Eff This

How often do you get sick of your daily routine? I'm pretty easy to please and my work schedule is nuts, so I don't get sick of mine very often but I imagine your run of the mill banker or office worker often sits in their cubical and wants to get up, hop in the car, drive to the airport and go somewhere far, far away on a regular basis.

Enter Matt Pedigo and Drew Hunt. Matt grew up in rural Kentucky, was a Marine and eventually ended up shooting tape in Reno and Knoxville before Covering the Carolinas for WSOC. Drew hails from Savannah and is an enormous UGA and Panthers fan who shot news in his hometown before making his way to WSOC a few years ago. Oh yeah, Drew also was a professional wrestler who has more than one belt. Two great dudes who are good enough friends they decided to rid themselves of local television news and skip town.

Leaving Charlotte wasn't quite far enough. Leaving North Carolina wasn't far enough. These two bought a one way ticket to Ireland. Next Sunday they'll land in Dublin, spend a couple of days sampling the locals and the local beverages before they start walking. They'll probably hitch a ride here and there, but for the most part, they'll lug big assed backpacks around the country for a while, then make their way through various other parts of Europe relying on their friendship and the kindness of strangers for survival.

Matt just got back from shooting a documentary in The Republic of Congo and Drew sold his condo and truck so they have nothing American to worry about while they're over there.

When I see people I know doing stuff like this, I always wonder if I could do it. I'm not sure I could, even when I was single. Let's be honest. It takes enormous balls to say, "Eff this, let's go backpacking!" That's exactly what Matt and Drew are doing. I'm impressed and happy for them. It's always nice to see folks who used to do what I used to do for a living do something really cool on their own accord. They'll have a freakin' blast. Many of their friends, colleagues and coworkers gathered at The Gin Mill Wednesday for a final pint and goodbye before they head east. Neither one of them looked nervous, just really freakin' excited.

Oh, and they'll be blogging along the way, too.

Bummed with the Sanfords

I try to stay away from the popular stories. I find if media if providing way too much coverage, there isn't a chance anyone would want my opinion about it. Lucky for all of you, I'm not a Michael Jackson Fan. I have been fascinated by the Mark Sanford deal, though. I love this dudes fiscal policies. Anyone who pisses off Republicans by refusing to accept federal money is my kind of politician. As the governor of the lesser Carolina(yep, I said it,) he hasn't given a horse's ass what anyone thinks about what he does. As governor, he's always seemed to do the right thing. Democrats hate him and alleged 'fiscal conservative' Republicans hated him, too when he brought pigs to the state house. It almost made me want to move to South Carolina. That's a big almost.

I was fortunate to cover the Republican National Convention last year and we got to do a ton of cool stories as part of my last big assignment in news. Hurricane Gustav was about to Katrina the Gulf Coast again and they were talking of halting the convention to focus on the would be victims of Gustav. The Republicans mobilized a bunch of their politicians, their wives and delegates to get ready for Hurricane Relief. Reporter Shawn Flynn and myself scoured St. Paul, MN looking for people doing hurricane stuff and one of the Republican PR folks set us up with Governor Sanford's wife.

I knew nothing about Mrs. Sanford. I knew I liked almost everything I'd heard about her husband but I'd had no reason to hear anything about her. We met up with her in a random section of the XCel Energy Center and when you set up for an interview, there is typically some awkward small talk while we photographers get set up and typically the reporter takes care of that small talk. Mrs. Sanford was different. She immediately told us to call her Jenny and asked us where we were from. This was way better than small talk. Jenny was cool. Way cool. She told us she was from Illinois and loved everything about The South. She even mentioned she enjoyed shopping at Wal-Mart. Weird, yet pretty badass considering three weeks before we talked her husband was mentioned as a serious contender for John McCain's vice presidential nominee. We did the interview and more talk continued between the three of us while I got some cutaways. A few minutes later, she issued Shawn and I a very sincere invite to the South Carolina delegates party later that night. Unfortunately, we already had a ton of free beer lined up for the evening at a different party, but she was serious about having us over. Once I got done with the cutaways, she shook hour hands and took off. What a cool first lady. It wasn't until this week I learned she went to Georgetown and was a Vice President for a banking firm on Wall Street. After she was gone, Shawn and I both had your typical dude reaction, "She's kinda hot, especially for a first lady." Anyway, she made an impression.

Thus, I was bummed for a couple of reasons. I was hoping Sanford would keep pissing off Republicans enough they and the rest of America would eventually figure out a more Libertarian fiscal policy was the cool policy. I'm also bummed because Jenny is a cool lady. She should run for congress or something.

I could go on about the whole deal but none of us really know anything. I'm sure the governor has his reasons and they may or may not be legit, but the whole situation is one big assed bummer. I hope the Republicans find someone else to carry their fiscal torch who feels the same way Sanford does. More importantly, I hope Jenny is doing alright.

Los Angeles

While a kid in elementary and junior high school, I'd often tune into The Late Show with David Letterman because his sarcasm made me chuckle even at such a young age. I would often look at the bump shots of New York City and want to go there so badly. I didn't know anything about it but it looked cool on television. I knew I would love it once I got there and sure enough, in 2000 I finally made it there and it indeed whipped ass. I loved it. Back in 2004, I was in the city working for ten days and I was ready to get the eff out of there. Up until that point, I had always thought I could live in New York, but that rid me of that desire(though I still flirt with the possibility.)

Enter Los Angeles, another place I'd always wanted to visit. All I knew of it was sun, celebrities, Compton, traffic, beautiful weather and of course, good friends Debora and Polo. Deb had always told me I'd like California because it's pretty laid back, much like myself. That was another draw for me and yet another reason to visit. Of course, I'd read a ton of stuff about daily life in greater Los Angeles courtesy of BeFrank. His tales don't often take place in rosy neighborhoods and I still was pretty sure I'd love LA.



