The Abominable Redneck

Ask any photog... you've got your good days at the office, and then you've got your snow days. That's when you get the dreaded "come in early... and bring your long underwear" phone call. Ask around... every photog in The Biz hates these days (except for perhaps a few wannabe reporter divas).

Me? I hate 'em, and I've been complaining about it for years. But when it comes down to it, it's (literally) your job, so you just gotta suck it up and brace for a 12 hour day of cutting your hands on snow chains, sliding into embankments and losing feeling in your smaller fingers.

Today was no exception, as we headed over the mountain for the annual snow survey at Lake Tahoe. This was one of those special snow stories, where you had to use snow shoes just to get to the action. I tried to make the best of it by convincing myself that usually people have to pay to go snow shoeing... but I would have much rather spent the day doing something cooler. Oh well.

So this is how you play the game: You get out. You shoot what you need. You get back in the truck. You think happy thoughts. You repeat. Not quite what I had pictured when I was a young buck in Journalism school, but I guess I'm stuck now.

So, back to the story... snow survey is shot, ski resort folks are interviewed, package is done. Everybody's happy. Day turns to night, snow continues to pound the live truck, and I wish that time could fly faster so that I didn't have to dig out the truck after our live shot. Ah yes, livin' the dream.

But to be fair, everything had gone smoothly. Our satellite shot was established, our story was edited, and we were ready to go live! I threw up a light, so that the good folks at home could see the snow, and the show began.

So the show started with the weather gal talking about the crazy storm (and how you shouldn't go out in it... always my favorite part), and then it was coming to our story. But somebody started shouting behind me, which was odd because we were on the side of a freeway in the middle of nowhere. He was not only shouting, but violently cussing. This wasn't good, as we were moments away from our live hit.

I turn to find a grizzled man in a cowboy hat, mad as all hell that our light is spilling into his yard and lighting up one of his trees. I try to quickly explain that we are about to go live and will be done within minutes... but he's having none of it. He has to get up at midnight for work (it is 5:30 PM), and if we don't turn off that light, there's gonna be problems (an abundance of expletives were removed, for our younger readers sake). I reiterated that we'd be done in moments and to just hang on, thinking we were going to be live any second. He stormed off, allowing me to grab only a brief silhouette of the beast:

So just as they come to our story, I hear the director in my ear squawking: "We lost your shot! We lost your shot!" In a panic, I run back to the truck, only to discover that our new friend had been pulling at cables, until he finally found the one connected to the light. "If you plug that motherf'ing cable back in, it's gonna be the last thing you do, you sorry piece of s___." Now, there comes a time in every journalist's life when he (or she) has to ask him (or her) self what he (she) is willing to do for his (her) job (it is exhausting being politically correct). Perhaps some are willing to take a bowie knife to the abdomen, but I decided it was time to cut my losses, especially since our story was already running without our live shot. It was a wasted evening, but at least I didn't end up in some backwoods hick's stew.

Just when you think you've seen it all... Two days later, I returned to the snow (grobble grobble) and realized that, despite it being another awful 12-hour day, at least I didn't have to deal with the Abominable Redneck, and that makes for an ok shift.

Oh, and I later found out that another crew had to deal with this guy last year, and that time he came out screaming without a shirt on. Guess I should consider myself lucky?

The End is Nigh!

This past weekend, I was wandering around at a local flea market. Amidst the piles of sneakers and miscelanious electronics, an RV caught my eye. But not just any RV. An RV... of Doom!

Surrounding this RV were minions armed with pamphlets (mightier than the sword), kindly informing people that they shouldn't bother making plans for 2012, because it ain't happening. Good thing they're telling me now, I got a lotta stuff I wanna cram in before the world ends!

They informed me that the end of the world is right around the corner, and the kick-off party is on May 21 of 2011. (At least it's not on Valentine's Day ("bummer").) According to their literature, which seemed to be legitimate (in that it was legitimately literature), May 21 will be exactally 5000 years since the great flood, and it's 'bout time we had ourselves another Judgement Day! Hope you're not a sinner!

So don't bother with any plans for 2012. Heck, by June I think you're gonna be plenty busy, what with the fire and brimstone and such. This stuff is so much more depressing than that Jehova's Witness literature that I stumbled upon a few years back! But those guys didn't have an RV to back up their claims, so how valid can they be?

