Slow ride, take it easy or Tampa Critical Mass

The weather was perfect on Friday night so I decided force my self off of the couch and into the Tampa Critical Mass ride.

I caught the pack on Tampa Street. About 50 bike enthusiasts riding all manner of two wheeled contraption were meandering through downtown with bells ringing and voices yelling out to declare the greatness of the bicycle.

The pace was slow and easy. The air was cool almost crisp.

I didn't finish the ride but I stayed with it through Ybor, there's just something special about the feeling you get riding down seventh in the middle of a bike pack...

After ditching the ride I soon discovered how hard it is to find beer in the wide open urban nowhere that makes up the space between Ybor and downtown.

Cruising aimlessly on my search I stopped to ask a rough looking vagrant if he new where I could get some cold brews. "The store," he said and vaguely pointed down a dark and scary street.

He was right and cold 12-pack of Keystone's finest light lager was mine. I packed it into my bag, handed two beers to the homeless guys in front of the store and rode back to reward the vagrant for his tip.

With nine beers weighing heavy on my back I pedaled off to Cafe Hey to quench my thirst and watch the first presidential debate.

Fun times...

Tired now.

Maybe Orpheum tonight. Who knows?

Double Dose

Here are two videos that really inspire me. The first is sort of uplifting the second is sort of depressing. Watch them in whatever order you want... I highly recommend Ted. If you are ever bored watch this, I promise it's better than any antics you might see on YouTube.

Catching up (guts full of Cuban delicious. Sort of bullets)

As I mentioned I might in the previous post, I did indeed go to 1905 Day at the Columbia and it was magical...



The lines were long, stretching around the the side of the restaurant in double file and were populated mostly by gray haired Cuban food enthusiasts and every brand of yokel (I mean this in the most sensitive way) you could possibly imagine.

Forty minutes of gawking at the distant doorway and muttering expletives was rewarded with a small ticket that allowed us to come back three hours later and enjoy turn of the century pricing.

The food was incredible and the sangria flowed like water. After about two hours of forcing massive piles of black beans and rice, hot fresh Cuban bread, and special 1905 salads down our throats we were ready to roll away dazed and content.

Outside the air was warm and the edges of the day seemed to have softened. A Zen like calm had descended over the world, the silence was a beautiful poem. The Columbia is an incredible place, transcendent in a way. I know I'll be back there... for 1905 Day next year (what can I say, I'm cheap).

But...

That was Sunday and now Tuesday is almost over and I'm running the risk of becoming complacent with my posts. So here are some bullet points in homemade shorthand:

Monday - Interview with the St. Petersburg Times for a job as an editorial assistant. I might use my degree for something after all. Aimless Walking through downtown at lunch hour, coffee sipping and lazy glances at the world of downtown Tampa professionalism. Naps and casual reads. Sleepover.

Today - French pressed coffee and backseat Jaguar rides. Procrastination in the form of apartment cleaning and organizing. Bike rides in the sweet heat of fading summer/early fall. Errands. Meetings with German couchsurfers who are calling my floor home for tonight. Graduation from hospice class (soon I will be meeting with the near dead). And off to liter night to guzzle some sort of delicious brew.

See you in between sips?

Back in Tampa

The two day hiatus was rough for all of us I know, but now I'm officially back in town and ready to... go nuts? Party? Errr who knows what this crazy city will throw at me.

Instead of posting a blog last night I sat on a beat up plastic chair in the parking lot outside of my place with my best friend and a 4-pack of 16 oz. bottles of Bud heavy.

It was a wonderful evening, possibly the perfect way to herald my return from the world of corporate award snapshots. We talked and laughed and reminisced over the events of the past three days. It was eventful indeed, a lot happens when you try to push the limits of your liver and social acceptability every night (har har har).

But really there's a lot to be said for skipping a night on the town and instead tipping back a couple of cold ones with a close friend. Think about it next time your about to head out to the club. Instead of dropping $20 on an evening of smokey bars and loose women (or men) drop $5 on cheap beer and talk about the stuff that really matters or doesn't... you might like it.