Thankfully my red hot smokin' wife agreed a spring jaunt west to Los Angeles would be the right thing to do in April and so we did. Touchdown! Jennifer and I arrived around lunchtime that Sunday, rented a thugged out Dodge Magnum and drove about five minutes to the Ornelas-Wong household high atop a bluff in West Los Angeles. We walked inside, hugged the hosts and took a tour of the house. Shortly after that, Debi and Polo headed to a birthday party and we headed to Manhattan Beach. For those of you that don't know Debi, she is one of the best people I know. Real, polite, a wonderful person in every way whom I've had the pleasure of knowing for more than seven years. Of course, she had prepared us a beach bag full of goodies like towels, water, Trader Joe's snacks, sunscreen and even a volleyball. What a freakin' hostess!



Manhattan Beach is about as good as beach life gets. You cruise south past a couple of beaches and enter a cool town that is everything a beach town should be. Cool restaurants and bars, awesome houses, a spacious and beautiful beach and a big assed pier! People were nice and jetlagged Jennifer and I were able to catch a quick nap. Once some kids playing nearby woke us up we walked to a restaurant and had a wonderful meal outdoors. After about ten minutes, we decided we could absolutely move to California. More on that later.



Day two brought forth an amazing breakfast from Debi who all of the sudden is the Asian Martha Stewart. Strada, grapes and a salad got the day started off great. That worked out well since the time change had us waking up at 7 AM which never happens for us on the East Coast. We hopped in the Magnum, got on the 405 and headed east on Santa Monica Blvd to Beverly Hills where we parked and did a TON of walking. As soon as we got on Rodeo Drive we spotted our first celebrity. I know you were hoping for Brad Pitt or Megan Fox, but it was even better. It was character actor Michael Nouri! I know, I was excited to see Dr. Roberts, too. We walked through some shops and checked out the Wilshire, typical Beverly Hills stuff. It was pretty neat. Did I mention it was literally 95 degrees? Sure, it's a dry heat but it was quite warm.


That didn't keep us from enjoying cupcakes from Crumbs. I can't help myself anytime I walk past a Crumbs Bake Shop. I always get the Artie Lange. It didn't suck but I must say an enormous, sweet cup cake on a 95 degree day wasn't the greatest call. Jennifer didn't seem to mind it, though. We left Rodeo Drive and instead of paying money to be a bad tourist on a Star Tour of celebrity homes, we hopped in the Magnum and drove around neighborhoods where celebrities probably live. Big assed houses and beautiful scenery once you got up into the hills. After the drive, we headed to Culver City where Polo hooked us up with a sweet tour of Sony Pictures and we sat in on a pilot taping for a CBS sitcom. It was mildly funny and only twice did I emit a fake guffaw. We followed up the taping with dinner at Akasha where we sat about ten feet away from Adrian Grenier. I'm pretty sure Jennifer peed her pants, but I was more excited about seeing Dennis Dugan at the studio than sitting near Adrian Grenier. Maybe it's because I'm a dude. Regardless, it was a great way to end a wonderful day. The food whipped ass, too.

Day three we got back on Santa Monica Blvd. for lunch in Beverly Hills at The Ivy(which is pretty amazing considering yet another super Deb breakfast. This one included a Mango smoothie.) Though ridiculously expensive, The Ivy was quite good. After lunch we got back to The Magnum and Jennifer noticed the paparazzi was shooting someone inside a store on Robertson Blvd. Who could it be? Somebody yelled it was Britney Spears so Jennifer got pretty excited. You wouldn't believe the fuss. People were stopping their cars in the middle of the Blvd. to see who it was. I assumed LA residents wouldn't go nuts for celebs but I was wrong. After all of the fuss it turned out to be Samaire Armstrong. Michal Nouri still takes the cake for biggest celeb thus far(at least in my opinion,) and that includes Jose Canseco who was on our flight.


After lunch we continued east to Hollywood where we did the Hollywood tourist thing. We only took three or four star pictures. I went with Marty Robbins and George Takei(Hey Now!) Jennifer went with Betty White. A solid threesome! After a long walk down both directions of Hollywood Blvd. we realized that Hollywood is just okay. In fact, with all of the souvenir shops it's not unlike Myrtle Beach.

After a change of clothes we parked the Magnum on La Cienega for some pre-sushi beverages. The Belmont was the first place since it was near the car. It seemed like a friendly neighborhood joint with lots of locals. Of course Jennifer and I are beautiful and classy so we fit right in. After one pint there we walked next door to a place called STK for another beverage. It seemed pretty fancy and I may or may not have been a bit underdressed in flip-flops. We paid three times more for the same beverages there but despite giving them our debit card and signing a receipt, they never charged us. Thanks for the beer and martini, STK! Finally we crossed the street to Koi for dinner. Sushi is a new love affair for me. I'd never tried it until I met Jennifer but it's quickly risen to top 3 status on my list of foods that whip ass. Koi was amazing. I tried a dish that marries raw tuna with sushi rice and fried onions. My gracious what a meal! Jennifer ate a crab concoction that didn't suck either. David Spade dined a few feet away from us and somehow never managed to hit on Jennifer. That was kinda disappointing but didn't ruin a fabulous meal.

Our final day we went to Venice Beach, rented bikes, rode to Santa Monica and walked on the pier. We then walked around with the crazy people at Venice Beach. That was neat. I like crazy, weird people. We called it a day early and headed back to the house to get ready for dinner with Deb, Polo and Matteo. They took us to a whip ass tapas bar called Primitivo in Venice. I tried Ox Tail for the first time and we all enjoyed some tuna tartar on potato chips. Matteo enjoyed his first glass of wine at the ripe age of eight months. We followed up dinner with a walk down to Pinkberry for some amazing ice cream or whatever the hell it is. It was a great evening and a wonderful way to wrap up a great week.

