Green Day

If there's one thing Americans like, it's alcohol-infused holidays. New Years Eve, Fat Tuesday, Super Bowl Sunday... all days where it is considered socially acceptable to get silly-drunk and act a fool.

Today is the grand-daddy of them all... St. Patrick's Day! A day where some of the lesser racial stereotypes are embraced with celebratory alcoholism. Today I stumbled onto a St. Patrick's Day Parade in Old Sacramento. I didn't realize that there were traditionally parades on this day, but I wasn't about to argue with the green-laden firefighters and dancing children!

So before the day is out, find yourself a green beer, shout at somebody in a funny accent, and do a wacky jig. Ah, this day comes but once a year!

In addition, the following video resurfaces around this time every year, and I never get tired of it. While discussing it in the newsroom the other day, I was shocked to find that many had never seen it before. Being that it's one of the great news packages of our time, I feel it's necessary to pass it on, in case you haven't seen it or may have forgotten about it. This shining example of journalistic storytelling comes all the way from the merry land of Mobile, AL:

Ah, a classic! Right up there with the News Desk Monkey and the almighty Bubb Rubb! I hope to one day be involved in a story that ascends into the Hilarious Crap Hall of Fame. That prospect is what gets me out of bed every morning.

Shock-and-Awesome!

Nothing says America like big, bad-ass killing machines! Despite the finest efforts of a handful of protesters presenting signs that made wacky declarations like "War planes are killers!" the Sacramento Air Show went off without a hitch this weekend, displaying the might of the US military in a good ol' fashioned shock-and-awe style.

It had been a while since I had gotten around to attending an air show. Last summer I was blessed with the coolest assignment of all time- flying on a refueling plane for the Thunderbirds during the air show, but I hadn't seen one from the ground since I was a young kid, when we went into San Francisco to watch the Blue Angels. Now, some 15 or 20 years later, I was just as impressed by the technical skill and kickassitude of these pilots.

The whole time, I was thinking that the air show is just a classic way of flexing a country's military muscles. It's like that giant guy at a bar who breaks a bottle over his head when you hit on his girl... you understand that you just need to back away. This is why I think the military needs to start preforming these air shows over any countries that pose a potential threat. Just send the Blue Angels screaming past the leader's castle (or whatever). "Wow, look at how close they are to each other... I wouldn't want to see what they could do when they get mad!" International crisis averted, and all the children of the country get to enjoy the performance! Everybody wins!

It's hard not to be impressed by these guys. Perhaps one day I'll have a jetfighter of my own. Then people would respect me...

Mayor the Bounty Hunter

As previously reported by Photocalypse reporters, the Sacramento mayoral race is heating up. Attacks are flying between the current mayor Heather Fargo, a career politician, and her main opponent Kevin Johnson, a former NBA all-star. However, amidst the blazing gunfire between the Hatfargos and the McJohnsons (an attempted reference to the Hatfields and McCoys... which clearly didn't work), one man rode in from the sunset to declare that this ain't no two way race!

That's right... Legendary Sacramento bounty hunter Leonard Padilla has thrown his (cowboy) hat into the ring and declared that he's ready for a down-and-dirty tussle.

Woah momma, we've got ourselves one doozy of a mayoral race!

That leaves us with one wacky political three-way. A career female politician, a young black superstar looking for change, and a battle-hardened tough guy. Once again, I can't help but feel like I've seen this somewhere before...

All I know is that this race is about to get ugly... and that makes for terrific humorous commentary!

Unfortunately, this won't be the first side-show hoopla election that California's seen in the new millennium. How could we forget 2003's gubernatorial recall election, where incumbent Democratic Governor Gray Davis (a friend of The Photocalypse) was dethroned and granted the title of "second governor in US history to be recalled". The election, consisting of 135 candidates, eventually resulted in the crowning of former terminator Arnold Schwarzenegger as governor (another friend of The Photocalypse). While the mayoral election isn't quite the hullabaloo that this was, it's shaping up to be ripe for mockery. More to come...

