it offers one of the few opportunities in newspapers to capture real emotions. Too much of what passes for journalism these days is so heavily manipulated by PR firms and handlers that sports has become one of the last homes for capturing the decisive moment. I find that sad, but it’s reality.

Still, shooting sports has it problems as well. Each year it seems to get harder and harder to get the access necessary for good pictures. At the Save Mart Center in Fresno it has become a game between the photographers and arena security. It usually goes something like this:

Security guard: “You can’t sit there.”
Photographer: “What? I’ve been sitting here all season. Why, can’t I sit here?”
Security guard: No, you’ve never been able to sit here. Move”
Photographer: “I was sitting here 20 minutes ago and no one seemed to mind.”
Security guard: No you weren’t, now move or I’ll have the police arrest you.”

A couple of years ago I was actually led out of the arena by a couple of cops only to have a representative from Fresno State call and apologize the next day, after I had missed half the game. Every game it’s something different, I don’t remember the last time I was left alone to shoot pictures without some douchebag in a yellow jacket, or in the case of the SMC a red sweater getting in my face like a shit –eating fly.

Every once in a while despite all the bullshit I manage to make a picture that captures the essence of an event. This past Friday was one of those nights. After spending at least 20 minutes trying to get a pack of troll-like cheerleaders to move out of my way, I was able to get a pretty nice image of Fresno State players and fans celebrating in a huge, mass scrum at the end of the bulldogs last second victory over Boise State.

The Who Kick Ass In Fresno

2007-02-27T12:05:00.000-08:00

It's easy to dismiss The Who as irrelevant dinosaurs making the rounds of the nation's arenas as an nostalgia act. In fact, when tickets for their Fresno show went on sale last year I nearly did just that. I quickly came to my senses and realized that it would be like a devout Catholic missing a visit by the pope.

First of all, I along with many fans have trouble calling the current version of the band The Who. Keith Moon and John Entwistle were far more than just sideman. Moon was clearly the greatest drummer in rock and Entwistle was an innovator on his instrument (the solo on My Generation alone is enough to elevate him to the front of the pack) with a wicked sense of humor and a slew of wacky songs like "Boris The Spider" to add to the act.

Still, The Who has always been the canvas for Pete Townshend's art and as one of the 5 or so most important figures in rock history even his minor works are considerable. Time and loss of bandmates has done little to erase that fact. The group's new album "Endless Wire" is their best since 1975's The Who By Numbers and the passage of time has only made the older music more relevant.

I've seen most of the living guitar Gods and without a doubt the greatest live exhibition of rock'n' roll I've ever witnessed was by The Who in 1980 at the Oakland Colisium Arena. Townshend was possessed that night, he looked angry, wearing a Clash t-shirt with the arms cut off and scowl, he played like his future depended on how much noise he could generate. Roger Daltry was still able to scream, I mean real, honest- to- God bloodcurdling, "i'm going to explode" screams. It was perhaps the first and last time I could describe a show as frighting. The band played so loud my head rang for three days. It was an amazing experience and set the bar pretty high for future shows.

I knew Sunday's show in Fresno wouldn't match the intensity of that Oakland show, I've seen the band three times since that night and although the shows were all great, that night in Oakland was a near religious experience and things like that just don't happen twice.

Still, I wasn't prepared for how good they would be. Our seats were good, maybe 12 rows back, right in the center and at times it felt like we were in a small club. The band no longer plays at brain damage volume levels and the sound Sunday was as crisp and clear as any arena show I've seen.

The show included a number of the usual hits but unlike the recent Stones tour, The Who played 7 or 8 songs from their new album. It was clear that the audience wasn't too familier with the material but the slower, mostly acoustic set was one of the highlights of the night.

Townshend, for his part is still a master of the power cord, windmilling his way through "Baba O'Reily" and a powerful Tommy medley as an encore. They ended the show after the 20 minute blast of heavy metal from Tommy with a quite acoustic number called "Tea and Theatre" from the new album, with just Daltry and Townshend onstage. It was a dramatic way to close a show instead of the usual high energy number.

Daltry's voice is still powerful and by choosing songs that are clearly still within his range they avoided exposing any overreaching which could have been ugly.

Townshend in particular seemed in a great mood, joking with the crowd about the pronunciation of the name Fresno " Is it Fre-Sno?" and playfully banging himself over the head with his acoustic guitar after a slow number.

Replacing Moon on drums was Zak Starky, Ringo's son, who somehow manages to play more like Moon than anyone i've ever heard. Pete's brother Simon adds backup guitar and vocals and was pressed into duty as an opening act Sunday when the scheduled band got stuck in a snowstorm on the way from Reno. Simon did a short, entertaining set of acoustic songs including one called "I Want a Sex Change".

In any case, The Who is not even close to being a nostagia act, I'd argue that most, if not all newer bands couldn't come close to holding the stage with the presence and power that they did Sunday. And even if some of the best moments were from 30 year old albums, I hardly think that negates the importance of what they do.

And beside that, when was the last time you heard anything as good as "Who's Next or Live at Leeds'? Seriously, I love new music as much as anyone, my favorite album from last year was by the Arctic Monkeys but I'm still waiting for music as compelling as work done by the old farts.

Maybe that makes me an old fart. If so, i hope the smell drifts your way.

