Day 250
Friday January 23rd
We were suppose to go out tonight. Instead BamBam and I had a staring contest to see who fell asleep first. I am not quite certain who won cause I nodded off before it could be determined but I think I had him by a wink....
Before hand we had tried to watch The Devil & Daniel Johnson but fell asleep half way through. It seemed like a really cool doc. I was trying hard to fight off the nods butt my eyes seemed to pay me no mind. I would be really into a scene and the next thing I knew my chin was bouncing off my chest. Finally I just gave in and submitted to the nightly inevitable.
Coach surfing takes a lot out of you when done continuously. It rarely feels like you are getting enough rest, especially if you have a "normal" life. When I say normal I mean the whole work thing, freelance thing, dating thing, documentary thing, non-partying, uber-responsibility thing. Couch surfing is a great gift of generosity. It can be a real treat when you are driving cross the grand ole US of A or backpacking across Europe or island hopping in the Caribbean or ski bumming in Aspen or beach bumming in San Diego or..., well you get the point. When each day is an adventure and each day you are on vacation, couch surfing can be pretty chill. When you gotta get up at the butt crack of dawn and go to work every day, sleeping on someone's living room floor or back porch or whatever isn't advantageous to a well rested evening. But it does the trick. You get used to it soon enough. And you are always grateful regardless. It always beats squishing yourself into the backseat of the Focus on a raining night parked in an alley behind an abandoned warehouse! Yup beats it hands down.
Friday January 23rd
We were suppose to go out tonight. Instead BamBam and I had a staring contest to see who fell asleep first. I am not quite certain who won cause I nodded off before it could be determined but I think I had him by a wink....
Before hand we had tried to watch The Devil & Daniel Johnson but fell asleep half way through. It seemed like a really cool doc. I was trying hard to fight off the nods butt my eyes seemed to pay me no mind. I would be really into a scene and the next thing I knew my chin was bouncing off my chest. Finally I just gave in and submitted to the nightly inevitable.
Coach surfing takes a lot out of you when done continuously. It rarely feels like you are getting enough rest, especially if you have a "normal" life. When I say normal I mean the whole work thing, freelance thing, dating thing, documentary thing, non-partying, uber-responsibility thing. Couch surfing is a great gift of generosity. It can be a real treat when you are driving cross the grand ole US of A or backpacking across Europe or island hopping in the Caribbean or ski bumming in Aspen or beach bumming in San Diego or..., well you get the point. When each day is an adventure and each day you are on vacation, couch surfing can be pretty chill. When you gotta get up at the butt crack of dawn and go to work every day, sleeping on someone's living room floor or back porch or whatever isn't advantageous to a well rested evening. But it does the trick. You get used to it soon enough. And you are always grateful regardless. It always beats squishing yourself into the backseat of the Focus on a raining night parked in an alley behind an abandoned warehouse! Yup beats it hands down.
Day 249
Thursday January 22nd
The Warmer
With a free evening to do whatever I could not wait to run out and bang off a few more frames with the new camera. I was like a kid at Christmas! The last hour at work killed me. I think I photo'd everything in sight 42 times-- the keyboard, the phone, the ceiling tiles, the coffee stains on the carpet, my toes, etc. Finally it was half past 5 and I was free to play! First things first though, I had to run over to a friend's photo exhibit opening. It was cool to see everything printed in large format and hanging in a gallery. After a few hours of pleasantries and polite small talk again I was free to play! We decided to hit up a locl sports bar the Bench Warmer. It is a dive bar in a way, but not in the cool over-priced hollywood sorta' way that has come into fashion altely. It is a true dive bar in every sense of the beatnick- blue collar- beer and a shot-Working Man's Dead sort of way.
Stale beer, loud locals, wife beaters, sticky floors, cigar smoke, Rick the colorfully & comically charasmatic bartender (who knows everyone, their drink, and their wife), the best juke box in town, dark corners where patrons discuss communism/hedonism/commercial fishing (yes, no, go go go)/the Lakers/Ford vs. Chevy/Freud vs. Adler (often at the same time), and tons and tons of really crappy lighting-- it was the perfect spot to run the new camera through its paces. I wanted to push it to 11, open 'er up and see what this baby was made of-- in a very photomorphic kind of way of course!
Well okay there is me, I was there. That is a given.
Sara was there too.
And Ash-hole!
And Ash-hole's tongue, trying to lick her elbow(?). Okay don't mock it til you try it!
Vice Vickford, world champion dart hurler & internationally renowned porn star was there. (At this point you are probably wondering who wasn't.)
Vice lines up his shot, quiet in the gallery please.
BamBam and his dart prowess or lack of it was also there.
Of course "Saron" made an appearance. Note: photo by someone other then me. Process of elimination leads me to think either Ash-hole or BamBam.
BamBam was there then all of a sudden wasn't quite there. See children this is what drinking Coors Light will do you for!
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