Carrie in the Sac

Few things get Fox affiliate producers as excited as an Idol story on an Idol night. But hey, can you blame them? When you have a show that takes the number 1, 2 and 3 spots in national ratings as your lead-in, it'd be stupid not to capitalize on the rabid fandimoniun. So capitalize we did, as we (and I) have done several times before. This evening, the News Ratings Gods graced us with a concert at Sacramento's Arco Arena, featuring former-Idolite Carrie Underwood opening for Keith Urban. Ca-Ching goes the Ratings-O-Meter!

And so I found myself attending a concert at Arco Arena for the second time this week. We were permitted to record 90 seconds of her second and third song, after which our connection to the soundboard was cut and my arm was tugged by the media relations lady. I couldn't shoot anything else, including happy fans or dancing hotties. Any time I tried to shoot outside of those 90 second windows, I got the arm tug, followed by a stern head shake.

Carrie was unavailable to the media, so we relied on a handful of MOS interviews, which primarily consisted of teenage girls talking over each other or 6 year old kids trying to sing her songs. Good stuff.

So at the end of the night, we hopefully reeled in some fans and fascinated them with additional stories of doom, destruction and other common evening news topics.

I've found that some people in the biz hate stories like this. They'd rather be chasing after police-involved shootings or watching a family's house burn down. Granted, this isn't exactly the shining example of investigative journalism, but I enjoy one of these stories every once in a while; I get to have fun with it, get paid to see something cool, and get a break from the usual carnage and mayhem that I'm forced to wander through on a daily basis. Give me a few more years and maybe I'll be jaded enough to complain about covering these "sorta-stories", but for now I'm happy to volunteer.

Now, just to be clear, I'm not a fan of Carrie Underwood, American Idol, or country music in general (although Cash's last couple of albums were excellent). But when you see an arena full of hot chicks dancing around in cowboy hats, well... it's hard to dislike country music.

The Concert that Almost Wasn't

I've always been a fan of a good old-fashioned rock concert. Pounding some beers and banging your head for a few hours seems like a fine way to spend an evening if you ask me. However, Sacramento only occasionally gets any decent acts coming through town, as they usually hit the SF Bay Area instead (about 90 minutes away). So when I saw someone decent coming through town on my day off, I jumped at the opportunity.

The band was Linkin Park, and let me preface this by saying that I used to very much dislike these guys. Back when they first came around, I was fairly outspoken about my hate for their lame rap/rock hybrid music. A few years later, I caught them opening for Metallica and, while I had no interest in seeing them, I had to admit that they put on a heck of a show.

So anyway, a few years later their new album comes out, produced by music god Rick Rubin... I decided to give them another chance, started to find a new appreciation for their music, and I found myself at Arco Arena last night watching a killer rock show.

However, it almost didn't come to be, as a result of my own stupidity, and here's why...

So I've got the whole evening planned out- we'll leave around 6, hang out for a bit and grab a beer before heading to the show, and arrive towards the end of the sub-par opening acts, with plenty of time to pound another beer or two before the real show starts. It was a beautiful plan.

With about an hour to go before I had to leave, I decided to kill some time by cleaning out my car (which still has things in it from my big move over a year ago). I put the keys in the ignition so I can get some rockin tunes going, unlock the back of the car to begin the process, and find that, for some reason, the back of the car is still locked. I go back to the front door, only to discover that I hit the LOCK rather than UNLOCK button, and there I stood, staring at my keys locked in the car, with time ticking away before the concert.

With five minutes to go before the apartment office closed, I bolted through the complex to get the spare key for my apartment, with hopes of finding the second set of car keys burried somewhere in my desk. I caught the apartment lady just as she was locking up the office! Disaster averted. But wait... my apartment is, for some reason, the only one without a spare key! So now I was in trouble. Car keys locked in car. Apartment key attached to car keys. Concert tickets locked in apartment. Time ticking away.

After realizing that my apartment couldn't be broken into (which I suppose is a good thing) and that busting out a car window would probably be more trouble than it's worth, I frantically called AAA. Despite being in the midst of rush hour, they actually got a tow truck out to me in about half an hour (which I spent frantically pacing around the parking lot).