Hobbits, Spam, Hookers and Bad Air and Malls.

2007-02-19T22:50:00.000-08:00

We are home safely after two weeks in the Philippines.

The air is so bad you can taste it, the diet is so heavy on fried foods it would not be out of place in Graceland and everywhere you go you are assaulted by the sounds of wild dogs, roosters, honking cars and 24-hour karaoke bars. Still, it’s never dull and I enjoy the stimulation as long as I know I can come home.

One of the highlights of the trip was a visit to the Hobbit House in Manila. The place is legendary among travelers and I’d wanted to visit for years. It’s a folk music bar that features a staff of waiters made up entirely of midgets.

It didn’t disappoint and it turned out that the music was actually quite good. The waiters were pleasant and not once did I feel as though I was going to be bitten in the knees.

The Hobbit House is located in a red light district and before stopping in to visit the wee folk we had dinner in a Japanese restaurant next door to a whore house. The women were all gathered by the door with little numbers pinned to their tiny shorts. All along the street back to our hotel we passed windows with “hostesses” posing for all to see.

We spent far more time at shopping malls than I wanted because no matter how big they are, they begin to look the same after a week. The malls are huge though. Literally the size of four American malls they each seemed to have thousands of stores and entire floors of restaurants.

Another somewhat alarming thing we noticed in the Philippines was the level of security everywhere we went. As our taxi entered the driveway of our Manila hotel, security guards stopped the car and searched the underside of the vehicle with mirrors for bombs. Once outside the car we had to walk through the kind of metal detector they have in airports to get to the lobby. This process was repeated as we entered the parking garages of the shopping malls and every store including fast food joints was guarded by guards toting sawed off shotguns. I also noticed that as employees left the stores in the mall for lunch breaks the security guards searched them by patting them down.

I always thought of Spam as White Trash food but it turns out it’s quite popular in the Philippines. At one store I saw an entire aisle, at least 50 feet long stocked with nothing but Spam in about 20 different varieties. Elvis would be proud.

Ok, that’s all for now, I’m still tired from the trip and I’m sure you have better things to do than read my ramblings.

Drive By Shooting

2007-01-28T01:32:00.000-08:00

I'm trying out a new digital point and shoot this week. I borrowed it from work so that I can take it with me when we go to the Philippines. I no longer want to carry a film camera on the road and I want something as small as my Leica. This camera has a 28 mm lens and can shoot video . I hate the shutter delay but it seems to be just part of the trade off for being so small.

I don't have any instructions for this thing so I'm simply pushing buttons and experimenting. My goal is to use it for a very different style of photography than my usual newspaper work.

Today I shot all my pictures from a moving car.

Enjoy.

The Ant Eye Bug

2006-12-08T20:55:00.000-08:00

You guys should act now, the sale won’t last long. They were down to their last 2 million Sunday. The place is just East of Gilroy on 152.

I picked up two- dozen Army, 36 Fire, a nice variety of Wood Cutter, Black and Slave-Makers for less than twenty bucks.

Don’t say I never did anything for you.

Rectum? It Nearly Killed Him.

2006-12-08T20:39:00.000-08:00

R.I.P Tower Records

2006-11-13T18:47:00.000-08:00

When it was announced recently that Tower Records would be closing I diddn’t give it much thought. Tower will always hold a special place in my life but it had been years since I had been a regular customer. I still listen to as much music as ever but I have been getting it from a variety of other sources including the internet and trading copied cd’s with my music-fanatic friends.

In Sacramento I used to hit all three Tower stores on Saturday afternoon. The Broadway store always had the best import singles, the Watt Ave branch had the best Japanese pressings and you just had to check out the Sunrise location in case something special was stashed away in the cutout bin.

The Import section played a huge part in getting music from the late 70’s British punk bands into the hands of American fans. The first Clash album was released in the UK in three years before it was available in the US and when it was finally made available here, the American label took the liberty of replacing some of the original songs. Elvis Costello’s “My Aim Is True” could be bought at Tower three months before it was issued in this country. His next two albums were available in much different forms as imports and could always be found in the Import bins at Tower.

I had forgotten exactly what made Tower so special and why it will be so deeply missed. This weekend I had an experience that brought the message home to me in an amazing and wonderful way.

I don’t buy music the way most people do. I have rarely listened to the radio to find out about music and I’ve never had MTV or VH1. Most of my musical research has been done by reading. When I read Greil Marcus’s Mystery Train, which is a critical history of American music, I began seeking out the artists he explored in the book. This is how I first came to listen to the music of Robert Johnson, The Band and the Sun Sessions by Elvis among others. I have frequently bought albums by an artist without having heard a single note of their music.

It was also not unusual for me to wander the aisles of the store with absolutely no idea of what I was looking for. Just hunting for something to find. I’ve discovered some amazing music this way including something I came across in Tower Saturday.

I was browsing through the blues section when I saw a cd that intrigued me. On the cover was a blurry, black and white photo of a figure dressed all in white, walking with a guitar. The name on the cd was “The Legendary Marvin Pontiac” and the album said it was his Greatest Hits. I’d never heard of the guy, but I noticed a series of endorsements from famous musicians.