I hope, for their sake, that they're right, because that RV is gonna look really silly on May 22.

The F*ck You Burger

Fast food is never anyone's first choice for a meal. You know that, and they know that. But when in a hurry, or when too cheap to dine elsewhere, fast food is there for you. They won't judge your quadruple Whopper or your chocolate shake that has 3 days worth of calories. No, they are there to provide a service, generally with a smile. But not always...

Francisco had a simple request. Grabbing a late night snack after picking up his mother, he asked that their Whopper be cut in half so that they could share. Reasonable, especially given the "Have it Your Way" mantra that BK has promoted throughout the years. But what he got wasn't quite what he ordered.

"A f*ck you burger. They gave me a f*ck you burger, and ok whatever."

Didn't see that one on the menu? Neither did Francisco, so either it's one of those secret menu items like at In & Out, or someone is being a prick. The burger itself seemed normal, but it was the receipt that appeared to be slightly off...

Do you see the part that doesn't look right? Look closely, for you may have missed it at first glance.

The man just wanted to share a burger with his mother. Apparently that's frowned upon at Burger King these days, or at least by some guy named Armand.

So next time be sure to check your receipt, there might just be a lead story hiding on it. And you may want to consider cutting your burger in half yourself.

Energy on Demand, Round 2

Caffeine is an essential ingredient to any successful television program. Without a cast and crew that is completely wired and strung out, many of your favorite shows would never make air. As a result, I myself have become a bit of a caffeine fiend, and will take it in most any form that it comes. However, I have found energy drinks to be much more effective in combatting sleep and restyness, a condition that is rapidly spreading in today's over-saturated news environment.

A few years back, I realized that the energy drink market was rapidly expanding, often in new and hilarious ways. You aren't just buying a jolt of caffeine... you're investing in an image. While many of the drinks back then were amusing, I have found that they hardly compare to what is on the market these days. Better put a saddle on that funny horse, because this is gonna be a laugh rodeo!

X-Treme Drink #1: Molontov Mango con Tapatio

Have you ever been eating a mango and found yourself saying, "Man, this would go great with some hot sauce"? Then you got some hot sauce and said, "Man, this would taste great in an energy drink!" I know, who hasn't. Well the geniuses at Molontov decided to cash in on this brilliant conception, and the results are.... well, probably what you'd expect. Horrid.

At first it's not too bad... hey, who doesn't like mango! But as you swallow it, there is an odd burning that coats your throat and just kinda gets stuck there. After three sips, I had to toss it because I didn't think it would stay down. Seriously, this stuff is rough, and takes the honor of being the only energy drink I have been unable to finish. Brutal.

Plus I've got a feeling that you could actually stuff a rag into the top of it and use it as a molontov cocktail.

X-Treme Drink #2: Hyphy Energy

If you have never gotten hyphy, then you, my friend, have not truly lived. Clearly you aren't a mid-90's East Bay rapper (you almost had me fooled). A word credited to classical musicians Keak Da Sneak and Mac Dre, "Getting Hyphy" seems to have two main elements to it (from what I can tell): You tug on your collar while you dance, and you ghost ride your whip. All that gettin' hyphy is gonna take a lot of energy... fortunately this comes equipped with "a power packed fusion of grape and apple," or as they call it, Grapple!

Can you imagine trying to look like a ruff guy in the hood without a 10 oz. can of Grapple? Forget it. That ain't hyphy. That ain't even gangsta. Speaking of which, that leads us to our next entry...

X-Treme Drink #3: 2pac Hunid Racks

When a dead guy puts out an energy drink, you know it's gotta be strong. Perhaps this explains how 2pac has been able to keep putting out records despite the notable handicap of being deceased. "Respect the Name. Respect the Game. Respect the Drink." Let me aks you, would you mess with an energy drink like that? Didn't think so. Because this is an energy drink "for the real hustlers":

Now if that isn't ridiculous, I don't know what is. Oh wait, yes I do. It's...

X-Treme Drink #4: Extenze Male Enhancement Energy

Feeling tired? Got a small wang? Well look no further! Extenze Energy combines a delicious caffinated drink with a unique "male enhancement" formula that promises to... well... deliver "a big johnson every time":

I don't think I can say anything more about this product. Just pointing out the fact that it exists should be sufficient.