This is a group of days I'll look fondly upon for quite a while. It was the first time since our honeymoon Jennifer and I have had several days together without work being involved. We were able to spend time with three of my favorite people in the world. Debora is the best. I could write three separate blog posts on how much ass she whips. Polo was slammed at work all week and still went way, way out of his way to hook us up with cool stuff. I know all babies are cute, but Matteo is the cutest damned kid in the country. Seriously. Plus he bites everything. It's hilarious.

Los Angeles agrees with us. I've known a few people who have been to LA who didn't care for it. Sister Anna spent last summer there and really enjoyed it. Jennifer and I, we felt eerily at home driving around. I am 100 percent sure we could move there tomorrow with no regrets and be happy. All we need is jobs and a place to live. Sure, our entire families are here in Charlotte but I've never moved away from here. We love it here. Our lives are here, our families are here, the Panthers are here, The Gin Mill and The Thirsty Beaver are here and I've always pictured us raising our family here with our families around the corner. Moving that far away would certainly put a big assed damper on all of that stuff.

No reason we couldn't move out there for a year or five, right? I'm off to do a serious/pretend job search. Seriously. Kinda.

R.I.P.

Becky Hill died Sunday evening. She was a friend to our family for more than 30 years. I hate this is the only picture I have of Becky, but I think it actually fits her pretty well. Becky probably weighed damn near 400 pounds and as far as anyone could tell, she was ok with it. Here she is watching Jennifer walk down the aisle probably whispering to herself, "boy she sure is a skinny little thing." Becky was like that in a joking manner. She whipped ass.

Most of ya'll know Mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis a little more than ten years ago. At first, there were some dicey weeks where Mom wasn't doing well at all. Becky cooked dinner every Tuesday or Wednesday for a couple of years. After mom was better, she kept cooking dinner for them every week even though everyone was healthy. Her husband Ralph always delivered the meals. After he died, Dad would go by Becky's to pick them up every week. She was the greatest cook, so good she submitted more than 75 recipes for her latest church cookbook. She used eight different names for her recipes so she could remain "discreet." She whipped ass.

After Ralph died in 2004, Becky was certainly sad. She'd never kill herself or anything, but she always made it known she'd be ok if she died sooner than later. Mom used to get upset with Becky for saying that but Becky never lied about anything. She was a nurse for thirty years and was pretty sure Ralph died because a nurse gave him a blood transfusion of the wrong blood type. When questioned about why she never said anything to doctors or hospital administrators, she smiled and told everyone that Ralph would still be dead if she went through all that. She missed him dearly. She whipped ass.

Becky had severe type 1 diabetes and was on insulin, but that never stopped her from sugar. She took her coffee with sugar and would eat dessert anytime she wanted. She'd just take an extra insulin shot beforehand to offset the effects on her body. She whipped ass.

I honestly can't remember the last time I saw Becky. It may have been four or five months ago when Jennifer and I picked up something from her house. It may have been our wedding day. I'm not sure. That kind of sucks. She gave us a wonderful wedding gift, that cookbook and an heirloom Chrismas tree that will remain in our home for the rest of our lives. Becky was sarcastic, kind and self-aware. Brutally self aware. My kind of girl. She whipped ass.

Becky has been in and out of the hospital several times in the last few years for heart issues. Three weeks ago she was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given nine months to live. She went into the hospital last week with unrelated issues and Saturday developed congestive heart and kidney failure. Becky had been wrestling with whether to fight the cancer or let it run it's course. I'm glad she didn't have to decide. Ralph is, too.

You Betcha!

Prepare for the most random post in this blog's history. I've nothing in particular to say so here she blows!

I wish I blogged more. Every time I get back on here I remember why I used to update this thing every day. Maybe I should get out more and blog about whatever it is I do, even if it isn't that exciting.

Sister Anna marries her fiance Brad next month. She and Mom are neck deep in planning, a process I've deliberately stayed out of. I did have a say in bachelor party activities, though. That should be a good time. I'm excited for them both. Two good people who seem to have good qualities where the other one doesn't. Does that make sense? Regardless, they seem awfully good for each other.

I haven't seen my grandparents in more than a month. That makes me a complete douche. They live an hour away.

The day after Anna and Brad's wedding Jennifer and I are headed to Los Angeles! We are staying with old friend Debora, her husband Polo and their little son Matteo. I can't wait to see them and introduce them to Jennifer. They are two of my favorite people and I haven't seen them in five years. We are stoked. We've always wanted to go to LA. I've been skeered to visit California because I'm afraid I'm going to like it. It's the same reason I've never smoked weed.

Yard work is upon us. I've cut back the monkey grass, blown the last of the leaves and currently Jennifer and I are working on a new patio in the back yard. Their was a dog pen the previous owner used for his 85 pound golden retriever. It has a concrete pad and everything but Jennifer cut down the bushes around it and I'm about halfway finished tearing down the pen which unfortunately was built very well. It's been a big job but has been helped by my good friend Craig's List. I've gotten rid of a bunch of rocks and a doghouse thanks to the list and I have another guy coming back for the fence part of the dog pen. If you have any junk, don't take it to the dump until you post it on Craig's List. People will come get damn near anything, god bless them.

Here I sit at the cpu at 1:56 Thursday morning. I'm staying up until 6 to prepare myself for a weekend of overnight shifts at work. Evidently this Formula 1 thing is pretty popular and my presence has been requested to make sure every second of of the Australian Gran Prix is forever embedded into a big assed server. I don't mind the occasional overnight shifts. It gives me an excuse to drink more than one Red Bull, eat from a catered omelet bar and learn more about a sport I'm not familiar with. Not a bad way to spend a work day.