“Marvin would kick your ass for nothing. A true genius, a pure original.”- Iggy Pop
“The innovation and possibility in this music leaves me speechless.”- Beck
“A dazzling collection. It strikes me that Pontiac was so uncontainable prescient that one might think that these tracks had been assembled today.”- David Bowie

“This record changed my life.”- John Lurie

I couldn’t figure out why I’d never heard of the guy. On the back of the cd was a small bio of Pontiac that claimed he had lived in a mental institution and been killed by a bus. How could I have missed something like this? I was hooked though, and bought the cd (along with a copy of Ry Cooder’s Chavez Ravine).

I threw the disc into the cd player as soon as we got home and and was floored by what I heard. Clearly, this was not what it appeared to be. The music was beautiful and weird but it was also quite obviously not the work of a long dead bluesman. The singer is a strange mix between Tom Waits, Robbie Robertson and Captain Beefheart. The music is equally eclectic, part delta blues, part free jazz and some hilarious lyrics like “I’m a doggie/I stink when I’m wet/cause I’m a doggie.”

A quick google search revealed that “Marvin Pontiac” is the alter ego of John Lurie, best known for his work with the Lounge Lizards and as both an actor and musician in Jim Jarmusch films like Mystery Train and Stranger Than Paradise.

Lurie also directed and starred in a series of films called “Fishing With John” that spoof the old “American Sportsman” show which would take celebrities on hunting and fishing trips. Lurie’s version teams him with friends like Matt Dillon, Tom Waits, Jarmusch and Willam Defoe. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. So convincing that it wasn’t until I saw the director’s commentary that I realized the whole thing was a prank.

I had been had by a master and couldn’t be happier about it. The album is one of those rare pieces of music that I just can’t stop listening to. It’s on the Strange and Beautiful Music label and that’s a perfect description of what’s found on the cd.

This is a cd that could never be found in the other music outlets in a town like Fresno. There’s no way it’s going to show up in Best Buy or Circuit City and since we don’t really have any independent stores that means it wouldn’t exist.

It’s a perfect example of what Tower records brought to society. And it’s a perfect example of what will be missing when it goes.

Oversized Baggage

2006-11-08T20:53:00.000-08:00

It shouldn’t take eight hours to fly from Fresno to Boise. The actual flying time is about 2 ½ hours but of course there are no direct flights to anyplace from Fresno. I once tried to book a flight to Reno from Fresno only to discover that my route would take me on a tour of California cities including San Francisco and Sacramento before landing in Reno. In all, it was going to take nine hours to make a trip by air that can be done in less than five by car.

This time the flight to Idaho went through Portland where the layover was supposed to be an hour. Ten minutes before boarding the announcement was made that the plane was still in Seattle and would be 90 minutes late. This was repeated with an additional 45 minute wait before we were finally able to board.

As I walked down the aisle to me seat I passed two incredibly fat people sitting side by side a few rows up from my seat. These two gastropods must have come in at a combined weight of 700 lbs. The male of the species was sitting on the aisle. I mean he was so fat that he spilled out into the aisle and clearly couldn’t be contained. I assumed the two were together, I mean what are the odds of two passengersauri ending up side by side as a result of bad luck?

I heard the guy grumbling about the tight fit and saying things like “ gee , they must be really trying to save money with these seats”. And I’m thinking, no, it’s more like the fact that you weigh more than most zoo animals and you’re trying to squeeze into a cookie cutter.

It became obvious that something was keeping the plane from taking off and I could see the crew holding a conference near the front. An announcement was made that the departure was being delayed because of a “cargo loading problem”. My first thought was that this meant my oversized, rolling cart loaded with about $10,000 of camera gear (someone elses camera gear, by the way) was about to be chucked from the plane and onto the tarmac. It became evident that the problem was more of human one when the crew came down the aisle and began ‘redistributing the cargo’, which in this case meant putting one lard ass on each side of the plane rather than having the aircraft lean to the right during the entire flight.

To me, this has to be one of those moments of clarity for the excess baggage. I mean, if you’re so fat that your presence on a plane puts the other passengers lives in danger, I think it’s time to cut back on the Cheeze Whiz-stuffed, deep fried Oreos for a while.

Shit, when my camera gear tops a certain weight, the airlines don’t hesitate to charge me an extra $50-75 so why not charge a passenger more for weighing over a certain amount.

I’ve been saying for a while that instead of checking everyone’s shoes and making people take off their belt before flying the airlines should just make everyone fly naked. Now, this could have some serious shortcomings because like a visit to any nude beach will prove, it’s not always the people you want to see naked who want to be seen naked. Still, something tells me it would cut down on the kind of cargo loading issues that popped up on the flight to Boise.

Kiss For Sale

2006-10-31T23:11:00.000-08:00

I photographed Gene Simmons this week. The lizard-tongued bassist from Kiss was in town hawking a new Kiss fragrance at a local mall. Fans who paid $36 got a bottle of Kiss stink, a handshake with their hero and a photograph of themselves with the man himself. Fans lined up for hours, many dressed in Kiss t-shirts and sporting as many mullets as a pro wrestling crowd. It was an odd mix of people, all white with quite a few parents in their 40’s who brought along their teenagers.

Gene Simmons is one of the great hucksters of all time. This is a guy who would sell anything if he thought someone would buy it. You can buy Kiss coffins, Kiss coffee, Kiss condoms and on a recent episode of his reality show “The Family Jewels” he talked seriously of selling bull semen with the Kiss logo on the container. He’s about money and proud of it.