So get out there and start consuming your caffeine in these new and exciting ways! Today's energy drink offers something coffee never can: comedy.

GIANTS!!

The San Francisco Giants are the world champs!!!

Now, I'm quick to admit that I've never been a hardcore baseball fan, as many others claim to be. But I grew up in the Bay Area, and have always considered myself a fan of the Giants (although the A's are a little closer to my heart). I throw out this disclamer because there have been a lot of people hopping onto the Giants bandwagon in the past month or so, and I just want to make clear that I am not one of them. I'm no die-hard fan, but me and Los Gigantes do have a bit of a history.

After all, I did make it out to a handful of games this year, including one with some fellow newsies, and one that was part of a wedding (and just happened to be the game that they were declared NL West champs).

While I wasn't fortunate enough to get in on the World Series coverage for the news (AKA got shafted), I was pleased to be entertained by an exciting collection of games that ended much better than their last attempt. Woo!

And, to top it off, we were lucky enough to get a visit by Timmy "The Freak" Lincecum! He took time out of his busy pitchin' & smokin' schedule to celebrate with the newsroom. What a guy!

You might be surprised to learn that he is much smaller in person than you'd think.

GIANTS!!

If It Speeds, It Leads!!

Everybody knows that TV shows aren't real, and that's fine because reality is usually boring as hell. But it's always fun to catch a show that is so far off base that you're rolling on the floor laughing. NBC's Mercy (RIP) was notorious for this, or so I've been told by medical professionals. But their super-exciting version of reality included an appearance by the local media recently, and it is glorious. Please, behold:

The problems with all this are numerable and fun to list off, so I'll leave it to you to compile them. You'd think someone on the set (the actress was a real reporter) would say, "uh... this doesn't make sense," but I guess they wouldn't want to ruin the fun.

Just glorious.

Alfonzo meets Aykroid... Vodka Ensues

If famed beta tape Alfonzo likes two things, it's mingling with well-to-do's and vodka (not necessarily in that order).

Today, Sacramento offered the perfect storm for ol' Alfie. For you see, Dan Aykroid, star of such classics as Caddyshack 2, My Girl and Tommy Boy, was dropping by a local BevMo to promote his Crystal HeadVodka.


Dan and Alfonzo sat down for a brief chat about the finer things in life, such as vodka and Ghostbusters 3.


Overall, it was an interesting experience. It seemed as if he was really hopped up of caffeine... he showed up half an hour early, got the crowd riled up, walked right past the local media waiting to chat with him, and started signing bottles of his premium vodka. I had a chance to throw out two questions- one was the gimme question about his vodka, which he went into in detail without really looking up from his signing, and the other was about Ghostbusters 3, which was summed up with, "I'm its biggest cheerleader, and that's all I'll say."


While he was brief with me, he certainly didn't come off as an asshole, which is what everyone in the newsroom assumed when I returned without much in the way of an exclusive. He seemed like he really wanted to get people filing through because it was hot outside (over 100... in September?!) and he seemed excited to meet the fans. Each was shuffled through hastily (again, it seemed like he drank a shit-ton of caffeine before the event), but he was very polite. He invited kids to come behind the table to take a picture with him, he thanked people for waiting so long in line, he even called one guy back over because he forgot to shake his hand. Hey, I can appreciate that.

He was even willing to scribble his old "Herbie Hancock" (Tommy Boy, anybody?) on Alfonzo, to which he said, "Ha! It's an old beta tape". He seemed more amused by the fact that it was a beta tape than the fact that it had a mustache... but hey, the man knows comedy, so perhaps I'm the one that's wrong.

Nice guy, although I had a little more fun conversing with Ernie Hudson a few months back, who actually stepped outside to chat for a good 10 minutes with me and didn't seem creeped out by me telling him I used to play with his action figure as a toddler.

Still, this means Alfonzo has canoodled with "nearly 75%" (anybody catch that Ghostbusters reference?) of the Ghostbusters. And, by my count, that ain't bad. Harold Ramis... you're next.

Lord of the Flats

Today started off normal, not unlike any other. The assignment: Modesto. A fair 90 minute drive from home base. No biggie.