I miss shooting tape, but I had my first gut punch this week since I left local news. It was media day for the Quail Hollow Championship. I wrote about this two years ago. It was such an amazing day and I was sincerely bummed to miss it. However, I'm happy to be where I am.

It sure did suck missing media day this year. Oh, sorry. I already wrote about that.

I love my BlackBerry. I never thought I would use it as much as I do. It is sweet.

I've been doing some writing for a couple of friends who are starting a new website in the next year or so. It's focused on local news jobs and it's been really neat to look back on some of my better days in this business and write about them.

Facebook is nuts. I've caught up with so many people I thought I'd never see or speak to again. It's been a blessing to see how everyone is as we all grow older.

My mom is whipping ass in grad school at the spry age of 55. She starts an internship in August and I am stoked for her. She knocked her first interview in 20 years right out of the park.

Every day I get more and more like my dad. The other day at work I stepped out of our area for a while to make some phone calls. Someone asked where I was and a coworker said, "He's probably somewhere telling a story." Even though that wasn't the case, it happens a lot. My Dad tells a shit ton of stories, some of which are interesting. I hope more of my stories are interesting. If not, I hope people tell me they aren't so I'll stop telling them. I also wear khaki pants in the yard, just like Dad. At least I can say I wear them so I won't get bitten by a brown recluse. Again.

I bought a sweet ass HD television from pal Tracy about 4 years ago. It's an old school tube CRT. I was looking at houses for myself back then and he needed to make room for his new tv. Of course, I didn't end up buying a house until Jennifer and I did a few months ago. Thankfully Travers didn't mind giving it a home in his basement for the time being. This evening, he and TV's Kris Cook helped move it to the house. It is now the centerpiece of what will be our Panther room. Jennifer ordered pizza and beer and we all had a good time.

Speaking of Jennifer, I'm digging marriage.

Kathy returned to Charlotte USA from Dublin last week for her second straight Charlotte St. Patrick's Day. She bought us shots at The Gin Mill, brought us Irish chocolate and brought me a six pack of Smithwick's in CANS!! You can't get those over here and they are terrific. Kathy whips ass and I wish I had gotten more time to visit with her. What a lovely person.

I've been learning a lot at the new job especially audio stuff. HD is a whole new world I'm proud to be a part of.

I'm going to go to The Thirsty Beaver one night next week. It's been too long.

Speaking of The Gin Mill, Jennifer and I returned for a media night since Kathy was in town. The crowd was great and I caught up with a ton of old friends. It was a super evening that reminded me of the good old days.

Some of you remember me covering the NCAA tournament in Detroit last year. For some reason I can't get that place out of my head. I check the Free Press website a couple of times a week just to see what's going on up there. It's such an intriguing place with some of the best people I've ever met to go along with its deteriorating economic issues. I love that place. I'll get back there someday.

I apologize for the rambling, it was probably a bit much.

Not Used To This

Working inside has been quite the adjustment. It's 2:41 AM on a Sunday morning and here I sit in a corner in the room I share weekly with six other coworkers . I work in a television facility that is new, clean, freshly painted and full of technology. It's badass, and completely different from life as a news photographer. I've gone from working for a local television station to a full fledged national cable network covering sports that typically involve motors and wheels. There are some good things about that. I feel I have a little more job security, a higher salary and catered meals on busy days. There are also some bad things about it. I'm inside, I'm not shooting and I'm dealing with more mouth breathing than I thought possible. Thankfully I get to keep my same, "it's just tv" attitude and force it upon people who feel much differently. It makes for some awkward moments and general good times.

Life is different. My back hasn't felt this great in more than ten years. Wow! What a difference! I haven't even been to the chiropractor in three weeks, and I love going to the chiropractor. My schedule is different every week and I'm actually enjoying that. I get a good mix of days, nights and weekends. Jennifer and I have more time to ourselves and since sometimes I get bored at home I've picked up the guitar a few times recently and I haven't done that in a while. I also have some more nights free and since I don't work in news anymore, I can actually put my actions where my mouth is and get involved in politics. I've already been to one meeting. I've met some great people here at the new place along with some characters that make working in television great. I don't much care for being inside all day, but so far I enjoy the work. It was so much technology at the beginning, I'm just now getting a handle on it. Every time I figure something else out, it gets more rewarding.

Shooting news, you know every nook and cranny of your town. I still know Charlotte better than 98 percent of Charlotteans, but I don't feel like I'm connected to it much anymore. I drive to work every day. I drive to poker once a week. I've seen uptown maybe four times since I started the new gig. I don't really know what's going on in this town. What I miss most is just driving around. I have to pay for my own gas and drive my own truck if I want to that now. However, I didn't have to go to the airport when plane crashed 700 miles away. That whipped major ass.

I really can't complain too much. In a heinous economy I got a new job with a significant raise with a lot of new opportunities. I really miss Phat Burrito, though.

Another One.....

I love live in general. It's freaking awesome we all get to live. We get to wake up, eat good meals, enjoy relationships with friends and significant others. We get to listen to music that doesn't suck and sometimes we even get to score! Seriously, even when life sucks, it's really not that bad. Sorry, I didn't mean to get off on that tangent, but perhaps my favorite part of life is the random moments that help you realize there are reasons for everything. The coincidences that keep you thinking for hours, "This is really weird, and really cool."