I arrived at the store and worked my way through a crowd of about 1000 fans and then past three levels of security to find Gene standing on a stage, Kiss music blasting away as he posed and signed.

I stood in front of the stage and began shooting when all of a sudden Simmons stopped what he was doing and stared right at me. He pointed and then called me to the front of the stage where he leaned over and whispered “ You’re late, where have you been? I’ve been kissing beautiful women for an hour and you weren’t here to capture it.”

I started to walk away but he had more to say. “And don’t take pictures of me with the old one’s either, nobody wants to see me with an old women when all these young, nubile ladies are here.” I went back to my spot and started to shoot again as he greeted a women in her 40’s. From behind the women I could see Simmons pointing to her and then looking at me as if to say “ Don’t shoot this, she’s too old.”

Now serving half pints

2006-10-11T23:46:00.000-07:00

I call this picture “ Multi-colored Mexican soda bottles in the window of a taco place at Shields and Weber in Fresno on a Wednesday afternoon in October at 3:18.”

Spent Tuesday night shooting the Lakers and Utah Jazz in an exhibition game with my friend Gary. Sitting on one side of us were the Laker Girls, which caused Gary to miss much of the on court action and on the other side was a midget photographer. Guess which one I was drawn to?

Speaking of which, midget wrestling is coming to town Friday.

http://www.halfpintbrawlers.com/

It looks like I’ll have to miss it, which is a shame considering my history with the wee folk. After all, I did attend their national convention a few years back.

My Tit Itches

2006-10-04T21:53:00.000-07:00

I really should wear pants when I use the jackhammer.

The Church of the Latter Day Elvi

2006-09-06T17:32:00.000-07:00

Those two great American icons Jesus and Elvis have found a meeting place at a Catholic church in Selma, Ca. Although he claims he never does a mass dressed as the King, the priest is often in Elvis mode, tightly packed into the white suit he bought on the internet. He swivels and waddles his way through church picnics and fundraisers like some sort of Holy Hillbilly.

They say the Lord works in mysterious ways but I say Elvis works in even more mysterious ways. Wouldn’t it make more sense that a priest would dress up as Jesus than Elvis? Yet, I can’t remember the last Jesus impersonator I saw. Elvis impersonators grow on trees. It won’t be long before Christmas is replaced by Elvis’s birthday as the nations’s biggest holiday. You only have 65 more shopping days before E Day.

Messiah’s come and messiahs go but there will never be another Elvis. He even named his house Graceland.

Donner...Party Of Six

2006-08-09T23:16:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a new book by Bill Buford ( author of the great soccer hooligan book Among the Thugs) called “Heat” about fine cooking and the lives of some of the more flamboyant chefs of the world.

This has got me to thinking about food of course but also which of my friends I would be most likely eat in case of a sudden rise in the popularity of cannibalism (it WILL happen my friends).

I now present my case for and against several of my longtime pals. If you are not on the list, don’t despair, this is only a dinner menu, dessert is still to come.

And now for our choices tonight.

Thor:

Pros: Mormon upbringing makes this familiar territory for our fair haired father of two.

Cons: Broken limbs in motorcycle accident may have caused permanent stress on delicate white meat, especially in breast and thigh areas.

Tony:

Pro: Tends to be well fed and in natural state is usually free range.

Cons: Chorizo, malt vinegar and curry do not mix. Imported meat under far less scrutiny than domestic.

Kaz:

Pros: When properly cooked, meat literally falls off the bones.

Con: Plucking can often take days.

Donnell:

Pros: Once had sex with a bald women.

Cons: Once had sex with a bald women.

Lane:

Pros: Bathes with clam chowder.

Cons: Long-term effects of intercourse with plastic sheep is still under investigation.

Mark:

Pros: Tastes like chicken.

Cons: Nicknamed Pooter. Has expressed recent concern with his uncontrollable fecal delivery system.

I haven’t yet made my choice. It is possible, of course, that I shall choose none of the above and instead indulge in the tasty, white meat of my own succulent flesh.

Fried Mood

2006-07-24T00:25:00.000-07:00

I hate hot weather. I thought I was getting used to it but the past two or three weeks of brutal heat has kicked me in the nuts with reality and cured me like a Honey Baked ham.

I stayed inside all day Saturday doing things to myself with ice cubes that usually require a medical license and when I finally emerged from my sunless bunker at 9:30 PM it was 108 degrees outside. The low temperature at 5 AM was 90. This is wrong.

I think it’s important to blame someone for this climatic serial killer who’s stalking us day and night. The obvious choice would be our mentally disturbed president which wouldn’t be wrong but I’m opting for a more local assassin. My enemy in this war is one of the local weather broads. Don’t know her personally and don’t care to but this women made a decision a few weeks back that has come to haunt our days and nights like a mutant strain of diarrhea taking hold at the annual Kiwanis Chili Fest/Monster Truck Rally in Bakersfield.

One night I’m watching the news and her last name is, well, that's not important but the next night she’s going by the last name Toasty. Ok, she got married but you don’t have to change your name, understand? Since the name change the temperatures have gone apeshit. It’s pretty clear who’s fault this is so please, please change your name before people begin bursting into flames on the streets.