As the reporter sidekick and I are crusing along Highway 99, discussing how all our problems would be solved if we could write just one hit song that made its way into every movie for a year or two (Smash Mouth's All Star was the prime example, although Yello's Oh Yeah wasn't without an honorable mention), we suddenly heard a hiss. Then Ol' Trusty (the sattelite truck) started gettin' a bit wobbely. We pulled off the freeway to discover we'd dun got ourselves a flat.

"No worries," I declared as I phoned our tow truck pals (they hear from us regularly). With help on the way, we sat back and prepared to enjoy the unintended break from work. Unfortunately, the tire decided to blow in the middle of nowhere rather than at the Hooters we passed a few miles back. Damn.

Oh well, might as well kick back and relax. I mean, it's not like we were stranded out in the desert, right?

The following is a journal discovered in the back of the live truck the following day:

Minute 10: It has occurred to us that it is an unseasonably warm day in September, even for the Central Valley. It's triple-digit heat, and we're starting to feel it. Hoo-wee...

Minute 15: I notice that my water bottle is only half full. I joke to Reporter Ben that we will need to start rationing it. He laughs... but it doesn't sound like a completely honest laugh. Huh.

Minute 17: Ben asks if I'm gonna eat the bagel that he spots in my backpack. I tell him I'm saving it for later, and he looks as if he's thinking something through in his mind. I shrug it off, but I'm starting to wonder about him.

Minute 28: I start to doze off in the back of the truck, when Ben suddenly grabs my arm and bites me. I scream at him, but he insists it was an accident. As he says this, I see a look in his eyes... a look that couldn't possibly be human. I could only pray that the tow truck arrives soon, before things started getting out of hand.

Minute 37: I notice that Ben has wandered off into the distance... and he appears to be talking to somebody. Could he be losing his mind? Or could he be allying himself with a race of invisible natives? Hmm... I will have to remain vigilant.

Minute 42: It has become apparent that Ben's new colony is planning to steal my bagel the moment I fall asleep. So as long as I remain awake, I my bagel should be safe. But how long can I go without sleep?

Minute 50: The attack came as I pretended to nap in the truck. He and his minions were no match for my army of mustached beta tapes that I had amassed while he was away. His nose is bleeding and it appears as if he may start crying. Serves him right.

Minute 55: It is clear that Ben has lost his sanity, something that could never possibly happen to me. His invisible minions mock me as I consume the last bit of the water rations. I decide that something must be done...

Minute 65: It was a glorious battle. Both our armies lie dead across the battlefield. All that is left is him and me. As we choke each other, screaming to our made-up gods to strike the other down.... the tow truck arrives. Oh, sweet salvation!!

Minute 72: The truck is loaded and on it's way to Big-O. Ben and I agree never to mention this day to anyone. We go on with our lives as if nothing had happened.

Minute 170: We were live in the 5:30 newscast. Just another day in the life of a couple of Newsies.

The End..... ?

Ready for Some Ultimate Football!!

NFL is over-rated. College football has been done. XFL is dead. So what does that leave one to do with all this free time? Why, turn to the UFL... the Ultimate Football League!! Well, I guess the "U" stands for United, which isn't nearly as sweet, but I guess it could stand for more than one thing.

And look at this... Sacramento's got their own team! The Mountain Lions kicked off their season a few weeks back (to a surprisingly large crowd), providing a happy medium for those who crave football but for some reason don't care for NCAA.

Fronting the pack is former NFL guy Dante Culpepper, reunited with coach Dennis Green. Nice to have some recognizable names leading the charge!

But that's not all. Get this... Denzel Washington's kid, John David Washington, is a running back on the team, and Big-D says he's gonna be at all his home games. That oughta help draw the crowds!

I don't know why the UFL plays the same day as college ball, as I find myself not really wanting to go because I'd be missing other games on TV. With only a hand full of teams, you'd think they'd try to corner the Friday night market (yeah yeah, high school) or maybe play in the off season? I'm sure there are good answers to these that I am unaware of, but I'm just saying that's why I haven't gone yet.

But I certainly might. I mean... Denzel!