Last weekend Jennifer and I went to Wilmington for Kelli's birthday. Her age is not significant, but is indeed a milestone. It's great to go to Wilmington. Most of Jennifer's friends are there and they are all super people. Plus, I usually get a chance to slide in and see cousin Lee and family, so I was really happy we made the trip. Kelli wanted to celebrate at Indochine, a pretty good restaurant featuring Thai/Indochinese/Indian/Japanese and probably three or four other kinds of food. It whipped a ton of ass. Good food, cold beer and good people. We had to wait a while in the bar and I thought the manager walking around the restaurant looked real familiar.
I didn't think much about it, but I was pretty sure I knew this guy from somewhere, but I couldn't quite figure it out. We sat down, ordered and he walked by our table. I decided to stop him and ask him where he was from and he had lived in Charlotte for a short time, but as soon as he said that, I realized Charlotte isn't where I first met him. Some of you know I was in real college for a few months at UNC-Greensboro as a vocal performance major. I sang pretty good in a previous life. Anyway, my good friend Brad got an apartment off campus our second semester and had a seriously flaming gay neighbor who was always throwing big gay parties on Spring Garden Street. They were always inviting us over but I was a bit skeered to take them up on the invitation. Mom had always taught me gay people were nice and not scary so I finally convinced Brad's then girlfriend to go over there with me one night. I was 18 and had zero experience around gay people. I was nervous and not sure what to expect but I vaguely remember walking up the stairs and some dude yelling, "Watch out!! Here comes some straight people!!" I felt a lot better after that knowing they all knew I wasn't gay. It was an experience I'm glad I had at that age. I found gay people to be way more entertaining than myself and my friends, and I got to see people doing hard drugs for the first time. This 18 year old was soaking up life, a completely different life than I'd ever been around, and it didn't scare me. The gay neighbor's boyfriend named talked to us for a while and even after that night always spoke to us and was real nice to us. Sure enough, that was Rob managing Indochine in Wilmington! Freaking random!! I'm glad I don't forget many faces and he actually remembered us, too. Talking to Rob brought back some good memories for me, memories I'd forgotten to tell Jennifer about so I was able to do that. Rob moved to Wilmington a few years ago, retired and now has what he described as a short, vietnamese boyfriend and is about to have a child with a woman. I don't know about all that, but it was good to see Rob.
We left there and headed to the Sofa Lounge for a few more drinks. Jennifer, Kate and Kelli talked about something whilst the boys talked about traveling to Wales for the next Ryder Cup and other manly stuff.

We need to make more trips to Wilmington.

Well

I'm not a photographer. It's weird to say that. I'm a pretty comfortable in my own. I rarely feel out of place, but I'm not yet comfortable with not being what I've been for the last ten years. It's not like I got out of the business or anything. I went to work for a cable network that covers sporting events on wheels. I'm not carrying a camera, though. I'm sitting in front of a computer that controls a shit ton of satellites and imports video into a big assed server. I'm not one hundred percent sure I'll like it. In fact, I may be bored with it. I won't hate it, though and I do get to sit in a room with four 52 inch HD flat panels and several other smaller ones. I'll still watch television for a living, I'll just have a much smaller role in creating it. To make a long story short, it's a sneaker in a much higher paying door with a lot of exciting possibilities. While this is exciting, I'll miss my old gig. Not every part of it, but I'll miss knowing what the hell is going on in this town. I'll miss taking trips to small towns ninety minutes away and not being upset about it. I'll miss knowing every street in every neighborhood. I'll miss running into friends in random places and I'll miss asking police officers if I can stand next to the crime scene tape with the other civilians if I go put my camera back in the truck. I won't miss live shots in the rain and I won't miss trying to turn a complete piece of shit into something that doesn't look like a piece of shit. Mostly, I'll miss shooting high school football. By pure luck, twas my last assignment.

News photographers have an astute knowledge of eateries in every town in their coverage area. I could rattle off twenty that make my socks go up and down at the thought of a vittle there, but there isn't a place that I enjoy eating at more on the job than Bridge's BBQ in Shelby. I pull the sat buggy in the parking lot, walk inside, take a seat at the bar and a nice man doesn't ask me what I want to drink. He simply asks, "Do you want a lemon in your tea?" It's that kind of treatment I live for in a restaurant. I effing love it. Last Friday, my final assignment took me to Kings Mountain for a state semi-final football game featuring the Mountaineers and Kannapolis. Luckily, I was able to leave the station early, mount my Sirius Satellite Radio and drive a good twelve minutes past the high school to eat at Bridge's. I ordered my usual BBQ plate with fries and green beans. I know it's weird I don't care for baked beans and slaw, but that's how I roll. Bridge's is the best. I love it and will miss it dearly since there's a good chance I won't be "swinging by" Shelby anytime soon. I sincerely got more sentimental in Bridge's than I did shooting my final night.

I had to put together a package for the game and arrived twenty minutes before kickoff. That allowed me to tune in and snag some quick sound from some drunken Kings Mountain residents before the game. They delivered with some great tape like all small town high school football fans in the fifties do. I grabbed rosters from the press box and made my way to the field where I was greeted with the weird looks I'm used to directed at my hairy legs in shorts exposed to the 38 degree temperatures. It's high school football! You're supposed to wear shorts!!!! Anyway, I had one of the better football shooting nights I've had in my shooting career. Not the best, but I didn't miss anything and I was on target all night. It helps I shoot Kannapolis almost every week. They won, too which was special for me since there's a ton of good people up there who have treated me well for the last several years. I'll miss meeting new people every day.
I got my victory shots, trekked back up the hill to the buggy where I edited and tracked my package. I tracked it sans script since I used to be a sports anchor and wanted to prove to myself I could still track it 'live.' It turned out alright. It wasn't my best package, but it was ok. (You can watch it here if you press play, then arrow right to the second segment. It's the second game in that second segment.) My final assignment allowed me to finish this part of my career doing what I loved most about my job. I got out of Charlotte, I was able to eat at Bridge's, and I got to shoot high school football. Life as a news photographer is a good one. It is one I'll miss dearly despite several parts of the job that truly suck. My new gig allows me to work with some absolutely amazing technology I'm soaking in daily. That's exciting. And I work in a room that producers won't even have access to. How freakin awesome is that?? I could go on for hours about what I'll miss, but it's mostly the people. I'll miss the random folks knocking on the live buggy door with a story idea when you're slamming out television magic. I'll miss the politicians who I've learned a lot from, the other media members who I've learned a lot more from and I'll miss my co-workers who have made work worth showing up for for the last seven years. Thank Jesus I married the hottest one.