In an effort to find some relief from the heat, I joined up with a couple friends and headed into the mountains for a day of fishing. Our first stop, a Dinky Creek, which sits at 5600 feet provided little break from the pain. We fished for a couple of hours with only a couple of small fish landed. We kept hiking downstream for mile or so but everywhere we stopped we found half naked fat people and their kids wallowing in some of our favorite fishing holes.

We climbed up and down some steep hills only to be greeted by more hillbillies. By the time we found unmolested water, the sun was beating off the white granite like a three dollar whore yanking off a drunken district attorney. We were drinking water like crazy and still couldn’t come to terms with the heat so we made the hot climb back to the road so we could make a new plan.

We broke down our gear, rehydrated and began driving up the mountain in search of cooler air. Ten or twelve miles up the road we stopped to take a look at a small creek in a campground called Buck Meadow, which sounded like a porn stars name to me, and a good reason to take a look. The creek had a nice and quite visible population of wild trout so we broke out the gear again and started fishing. Their were a few clouds overhead and the temperatures were at least 10 degrees cooler and the creek was lined with trees.

We split up and fished for more than an hour, the fish were typical of small creeks, 7-12 inches and quite hungry for anything that looked like a bug. Eric caught 4 or five and Joe and I each landed 2 trout. At one point I met up with Eric and pointed out that the clouds moving in from the east looked pretty ominous and we could hear thunder. The wind picked up, the thunder became more frequent and it was obvious we were going to get rained on so we broke down and decided to find Joe and have lunch before the storm hit.

By now the temperature had dropped even more and it actually began to feel nice. We finished up lunch just as the rain began to start and decided to enjoy the change in weather and drive even higher up the mountain to 8000 feet. Summer storms are common in the mountains and they usually hit hard and fast, dumping heavy rain and hail for no more than 20 minutes before moving on.

As we drove the rain got harder and harder until it pounded the car so much that we couldn’t hear each other talk. We kept expecting the storm to pass but it got heavier and heavier. We drove to a lake above 8000 feet and after doing a quick recon mission for future fishing turned around and started down the hill. At one point the car’s outside thermometer read 58 degrees. It began hailing and the rain kept coming. After more than an hour the downpour stopped and we pulled into a gas station in Shaver Lake where I called Anna. “It’s 62 degrees and just stopped pouring,” I said. “What’s it like down in Fresno”? “It’s 113 degrees, “ she answered.

To put this in perspective, Shaver lake is 50 miles from Fresno. By the time we has driven down the four lane highway back to the valley just16 miles. the temperature had risen from 62 to 100. By the time we got home at 9:30 it was down to a Toasty 104.

Heck On Wheels

2006-07-06T01:15:00.000-07:00

Madera Skate is located in an old warehouse on the county fairgrounds right next door to the big dirt moron magnet that goes by the name Madera Raceway. You know the kind of place I’m talking about, the kind of place where guys who seem to have been born with greasy oil stains on their face and limbs get drunk and watch oversized go carts drive in circles for three hours every Saturday night.

None of that inside the metal walls of Madera Skate though. Monday’s and Friday’s it’s home to the local women’s roller derby team. What happens in this place the rest of the week is somewhat of a mystery, though a sign on the wall near the men’s room announces that Wednesday night is “Christian Night.

Apparently the owners of the facility are either members of a liberal sect or they really need the money the team pays to rent the joint because a similar place in Fresno banned the team after the owners caught a glimpse of some of the ladies tattoos.

It’s pretty much the same sport that we all watched on tv when were kids, The Kansas City Bombers and LA T-Birds seemed to be the only two teams that ever played but there must have been others.

The new version seems to be more Suicide Girl than prison matron but the skaters do come in all shapes and sizes. The ladies do sport nicknames that seem to come right from old school pro wrestling like “Goodie Two Bruise” and “Nancy Knuckle Cruncher”. ¬¬¬¬¬
The women were friendly but something told me that like the Hells Angels you wouldn’t want to hurl an insult at one of them unless you felt like having the holy shit roller-stomped out of you by the entire pack.

For such a violent game, the atmosphere at the practices is fairly mild. Some of the skaters bring their boyfriends and husbands, one of whom was doing his finance homework while waiting. Several of the women brought their kids, who were far more annoying than any adults in the building.

I’ve always thought roller skating was kind of stupid but then I’d only ever seen kiddie skates and this Godawful event they have in Fresno every year called the National Roller Skating Championships. It’s three-day international event that features a group of candy assed dandies and their teenage girl- beards prancing around an arena on roller skates to really crappy music. Imagine not even being cool enough to “compete” in ice skating and you have an idea of how fucking ridiculous the whole concept is.

So what I’d like to see is one of these roller derby teams crash the National Roller Skating Championships and skatter some of these ponces like bowling pins, throwing elbows and stomping on $700 skating outfits with their dirty wheels.

Can I Get An Amen?
I Said, Can I Get An Amen?

I'd Swear It Mentions Cockfighting

2006-06-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

WANTED

2006-06-22T00:51:00.000-07:00

Police Say The Suspect Is Heavily Armed.

Republicans, Christians Fatter Than Normal People

2006-06-10T22:52:00.000-07:00

STUDY: Republicans, Christians Fatter Than Normal People.