Sure enough, he jimmied open the door within minutes, I retrieved my keys, and actually left on schedule! Thanks AAA!

So as you can see, I have a knack for making simple things more difficult than they should be. After that hour, I really needed a way to let out all of my angst and frustration. Fortunately, I knew some guys...

Player for Mayor

It's official... Former NBA player Kevin Johnson has decided to give back to the community by conquering it. That's right, the hometown boy is running for mayor of The Sac.

KJ grew up in a not so nice part of town, and after finding some success in professional sports, he returned to help clean up the streets. The only problem? Local newsies caught wind of reports that the properties he owned around the area weren't being maintained, gaining him the juicy title of "Slum Lord". Despite cleaning up the properties and insisting that he didn't know about their poor conditions, many reporters have refused to cut him any slack. His campaign stance is that politics-as-usual has got to stop so that real change can happen within the city.

Meanwhile, the current mayor ain't plannin on goin nowhere. Heather Fargo, who's been around the mayor's office for some time now, doesn't think he has the experience to hold office and is just riding on his popularity.

Why does this all seem so familiar? A young black man promoting change and hope, and an older white woman tauting her record and attacking her opponent's. The only difference is that there isn't a fuzzy little elf yammering about it all day long on cable tv.

I'm just happy to see more former NBA stars trying to clean up the streets of this town.

On a completely unrelated note, if you're looking for a good laugh, check out this song. I've been laughing at these guys all week. Good, quality humor.

American Idol and Ice Cream

As many of you are probably aware, kids these days love the American Idol show. Kids and Fox news producers, that is. For you see, where there is American Idol, there is ratings. Could you ask for a better lead-in to a newscast? Not really, unless you want to try to suck in the CSI audience by leading with a gang shooting in tha hood. Or, better yet, lost hikers, right after a kickass episode of Lost! (Anybody remember my suggested Folsom Prison Break/Prison Break tie in from back in the day? It didn't take, but it was still fairly brilliant.) Still, few fans are as rabid as those of American Idol, so whenever an "Idol Story" comes along, they're sure to grab it up, promote the hell out of it, and bury it nice and deep in the newscast.

Now, let's take a moment to picture yourself as a backwoods hillbilly, out tryin to shoot yo'self some food, when up from the ground came come bubblin' crude. That's basically what happened tonight, except replace the hillbilly with myself, and the oil with Melinda Doolittle, former American Idol starlet, all falling on an Idol night. Do you hear what I hear? That's right... Ca-ching!

Last year's Idol favorite made her way to town compliments of Dryer's Ice Cream, as a local resident won a contest to allow her to host an ice cream party, along with 20 friends, and a performance by Doolittle. Now that's a contest!

Now, at this point I feel I should point out that I am not, nor have I ever been, a fan of the show. I feel that I'd be more entertained by a rip-off reality show called American Idle, where fat, lazy, incompetent Americans face off against each other in an effort to prove who is the least active member of society. Whoever gets a heart attack first loses... or wins... I haven't worked out all the details yet, but I feel that I'm on to something.


That being said, I'll return to the adventure. Melinda was a lovely lady with a terrific singing voice. She serenaded the crowd with a handful of requested songs (my "Taking Care of Business" request was denied) and passed out an abundance of free ice cream before calling it a night. Easy story, easy promos, easy ratings!

Plus I came to the realization that it is very difficult to photograph a singer without capturing some sort of negative image, whether it's pain...

sheer terror...
...or just flat out bitchyness...

...none of which represented the song she was singing. That's why I'm glad my profession involves moving pictures... it's just too easy to misinterpret a still image.

The downside is that you have to put up with people ruining your shots, such as junior photog Joseph, who managed to make his way into a good majority of my shots...

...but I'll cut the kid some slack, seeing as how he was such a huge Melinda Doolittle fan. After we finished shooting, he rushed over to her to grab her autograph:

Well, in all fairness, I got one too, but only because I was worried about leaving the George Barris autograph alone in my locker:


Hey, after designing all those Batmobiles, the guy deserves a little female companionship!