I'm not sure what this blog will be in the near future. There's a good chance it will suck more than it has lately. Travel usually brings out my best blogging and I won't be traveling with this job. We'll see how it goes. I'm not sure how the higher ups feel about detailed blogging about the job so I'll likely stick with extra curricular activities which is mostly what this blog is about anyway. Stay tuned.......oh, and shoot some good tape for me, please.

Effing Atlanta, Again

A trip to Atlanta happens at least once a year for me. I have some good memories of that town. I also have some heinous memories. Let's say I've been down there a dozen times. Something bad happened on at at least ten of those trips. The other two, the Panthers beat the Falcons and we got out of Dodge, quickly. Some of the bad memories include wrecking my friend Sherrie's car and major camera malfunctions. Bad news.

Anyway, I traveled to Atlanta last Saturday to hang out with former Road Reporter and dear friend Jason Bronis and his lovely girlfriend. I knew despite what happened the rest of the weekend, it'd be a great Saturday night. We had a steak at Morton's, then made our way to the Cypress Street Pint and Plate for more beverages. Several beverages later we made our way back to Jason's place where a hooker was walking down the street.

Of course, I did what any other inebriated photographer does when he spots a hooker at 3 in the morning, I utilized my camera phone! Regardless, Bronis was the gracious host like he always is and he's missed greatly in Charlotte, USA. It was great to see him and meet his girlfriend. A fine meal, an inordinate amount of beverages and good company made for a tremendous Saturday night.

I made the trip Saturday because Solarte and I were slated to cover the Panthers vs. Falcons game at the Georgia Dome Sunday. Solarte shoots the Panthers every week and is a way, way better football shooter than myself, so I jokingly said he should shoot the game and I should sit in the press box. Lo and behold, I get to the dome Sunday afternoon and he's wearing wind pants with paint stains. Thus, I sat in the press box for the game. It was weird and I was visibly uncomfortable there. Regardless, the game sucked since we got spanked, but the Papa John's personal pizzas at halftime and unlimited Diet Coke to nurse off Saturday night were nice.

After we got sound(Solarte did let me shoot post,) we fed some tape and rolled up 85. Coming out of Atlanta, I ran over something. I don't know what it was, but we stopped in Commerce, GA for gas and BK when Solarte got out of the truck and heard a hiss. Well, the right rear was going down and in a hurry. Normally, you whip out a jack, change the tire and keep on going like most normal human beings but when you're in a satellite truck that weighs 12,000 pounds, the jack in the back of the truck doesn't cut it, thus you need a tow truck to raise the ass of the truck so you can change the tire.

After an hour, this guy named Shane rolled in with his tow truck and Shane whipped some serious ass. The tire had a gash the size of Fulton County so a plug wasn't going to cut it. We finally got the spare down and Shane swapped the good one for the bad one and we were on our way. We rolled in to the station at 4 am Monday, two hours after our planned arrival. Instead of Burger King, we ate ice cream sandwiches and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos from the gas station, but we made it home safely thanks to Shane.

Sure, Atlanta threw me another curve ball, but thanks to good folks like Bronis and Shane, I won't count this as one of the bad trips down there.

Chapel, Minister, Reception, Touchdown!

After an eight month engagement and a ton of planning, Jennifer and I married three weeks ago. I'm not sure exactly what my expectations of the day were. I wanted to see family and friends and I wanted everything to go smoothly so Jennifer wouldn't have to worry about anything. Really, I didn't care about much else except marrying Jennifer.

Some people spend decades searching for someone to spend the rest of their life with. I was fortunate enough to find Jennifer just nine years into my adult life. We grew up eight miles apart, knew a ton of the same people, went to the same restaurants, ate ice cream at Larry's in Mint Hill, shopped at Upton's and even went to the same day camp. We probably saw each other a dozen times growing up, but I never met her until she walked into the newsroom almost three years ago.

I thought to myself, "Wow, she's tall! And really hot!" She was and she was. I wrote her off as another cool co-worker who happened to be smokin' hot and that's pretty much what every other guy in the newsroom did, too. I honestly never thought I'd get a chance to have a beer with her, or go out with her. Who the hell knew I'd end up marrying the girl at work who was both hot and cool? I didn't, but a few friends helped convince me I at least had a shot. You know who you are, and thanks for giving me the extra cajones I needed to make something happen. All of you are a big part of this marriage.

The wedding was great. I don't think anything went wrong. We went out with friends from out of town the night before, I drove her home and then spent the night at my parents where I proceeded to sleep terribly. I don't think it was nerves because I had very few nervous moments the last few weeks. But, I slept very little and woke up early. Mom and Dad whipped up a big assed breakfast and sister Anna came over for a final family meal for me as a single man. I was tired, but excited. I went home, took Carmen to the vet and took my final single shower. I was really scared I'd cut myself shaving but made it through my entire face without a scratch.

I dressed, met your friendly neighborhood police officer Tim and his girl, friendly neighborhood police officer Melissa and we headed to the church where I spent the longest hour of my life chatting with people and standing in a room half the size of your typical photog room waiting to walk into the church. My dear friend Debbi from The Urban Ministry Center married us in a traditional Presbyterian(even though we were both raised Methodist) ceremony after we recited vows we wrote ourselves. I wasn't down with that at first, but I'm glad Jennifer convinced me it was the right thing to do. It was my favorite part of the ceremony.