A study just released by the Federation of American Teachers Shepherds and Osteopaths (FATSO) provides startling evidence that members of the Republican party and all followers of Christ are 97% more likely to be obese than normal people.

The study, which spanned a 30 year period ending in December 2005 has provided mixed, and somewhat surprising reactions among members of the groups taking part in the research.

“I’m not surprised at all,” said Rev Neeander Thall of the Glorious Whole Life of Christ (or Glory Whole, as it’s better known) in Clovis, Ca. “In fact anyone who knows the bible is fully aware of the frequent references to “Abundant Life. It’s right there after the part where it says homosexuality is evil and Harry Potter is the adopted son of Satan,”he said.

“What in God’s name do you think that means,” said Rev Thall. “I’ll tell what it means you Taliban-loving heathen” he said as he gestured to a reporter. “It means, by God, we’re supposed to eat until our thighs rub together like two lesbian strippers at Jimmy Swaggart’s Easter party.That’s what it means.”

Thall went on to say that he also believes skinny people are tools of the devil and should be “fattened up or thrown out.”

Alabama Reublican senator Harry Sax, well known for his controversial attempt to ban the use of the word “balls” in all sporting events, told a newspaper Thursday that he felt the Abundant Life theory also held an answer to the nations immigration problems.

“Hell,” said the 368 lb former police chief, whose friends call him “Booger”, “I mean have you ever eaten a 10 year old Honduran boy”. “I’m telling ya Bubba, it’s like a tender mix of beef jerky, mango and chili peppers. It’s kinda tropical. Goes well with a nice glass o’ rum on those warm summer evenings,” he chortled.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Sax,” people in this country start changing their goddamn diet and we ain’t got a immigration problem. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Say son,” said Sax to a reporter, “all this talk of food’s making me kinda peckish. What you say you and me go get some lunch? I feel like some Mexican."

Why Why Why?

2006-06-09T00:18:00.000-07:00

I spent three hours standing on hot blacktop in 98 degree heat waiting to spend five minutes photographing Arnold Schwarzenegger as he gladhanded a crowd of morons. Most of the people in the crowd had no idea of his politics but instead were there to see a “movie star”. One douchebag told me that he had no idea what party Arnold was in but that he is proud of the fact that “Our governor can kick the ass of every other governor.”

Ahh yes, the future is indeed bright for this state.

My Night With Madonna or Where All the Gay Men in Fresno Were Monday Night

2006-06-06T13:22:00.000-07:00

I photographed a Madonna concert Monday night and while I’m no fan of her music the evening was entertaining. I saw more limousines and gay men than I’ve ever seen in Fresno. It was like the Gay Pope was in town and everyone wanted to kiss her ring.

I was allowed to shoot the first 4 songs before I was tapped on the shoulder by my minder and led off the floor of the arena. Most acts only allow 2 or 3 songs to be photographed so I guess I should be thankful for the extra song, which saw Madonna riding a huge stripper pole with a leather saddle over the crowd.

Anytime you shoot one of these big concerts you have to deal with all sorts of uptight PR people who are paranoid that you’re going to illegally photograph or record the show. Most acts require you to sign a waiver which makes it illegal to sell the pictures or post them on any websites other than the media outlet that assigned you to the show. Madonna’s “people” however were very cool and never asked me to sign anything and even sent me a press release telling me exactly how far from the stage I would be and what songs I would be photographing. I would prefer to be cut loose to wander as I please but that’s never going to happen so you just have to take what’s given.

Still, there are always Spinal Tap moments at these things and last night was no exception. As the first PR person was taking me from the lobby of the arena to my shooting position we were stopped by a man mountain of a security guy who informed the PR person that “she diddn’t have escort privileges” and couldn’t take me backstage and onto the floor of the arena. It took a series of calls on her walkie talkie, several whispered conversations with various official looking folk before we were finally cleared to make the 30 second trip through the forbidden zone known as backstage and to my final resting place near the sound board.

Once at my shooting spot I discovered that they had me standing on a platform above the level of the crowd, which was good for me but clearly not good for the people in the seats behind me. They were understandably a little upset that their $300 seats were located directly behind a 6 foot 5 photographer on an elevated platform. If it had been a heavy metal concert I may have been used for a punching bag but Madonna fans are far more polite than they should be. Other than a few “down in front” comments the most I heard from them was “ Ahh, say, just for my information are you going to be standing here all night?”

My favorite picture of the night wasn’t published. Madonna holding a guy in a dog collar on a leash was apparently too much for readers of the Central Valley. Too bad, I think that’s exactly what the average local family should see while eating breakfast.

Shiver Me Timbers And Blow Me Down

2006-06-02T21:24:00.000-07:00

NASCAR is a form of mental retardation which can only be cured by a fiery death.