The Pumpkins Come to Sactown

While wandering the streets of Sacramento (you may know it as "Sactown") during last month's Second Saturday Art Walk (AKA Free Wine!), I came across a flyer hanging upon a lamp post. Normally, I walk past these without a second thought... but this one caught my eye. It read... Smashing Pumpkins, live at the Crest Theater. Um... huh? First off, the Crest is an indie movie theater in downtown Sac that occasionally hosts live events (such as a Henry Rollins appearance some years ago). Second... the Pumpkins are still around?!

Now, before we move along, let me take you back to a simpler time. A time where Nick at Nite had black-and-white shows, Bob Saget was considered a wholesome family entertainer. and Michael Jackson was alive but only kinda creepy. I was in 7th grade art class, when a fellow student offered to sell me a pair of CDs he no longer wanted. Aerosmith's Get a Grip and The Smashing Pumpkin's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness for $5. I was gonna have to skip a few lunches, but I was down. Within the next year, The Smashing Pumpkins became one of my two favorite bands in middle school (Pearl Jam dominated the second half... sorry Aerosmith).

Back to present... I had to find out what this show was about. So I grabbed me up a pair of tickets, and some 14 years later I was ready to check out one of the great 90's depressing music bands.


Now, mind you... Today's Smashing Pumpkins isn't quite the same as it was back in my day. That is to say, it is Billy Corgan and a bunch of new people. But to be fair, he still has a chick on bass, an Asian dude on guitar and a (I can only assume) coke-head on drums. I was sad to see it wasn't the same line-up, although I do recall seeing guitarist James Iha playing with A Perfect Circle when I was in college (at the Salem Armory, which is an awful place to see a show... acoustics are terrible). Still, it's pretty darn close, so I'm in! It's certainly better than the modern day version of Guns N' Roses!

So, I gotta say, they sounded awesome.


After a bit of new stuff, they hit us with plenty of classics- Today, Ava Adore, Cherub Rock, Tonight Tonight... and they sounded fantastic.

I was very pleased to find that the small theater they were playing had excellent acoustics. Here's a quick taste of Bullet with Butterfly Wings:

The only thing that seemed kinda strange was that for the first hour or so, none of them addressed the crowd, aside from a "Sacramento!" thrown out amidst a song I didn't recognize. They just kinda played one song after another, as if we weren't there. And it was clear that Billy was in charge, pointing to the other band members and telling them to do things here or there. So after that hour of rockin', he finally started talking to the audience (he's friggin' huge, by the way). "So, do you guys really call yourselves Sactown? There was a magazine called Sactown in my hotel room, and I gotta say, that's not a great tourist draw. 'Hey, we're hangin' in Sactown!" Funny stuff. After that, the audience seemed a little more receptive, and the band seemed to have a little more fun, breaking into jams (featuring a bit of Led Zeppelin), a drum solo, and such.




They played for a solid 2 hours, and that's great. But for the last 20 minutes or so, they went into some sort of psychadelic jam session. It was cool and all, but after about 10 minutes I decided to take my seat and wait until they finally hit us with the 2 songs blatantly missing from the set-list: Zero and 1979. As the wild guitar solos came to a close, everyone stood up and started cheering, so I could only assume it was time to tear up the last two classics! So I stood up, to find that everyone had put down their instruments and were leaving the stage. The house lights came up, the exit music started, and people shuffled out. What the hell?! Where are the last two songs?? That's like if Metallica didn't play Enter Sandman... if The Rolling Stones didn't play Brown Sugar... If Prince didn't play that song about partyin' like it's 1999. It kinda put a damper on the whole party, at least in my eyes, and I walked out in shock. I hadn't been this upset since Bon Jovi forgot to play that song from Young Guns 2. C'mon, Billy! C'mon.

That aside, I really couldn't complain. The band sounded way better than I thought they would. They pounded through a good number of classics, and the songs that I didn't know, including some of the new stuff, sounded pretty damn good (A Stitch in Time is worth listening to). It was a great show, and very cool of them to tour in small venues that could be easily sold out. In a place like the Crest, there isn't a bad seat in the house (although we did get some pretty money seats).

I'm happy to finally check off the Pumpkins on the list of bands I've seen in concert, and I hope that Corgan can craft together a quality album with his new line-up so that we can get some stuff on par with... well, with the songs that they forgot to play.

Rockin' Memorial Day

With Memorial Day weekend, summer time is officially in go-mode! And what better way to kick it off than with an outdoor rock concert!