I glanced into the congregation a few times to see who all was there. I remember noticing a few people who I didn't get to speak to, and a few people who I'd never seen before which I suppose is typical at a wedding. I eventually figured out who they were. After we made it official we hopped in a limo for a ride around town while we waited for the reception to start. We rode with Jennifer's matron of honor, Erika and her husband Mike who bought a five dollar bottle of champagne for the occasion. Good call!

Once we arrived at the reception, Big Jim Slade made the announcements for the thankfully small wedding party. Once we walked in, waved and pretended it wasn't completely awkward, we had our first dance. I thought we'd get to drink a beer first, but we had to get right into the program. Once everybody kept staring at the newlyweds, I was actually able to visit with people at the reception. By the way, I think the first dance should be private between the bride and groom. That's a pretty special moment and it was weird knowing everyone was staring.

Regardless, it was still a special moment and so was the dance with my mom, despite everyone staring. We tried our best to go from table to table to table visiting with people, some of whom we haven't seen in months or had never seen before! And this was with only 105 people! I'm glad we kept it small. It sucked horribly to not invite some people. That was by far the worst part of wedding planning for me(and I did very little planning.) But the small number did allow us time to visit more with those who were there.

The food was great, the beer was cold and I heard the liquor was good, too. Yes, there was indeed a keg of Smithwick's and assorted domestics and no we didn't kill that keg. It was the only regret I had that day. We left nearly half of the beer in the keg and I don't know what happened to the rest. I hope someone drank it.

By the way, you're an asshole if you don't fly in Larry Davidson from Tallahassee to shoot your wedding. He is absolutely freakin' amazing. These are only ten of the 1,400, yes that's one thousand, four hundred pictures he took. None of them suck, they are all freakin' awesome and so is Larry!

We left the reception, checked into the hotel and went straight to the Gin Mill where we were greeted by probably 25 friends and family who had taken over part of the bar. The greeting there and the time spent with them there was probably my second favorite part of the day. I'm still not sure what my expectations for the day were, but it was terrific. Most importantly, I married Jennifer, the girl whom is both cool and hot and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with.

TBMOMNS Voting Guide 2008!

Uh oh! It's almost election day! The guide is up next, but first.......

Jennifer and I married last weekend. The wedding was great, the reception was wonderful and so was the honeymoon. Much, much, much more on that later this week. On to the voting guide!!! Woooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!

The Senate race has been pretty close and heated here in the Old North State. You can vote for Kay Hagan who seems like a nice lady. You could also vote for Elizabeth Dole who is a nice lady and always leans past a reporter to shake this photographer's hand before an interview. Dole also hasn't lived in North Carolina for the last 300 years. She's from Kansas for God's sake and probably only voted against the bank bailout bill because she's up for reelection. Dole blows, but is a nice lady. Hagan has spent some in the state legislature and supported an ENORMOUS incentive bill to bring Dell to the triad. Chris Cole has run for office seven times and hasn't' won, but damn he's full of great ideas. Ideas like it's cool for people of the same sex to marry and government sponsored 1st degree murder(you may know it as the death penalty) isn't cool. When you vote, look for the 'L' and vote for Chris. Oh, and he's actually from North Carolina, too.

Many of you know I'm no fan of socialism and feel we'd all be much better off if we would rely on ourselves instead of the government. Unfortunately, both Barack Obama and John McCain feel much differently. I admire McCain's service in the Senate, but he had some shady years with the FCC and I think we all know how most broadcast professionals feel about the FCC. McCain also rewarded banks for failing by voting for the bailout bill. Not my kinda guy. I have a ton of respect for what Obama has done with Americans during his campaign. Nobody has mobilized and energized people who normally don't give a damn about politics like Obama has. I just got back from covering a rally where more than ten thousand people waited in the rain just to hear him speak for a few minutes. He's a rock star and I hope he turns out to be an ok president. I'm a bit skeered of socialism. Hey! Bob Barr isn't a socialist. He's a big time conservative from Atlanta who realizes there's not much difference between the views of Obama and McCain. Barr has brought Libertarian pole numbers higher than they've ever been. It's common sense, vote for Bob Barr. You won't be sorry, unless you're a socialist.

Ya'll know I love mayor Pat, but I love Mike Freakin' Munger even more. McCrory has been a great mayor who wasn't afraid to spend a ton of public money on things despite painting himself a conservative. There's a reason he's been a 'republican' mayor in this blue city for so long. He ain't that conservative, but it may be that kind of 'republican' that has to run to make it to Raleigh. For the last two decades, the governor has only cared about Raleigh and points east. With Bev Perdue, that won't change. Plus, her answer to every question is, 'I'll be a serious, strong leader who understands the needs of Wall Street and Main Street." It's so awful and I'm damned skeered she'll be the next governor. Mike Munger is a badass. He's educated, so much so he's the head of the political science department at Duke. He has debated the other candidates with class and common sense and look at that smile. Have you ever seen a mug that screamed, "I should be governor!" more than Mike Munger's? I haven't either, that's why I will and you should vote for Mike Munger, a real American badass.

I'm Amazed at How Much This Blog Sucks

I'm sorry. I've been doing a lot of stuff the last few weeks and have completely neglected this blog. I will likely continue to do so until Jennifer and I get back from our honeymoon which starts in less than two weeks.