Next Time Pray For Sunny Skies

2006-05-31T21:35:00.000-07:00

Woman Hit By Lightning While Praying

POSTED: 2:52 pm EDT May 30, 2006
DAPHNE, Ala. -- Worried about the safety of her family during a stormy Memorial Day trip to the beach, Clara Jean Brown stood in her kitchen and prayed for their safe return as a strong thunderstorm rumbled through Baldwin County, Alabama.
But while she prayed, lightning suddenly exploded, blowing through the linoleum and leaving a blackened area on the concrete. Brown wound up on the floor, dazed and disoriented by the blast but otherwise uninjured.
She said 'Amen' and the room was engulfed in a huge ball of fire. The 65-year-old Brown said she is blessed to be alive.
Firefighters said its likely she was hit by a bolt of lightning that apparently struck outside and traveled into the house yesterday afternoon. She was found lying on the floor by her 14-year-old granddaughter.
Fire officials think the lightning likely struck across the street from the couple's home and traveled into the house through a water line. The lightning continued into the couple's backyard and ripped open a small trench.
A family member said he will no longer assume it is safe to be indoors during a lightning strike.
Dime-sized hail and wind gusts of up to 45 miles-per-hour moved across coastal Baldwin County. As much as three inches of rain fell in some areas in three hours.

There's no need to even comment on the previous story other that to say, It's about time.

Fishing With The Dark Prince

2006-05-29T18:33:00.000-07:00

I spent Sunday fishing with Eric and Joe. Funny how two people can have such different memories of an event.

Joe sent this email to another friend who was unable to go with us.

"You really missed it.

I had wondered off from Kurt and Eric to check on a pool of fish I had thought I spotted from the car as we pulled up to the stream. When the pool didn't turn out to be anything special I thought it would be best to return to the location of Kurt and Eric. I'm glad I did.

As I round the bend, I see Kurt and Eric both trapped, no wait, cornered by a huge grizzly with a few of her cubs behind her. I had no time to be scared or think of my own safety Carey or else it would have been curtains for my two friends.

I picked up the closest thing I could find which was a stick about three feet long and about two inches thick. With stick in hand, I threw myself between the bear and my friends, who by now were crying and huddled together about to be bear food.

What ensued, was not pretty.

For the better part of an hour the grizzly and I tussled, russled and scuffled.

I'm not proud of killing that bear with my bare hands in front of the baby cubs Carey, but I did what I had to do to save my friends.

As for the foster cubs, I have them, at my condo now. I'm nursing them with baby bottles I bought at the store and warm soy milk. I think I will raise them and this is based entirely on the huge amount of guilt I have for killing their mother (with my bare hands, the stick broke).

The reason behind telling you this is twofold.

1) Your friends, my friends, Eric and Kurt, are alive and well. They will live on to take more news photos.

B) I have chosen to name the bear cubs. At first their names were to be Eric and Kurt, but I noticed one of the cubs was a girl-cub. So, I have now decided to name one of the cubs, the girl-cub, Carey. In your honor. The second cub will be named after my favorite baseball player of all time, Yogi.

I'm sorry you had to stay home Carey. Next time?"

Joe "papa bear" Hollak

And now, the truth.

Wow, I've always wondered what it would be like to walk (or hike) among the mentally disurbed but now I know.

First off, Joe spent the entire drive up the mountain popping pills and filling the cab of the truck with talk of devil worship, pornography and the joys of shopping at Wal-Mart.

Eric and I just pretended to go along, knowing full well that it's best just to let these things play themselves out before taking action.

We said nothing when, after arriving at our first destination of the day, Joe jumped from the car, stripped naked and covered his body with a thick layer of Vaseline. (Memo to Joe: get that thing on your chest checked by a doctor. I don't care what you say, that thing is NOT a nipple, in fact, I swear I caught it winking at Eric when his back was turned)

Eric and I gathered our materials, bibles, prayer cloths, annointing oils and portable confession booth etc, and headed for a nice meadow to do God's work for the day. Joe, or "Damien" as we'd taken to calling him by then, seemed to be happily occupied by throwing rocks at a group of disabled, albino children at a nearby camp.

Eric and were nearing our second hour of praising Him and sharing the Word with some Romanian pilgrims we had met earlier when, from across the meadow we heard a horrible screeching sound that reminded me of the time I saw a naked lawyer fall into a pit of rabid sandcrabs.

We turned and looked and saw "Damien" charging across the meadow toward us, yelling in what was clearly some ancient form of a dark language, understood only by those who've undergone years of horrible and highly secret ritualistic workshops.

We barely had time to react, he was moving much quicker than a man of his carriage should have been able to and he was carrying what appeared to be a large tree branch. It was only later, when the mace kicked in that we were able to get a close look at the weapon and see that he'd been trying to carve the branch into what appeared to be a crude pitchfork.

For some reason, he headed right for the Romanian men, who were paralyzed with fear. He began clubbing the poor bastards over their heads and then tried to wrestle them to the ground. The men fought like champs and as Eric and I tried to tear him from his prey I remembered the can of mace I had in my pack. It's always a good idea to carry protection with you and the can of "chemical billly club" did it's job. Within seconds, Damien was curled up in a ball with the dry heaves, sobbing like a girl scout.

As the mace began to subside, we heard Damien croak out what sounded like a dying man whispering the word "Grizzly, grizzly, must kill grizzly".

It tooks us a while to figure out what the poor, gasping heap of evil was saying but then Eric figured it out.

The poor, satan-infected son of a bitch had mistaken the Romanians for grizzly bears. In his state of mind, the shirtless, hirsute euro-pilgrims looked exactly like giant, killer bears. He was trying to save us, not kill us.

Still, there was no way in hell we were carrying this crazy fuck all the way back to Fresno with us. Instead, we made a deal with the Romanians to leave him in their custody in exchange for eternal salvation.