Sammy Hagar, the Red Rocker himself, made his way up from Cabo for the Walk and Rock benefit concert. I nabbed an extra photo pass (it's been a while since I've shot a concert), borrowed Don Peso's fancy lil' camera, and hit up Raley Field for a healthy portion of heavy metal.

We had to shoot from mid-field... not quite as exciting as being right in front of the stage, but I wasn't about to complain. And the best part? The good folks putting on the show gave us all tickets so that we could stay and watch the concert after shooting the standard first-3-songs. Beautiful.

I had seen Mr. Cabo Wabo once before, back in high school. It was at an attempted revival of "Day on the Green," a festival that once featured Metallica and Guns N Roses in Oakland. We, being the metal heads that we were, went to the show because Megadeth and Sevendust were playing as well, with Hagar headlining. I had no real interest in seeing him, but he straight-up stole the show. It's just one big party on stage, with fans dancing, pretty ladies running a margarita bar, and Sammy kickin' out some classic party tunes. You just can't argue with that.

Nice mix of his own stuff- Mas Tequila, I Can't Drive 55- with Van Halen tunes- Right Now, Why Can't This Be Love, etc. The guy puts on a good show, I will hand it to him. He knows how to throw a party.

Also performing was Heart. I didn't have much interest in seeing them, and didn't really think I'd know any of their songs other than one or two, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Aside from the new stuff, I recognized pretty much all of 'em, and they sounded awesome. That heavy-set old lady can really wail. Not a bad flautist either.

Overall, a pretty awesome show to find myself at on a warm evening in Sacramento. Let the summer begin!!

Searching for Coco

Like every noble photog, I fought it for as long as I could. But alas, you can only stand in the way of progress for so long. Times, they are a-changin', and I suppose you gotta either hop on board the "superjournalist" train or hop on into the unemployment line.

I was given an impossible task by the notorious assignment desk... Conan O'Brien is in town. No one is returning our calls. So I was to go down to the venue and see if I could somehow talk my way in and get an interview with Conan.

Knowing that this was not only impossible, but quite silly to think there was even a slim chance, I left the station and came back with the following. Everyone was so busy with their day that nobody bothered to approve my script until after I had already tracked and edited the piece, 10 minutes before the show. So here it is, my first package that I've had to fully shoot, write, track and edit...

Unfortunately, it was well received... thus shooting myself in the foot, as I'm sure it will become a regular thing now. Hopefully they just keep giving me stupid stuff. I like that kinda stuff (in case this blog wasn't an indication of that).

Speaking of which, Conan was in town! And I had tickets! And boy, was I ready to laugh!

The show opened strong, with a few familiar faces, as the band jammed for a good 10 minutes. No Max Weinberg, but La Bamba, Pender and a few others were there. Didn't expect that! So far, so good!

Then Coco himself came out, and came out strong! Plenty of bits about our fine governor and baller mayor. His opening monologue had me laughing hard, perhaps in part because I had been going through Coco withdrawal for so long. Hoo-wee, good stuff.

I hadn't read much about the show beforehand, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Turns out he brought lots of friends with him, including some old favorites....

That's right, sidekick extraordinaire Andy Richter was on hand, along with... and this got a standing applause from me... the Masturbating Bear! The quintessential nonsensical comedic entity, in the flesh! Also to be mentioned... the Walker Texas Ranger Lever and a certain comedic foul-mouthed rottweiler...

There was also quite a bit of music... perhaps a bit too much, but still quality stuff. Mostly covers re-written with lyrics about getting screwed by NBC and being unemployed. Oh, Coco, good stuff.

So in the end, how did this wacky 90 minute variety show measure up? Not as much standup as Seinfeld, not as much music as Flight of the Conchords... but honestly, I think I laughed harder than I did at either of those two. Conan is a brilliant comedian, a writer who worked his way through the system and earned his spot at the top. It's truly a shame that he had the crown taken from him so publicly, but the fact that he's willing to spend the time that he's "legally prohibited from being funny on TV" touring the country with a solid comedy act really speaks to his drive and the joy that he gets from making people laugh. I can't wait to see his triumphant return to TV.

It's at least gotta be better than my crappy attempt at a package.