Less than two weeks? Holy Shit! If the honeymoon starts in less than two weeks that must mean we marry before that! Yep, Jennifer and I marry in eleven days. That seems awfully soon, but I'm glad it is. We are ready to marry, have a party, go to a football game and leave the country for a week. We look forward to marriage, our wedding and spending the day with friends and family. We also look forward to never planning a wedding again. And by we I mean Jennifer, who of course did the majority of the planning. This morning we headed over to the Mecklenburg County Register of Deeds Office to apply for a marriage license. It only costs 50 bucks to marry in this county! What a deal! The county gets 25 bucks of the fee. Evidently our property taxes aren't enough. According to a sign in the office, the other half goes to "Domestic Violence." I assume this means some form of assistance to domestic violence victims or maybe domestic violence education. Perhaps the 25 bucks goes to promote domestic violence. The sign didn't say, but in order to marry, the effing government says we have to give them 50 dollars. We spent some time filling out a form online, then plastered our right hands to a King James bible while professing everything we typed on the computer was indeed the truth. One debit card transaction later, we exited the old courthouse with a license to wed.

I'll get back on the blogging saddle right before election day with a new feature on thisblogmayormaynotsuck.com. It'll be the TBMOMNS Election Guide. You can probably already guess who I'm voting for, but do you know why? I bet you can't wait to find out!

Until then, I'll be busy. Well, except for that week in Jamaica.

Team America!

This was my weekend. I woke up Friday morning around 10 and sat on the couch until 2 when I had to go to work. Saturday morning I woke up at 11 sat on the couch until 7:30. Sunday it was from noon until 6. I was feeding on a steady diet of Ryder Cup Golf. Other than Panthers football and Mad Men, I've never watched something so intently. I cussed the Sony Bravia at every missed putt the Americans threw at the cup. I've always loved America and I've always loved golf, but for some reason this year was different for me. When the days matches were over, it's all I thought about. When the Panthers were playing Sunday afternoon and Jennifer and I were watching, I was thinking about the Ryder Cup and whipping Europe's ass. Jennifer spent Saturday cleaning house, doing chores and running errands. I continued to sit on the couch. I got up to pee, eat and occasionally let Carmen in our out the back door six feet away from my sofa position.
I did sneak out of the house Saturday night to play with the Loose Lugnuts. I played a handful of gigs with Brian and Mark's band a few years ago. They were missing some members Saturday night so I filled in on rhythm guitar and Campbell filled in on bass. After touring with a hard rock band in the 80's for several years, I think it was the first time Campbell ever played classic country music and he whipped ass. It was probably the second time I picked up a guitar in six months and I had the finger pain to prove it Sunday morning. I'm out of guitar shape. Good thing Brian and Mark were in shape and carried the load. The Lugnuts continued to not suck despite the shortcomings of their substitutes. We played at a White Trash Prom party which featured a pig pickin', Boone's farm, spam and Mad Dog Prom Punch. Oh, and at least one drag queen which was great when the cops showed up after neighbor complaints. Have you ever seen a drag queen tell a police officer they'll keep the noise down? I have and the memory will never get old.Back to the couch I went Sunday afternoon when the singles matches begain with the Americans ahead by two points. We got off to a good start and wrapped up the victory around 5:30. It was exciting. Europe whipped our ass for the last two cups. I mean, they really whipped our ass. We were underdogs this year and destroyed them. I yelled really loudly and I'm pretty sure the neighbors out in their yard heard the yell. I didn't care. Once the handshakes began and the champagne sprayed, we had the cup again and I was ready to celebrate!
And what better way is there to celebrate an American victory than a meal at a Mexican restaurant? I was excited so Jennifer and I headed to Azteca where we lucked out. It was mariachi night! The band made it's way from table to table and asked for a request when they got to ours. I asked if they knew any Johnny Rodriguez. They didn't seem to understand but played Johnny Cash instead. They whipped ass and so did this weekend.

DBT in CLT

I think it was in 2000. Pal and then co-worker Brian Wilson made me roll to the Double Door for a rock show one Tuesday night. Ironically Travers and Mark Campbell were there, too. Brian told me two great bands were playing so I figured I should probably go. Slobberbone and the Drive-By Truckers were co-headlining their tour that summer. Slobberbone got up on the small stage and whipped everyone's ass. Unfortunately they broke up a few years later, but still remain one of my favorite bands. After Slobberbone got done, the Drive-By Truckers got up and blew the roof off the Double Door. It was so effing awesome. I was 20 years old and thanks to some great friends I was finally understanding why everyone loved live music so much. I loved it. The lead singer crooned lyrics I understood and could relate to. Songs about growing up in the South and how most outside the South assumed we were all rednecks who hated Yankees and black people. Most importantly, they had three guitars turned up to eleven and were LOUD! For the first time in my life, a band's music spoke to me. From then on, I claimed the Drive-By Truckers my favorite band.
I've seen DBT at venues in Charlotte, Winston Salem, Raleigh, Asheville, Chapel Hill, Atlanta Richmond and even Baltimore. I loved every song. I knew every word to every song, even the songs I thought were just ok. I made most of those trips with Brian, Mark, pal Sherrie and sometimes a few others. All of them were great trips with wonderful memories. Well, except the Atlanta trip. That's a whole other blog post. There may have been 75 people at the Double Door that night enjoying the rock show and $1 Natural ice cans. When they visited Amos' Thursday night, there were more than 1,000. The Truckers have gotten bigger every year. More people hear them every day and more people like them. They aren't the same band they were in 2000. They've been through two bass players, three guitarists and added a steel guitar. They don't necessarily suck, I just don't enjoy them like I used to. Maybe it's because there was literally more than 10 times the crowed than there was eight years ago.
Maybe it's because they aren't as good as they used to be. Now they did play five or six songs that really did whip ass including a Van Halen and Neil Young cover and they closed with a song from one of their early albums aptly titled Buttholeville. After a pretty weak first half of the show that had me wondering why I loved the band, they came around with some old stuff.

I considered not going to the show Thursday. It cost 25 freakin dollars and it was a weeknight, but there was a rock show, cold beer, good friends and I didn't wear my Dick Trickle t-shirt for nothing. The Drive-By Truckers didn't suck, but it sounded a lot better if I closed my eyes and pretended I was at The Double Door.