So, if he's claiming he has them at home and he's "nursing" them, just realize that these are three, very hairy, slightly overweight eastern european railroad workers we're talking about.

Two more things while i'm at it.
1. When Joe aka Damien, says he's got fins, don't as I did, assume he means swim fins. He actually has fins on his back. My memory of high school biology is a bit foggy but I believe this is known as the dorsal fin.

2. I left a little "gift" in Joe's waders. It's a time release device so next time he slips into his rubber pants, make sure to stay upwind and away from any open flame.

Remember, it's Yawaeh, or the Highway...

A Grizzly Dream

2006-05-23T21:55:00.000-07:00

I had a dream. In it my friend Tony was eaten by a grizzly bear. We were on some sort of outing in the mountains and Tony dove into the river like a Mexican sea otter. Just as he went under the water, a fucking huge grizzly bear stood up from the river and in one giant gulp, ate him.

Tony's wife and son were there as was my wife and all we could say was 'Wow, I diddn't know there were any grizzly bears left in California."

I don't have a picture of Tony handy but here's one of Edward James Olmos. It's the best i could do on short notice.

Bring back radio

2006-05-22T21:10:00.000-07:00

Is there anything Bob Dylan can’t do? In addition to the genius that is his musical career, Dylan established himself as a great literary mind with the publication of his autobiography Chronicles last year and now he’s making a claim as a master of radio. His new weekly XM radio show Theme Time Radio is the best thing on the air.

Each show has a theme, the first three have been Drinking, Weather and Mothers (for mother’s day) with Dylan choosing the music and adding between song stories and jokes like “I read that drinking’s bad for you so I decided to stop reading.”

Dylan’s musical selections are eclectic. He’s played tunes by Judy Garland, Buck Owens, LL. Cool J, Dean Martin, The Clancy Brothers and Muddy Waters. He doesn’t just play the songs, he offers little tidbits of information about the artists that could only come from a fan and he frequently recites the lyrics as if they were his own.

It’s a real joy to hear and reminds me of how much I miss real radio. And by the way, If you don’t want to pay for XM radio just search the internet a bit for places you can download the shows. As I see it, the only flaw in this whole thing is that it’s not free. Unless you do a little online research.

When Patriots Sell Their Shit

2006-05-17T00:15:00.000-07:00

Thanks for telling us, because without the sign I'd just assume that you were selling the same soiled mattresses and used car batteries that everyone else sells in their front yard. And thanks too for being so proud of your nation's flag. I'll bet you love Jesus too.

...Why do people keep referring to the sex “act”? Act? What the fuck are they talking about? When I hear the word act, I’m imagining some guy balancing on one foot while standing on a red wooden chair and juggling frozen turkeys while a midget sets fire to a stack of children’s bibles with circus music playing in the background.

And if it’s an act there better be an intermission, programs for sale in the lobby and if the performance warrants it, a standing ovation.

...The fewer limbs a person has, the more likely they are to be religious.

...After a really good shit I sometimes feel like playing mumbley-peg

2006-05-13T16:11:00.000-07:00

Pray for Bird Flu.

Hump This or Journalism Version 2006

2006-05-12T13:11:00.000-07:00

In an effort to share some insight into the inner workings of news gathering I would like to tell you how I spent part of my Thursday.

One of my five assignments was to make photographs for a story about a family that held a birthday party for their one-year old at a local children's park only to find that the park was in need of repair and this upset them. In particular, the parents remembered a giant Humpty Dumpty from their childhood which was no longer on display. They decided to donate $20,000 to the park and just like magic it is a news story.

I met the family at the park and along with someone from the parks department I asked to see the Humpty Dumpty (from this point on to be referred to as Mr. Dumpty) which was being held captive in what they called "the bone yard". I explained that I wanted to shoot a picture of the family with Mr Dumpty but the guy from the park and the family insisted that Dumpty was in bad shape and that they really diddn't want their picture taken with him while he was in that kind of shape. One of those "We would rather remember him as he was, not as he is" things I guess.

I insisted on at least seeing Mr. Dumpty so I could at least get a mug shot of the poor guy and they led me into the bone yard. I made a few pictures of the giant egg and then out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something even better. An abandoned tea cup ride with a pair of legs sticking out the top called to me. I began shooting which made the parks guy nervous. "Say, eh, that's not going to be in the paper now is it", he said. "I thought this was about the donation, let's go over to the sign in front of the park and get that group shot."

I told him the picture was for my Christmas card and shot for a couple more minutes before we all were herded out of the bone yard and I shot the family in front of the sign picture that will actually run in the paper.

2006-05-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

People keep telling me I should blog. I'm not sure I'll have the discipline to keep at this but for now I'll give it a try. The word blogging just sounds funny to me. It sounds like something that you would do after a bout with a dozen chili-cheese dogs and a six-pack of warm beer. "Dude, I'm having trouble walking today, I was in the bathroom all night blogging."

Speaking of skulls why is it that no one ever describes a persons physical appearance by commenting on their head? Just once I'd like to hear a guy describe a women by saying "That chick has the sexiest cranium I've ever seen. I' mean just check out that frontal lobe. Can you imagine what her medulla oblongata must look like?

Is it just me who thinks the crucifixion should come back in style?

Let's quit fooling ourselves and start making all toilet paper brown.

I need food.