Anyway tonight you might find me at Orpheum trying my best to drown in cheap booze (gin and pineapple is delicious I promise). Tomorrow I'm going to brave the long lines for 1905 day at the Columbia. They're lowering their prices to the levels they were at when they first opened. Count me in for $.95 glasses of Sangria and $1.95 fancy salads...

And here's the picture...



It's my first ever invoice (I feel like a real professional now) covered in gold coins, cash and rupees. I hear rituals like this are the only real way to succeed in this tough business. I hope so, I need all the help I can get.

Resurrection

Sweat. Grease. Rust. Three things that I was covered in this afternoon when I decided it would be a good idea to try and bring some ancient beach cruisers back into the world of the living.

After a couple hours of of struggling with what I think were the first pair of pliers ever invented (the only tool I could find) I managed to get one of the three bikes to sort of work. Yay for slow going early nineties beach bikes!

Today was also day two of the previously mentioned photo assignment. This was the big night. The put up or shut up. The show. The end all be all. Really, it was just dinner at a local hotel with some pseudo important delegates giving speeches about the impact of Main Street associations in Florida and handing out various awards.

Not quite an island side fashion shoot for Elle or a mountain trek expedition for REI but I may be on my way...

The light was friendly to me today. I managed to bounce it just right so that the wrinkles in my geriatric subjects were smoothed to a creamy veneer. Smiles popped and teeth glistened as the shutter clicked and clicked. It was magical in a way. Well I guess it really wasn't but much less stressful then yesterday.

Tomorrow it's a few hours in front of the laptop, picking up a paycheck and then boarding the good old Greyhound back to Tampa just in time for Pulp.

Maybe I'll see you out there, time for me to go to bed...

Limits?

Today was the first day of my second ever paying gig as a photographer. It's a simple assignment. Nothing too crazy (unlike what my photo idol has been up to) just candid shots of people milling about at a Florida Main Street Association function.

I thought it would be easy enough but in fact it was a bit more difficult than I expected. Armed with my good old XTi and my clunker 285HV I strolled boldly into the breach of silver haired cocktail holding event goers and started popping off frames.

The lighting was overhead tungsten, a bit low but it didn't seem too challenging but when I looked down at my LCD the results were less than fantastic. I just couldn't seem to find the exposure balance that I needed. When I finally did start getting something to work the crowd was already moving on to watch awards being handed out.

I have yet to check the results on a bigger screen but I'm a little worried. I need to be faster and more accurate with my settings. The 285HV is challenging because it doesn't synch automatically with my camera so getting the light right is all up to me... Ho hum. Whine whine.

Tomorrow is another day and I'll have another opportunity to make this better. I'm hoping some well spent time in front of Lightroom will help me salvage what I did today.

Oh well, we live and we learn.

On an unrelated note I took some fun portraits yesterday. Cross lighting, snoots, masks and American flags blend together to for some creepy results... Below is an example of what I like to do with my free time.



It makes me laugh every time I look at it. Great. Anyway I'm exhausted. Good night for now.

Starting on a low note...

So it happened, that horrifying what if that haunts everyone who hops on a bike. My friend got hit by a car, an SUV to be exact.

He's ok... sort of. I mean he was knocked out and woke up in an ambulance, has some road rash on his head, a broken arm and a fractured elbow and to top it off his super fancy 100 percent wool pants now have little holes in them (he was on his way to work when he got hit, it's not some new bike trend you don't know about...).

I spent three or four hours waiting around Tampa General yesterday while they pumped him full of morphine and checked to make sure he wasn't pissing blood. We laughed and winced and wondered what the future would hold and who would be next.

I ride a lot, it's my only way of getting around. Often I catch unnecessary honks from drivers who just can't conceive of why I am on the road. I have gotten in yelling matches, had to swerve to avoid being crushed, and talked shit to plenty of people I probably shouldn't have.

It's like a transformation occurs when someone gets behind the wheel. They are in their little steel shell and they don't seem to realize that when I'm pumping away on my Schwinn Le Tour the only thing between me and the pavement is me.

Anyway, I don't want to preach. I'm glad my friend is alive and the damage is minimal. Please please just be careful if you see me or any other cyclists out on the road...

I texted Denver last night to see how the pain was, he texted me back with this

"To quote Patrick Swayze, 'pain don't hurt much.'"

I think he'll be just fine...