Fireball of Clarity

I  hear "we're hot...firing" before suddenly seeing a 15 foot fireball rushing straight at me and I brace for the worse.  Once the heat hits me the beauty of the flames inexplicably rushing pass me create traces of orange light that illuminate the dark corners of my mind. Recently doubt has replaced trust in there and Mr. Fireball has made that crystal clear. As soon as the flames whoosh by Wild Card says to me, "Are you alright? That was suppose to shoot straight up but we must have a propane leak that's settling on the floor and that bad boy went right at you."  The smell of burnt hair lingers so I'm franticly checking to make sure my eyebrows and eyelashes are still there.  Tree, the other cameraman, runs over "that was super intense to watch Cash Bar it looked like the fireball was trying to eat you." Clarity infiltrates the dark corners and I answer "I ain't no side dish; I'm a main course." Everyone laughs and I walk away knowing that statement is true not only for a fireball but my life in general.  That's life on the set of a rogue build show where we are filming teams playing with pyro, tools, heavy machinery and a warehouse that could fit 8 football fields inside.  I'm surrounded by people but I'm alone in thought. Mr. Fireball made me understand that ultimately I'm on my own and I have to look out for my safety.  The Lady and The Four Year Old have headed for greener pastures so the safety plan includes all aspects of my life right now.  In shortest terms possible our communication lost honesty. I'm like a rocket ship with two speeds because I'm either resting on the launch pad or I'm using 25 million newtons of thrust flying off to the moon.  In the future I need to find an orbiting and chilling in space mode and The Lady's going to follow a new career path.  In any regards,  I'm going to encourage my inner strength to grow and then I will try to use it in different contexts of my life.  My empowered single phase is back and while I don't want to visit all the dark, seedy corners I've trolled in the past I do feel like doubling the explosives and shortening the fuse to send 2011 out in a rough and tough, hard and fast way.

Florence Alabama Vs. Milan Italy

I’m cruising at 32,000 ft. on my way to Milan, Italy for men’s couture fashion week and I can’t help thinking about Florence Alabama. I’m surprised to be saying this but Milan has big shoes to fill and I doubt it can come close.  I was mesmerized by the quaint downtown area in Florence and if you’re ever in the area I would check out Ye Olde General Store, The Original Ice Cream Shop, On the Rocks and a local artist named Good Boy Willy.  Our production was there filming a weekend party thrown by fashion designer Billy Reid.  He converted his downtown shop into a speakeasy complete with bathtubs full of alcohol and hundreds of mason jar candles hung from the ceiling.  Billy invited his best clients to preview his new line and party hard.  My favorite part was the fact he brought in 10 bands to keep his guest entertained for the weekend.  Friday night was a blur of bands but the best part was when Billy Reid jumped on stage and rocked out for the final hour of the party.  Saturday night was my highlight when I had the thrill of hanging out with Justin Townes Earle sharing stories of being too loaded to get on airplanes, getting too loaded on planes and getting kick off during unscheduled stops, and his six trips to rehab. Justin Townes Earle’s set was amazing and he was a one man band making his guitar sound like a bass, drum, and finger picking machine.  After his set a bunch of us gathered outside to smoke and he came out to join us. He looked clean, clear eyed and on the road to addiction recovery. I on the other hand not so much and our conversation ended when he fired up a cigarette and I said, “When you lit that match I think I saw my future in the flame.”  He gave me that tilted head dog look and his handler decided it was time for them to go.  I stayed and drank too much free Buffalo Trace Whiskey and forgot the rest of the night.  I wish I could remember what my future was.

My current show is a whirlwind of travel so after Alabama we went back to LA for a day before it was off to Brooklyn for a magazine shoot.  I’ve been to Brooklyn many times to party but have never stayed overnight and have always retreated back to the island of Manhattan.  However this time our hotel was in Brooklyn so I decided to hit the streets and see what was up. When I walked into Brooklyn's Tiki Bar I knew I would fit right in.  It reminded me of Tiki-Ti in Silverlake and if I didn’t know better I could still be in LA.   It turns out Brooklyn has just as many hipsters as Los Angeles.  It was a quick three day trip and before we knew it we were flying back to Los Angeles.

I was tired from all the travel but I couldn’t slow down because one of my lifelong friends was getting married and there is no way I’m going to miss this wedding.  His family was the glue that kept our group of friends together and we had many nights at their house eating, drinking, karaokeing, and sharing laughs.  Unfortunately The Lady is maid of honor for her cousin who was getting hitched in Las Vegas, so she packed her bags and left for her first visit to the city of sin.  I hope she comes back, but I have my doubts after I caught her looking up Mr. Rooter on the internet.  I don’t know what kind of Vegas show that is but I don’t want to ask too many questions and decide to let it go and let her enjoy her time away from me and The Three Year old.  I want to tell you all about the debauchery of that weekend but the pilot just called the flight attendants to prepare for landing.  Plus this wedding deserves its own page so I’ll get back to you on that one.  I’ve never been to Milan and our schedule is full of fashion shows so the week should fly by for me and that’s good because I haven’t seen The Lady very much this month and I miss her.

http://www.billyreid.com/

http://ci.florence.al.us/

Is it just me or is that Damn River a’ risin?

Things have taken a wonderful turn for adventure this year. The summer is great so far. We are starting off a month long concert binge with Queens of the Stone Age that was opened by The Dough Rollers (Harrison Ford’s son), and then off to Memphis for a three day bender on Beale Street, then sooner or later wrap it up with The Killls at the Music Box in LA.

Mississippi was calling me out in April so I booked a trip home with The Kid. DJ Cash Bar would soon meet me there as Cake opened the weekend up for us. Being back a year later where it all began gave a happy yearning to see the next year unfold.

If I tried to name all the acts we saw I would let you down, as so has my memory for me. I do know the Avett Brothers, Sublime with Rome, Cake, Cage the Elephant, and the Sick Puppies were all awesome. J.J. Grey and MoFro put on a good show, but had to stop because of those damn tornados across the river. Our feet were already muddy so we walked down to the next stage to hear Mr. Jerry Lee Lewis. Now Jerry is a legend, one of the founders of Rock ‘N ‘Roll, and still has “A whole lot of shaking going on.” He is a fire ball on the piano and speaks his mind when he sees fit. A suggestion to the crowd, don’t bounce a beach ball around or he will leave, and maybe without warning. As I looked at the crowd behind us it looked like the 405 to Santa Monica on the prettiest day of the summer. Although, these were all people backed up 200 yards deep to the next stage and 100 yards across from the river to the street. Their ages varied but their love for the foundation of modern music was the same. I will never forget all the children on dad’s shoulders as they looked upon a legend that will take decades for them to realize. Before we left the show to catch Macy Gray, Jerry Lee Lewis rose from his piano and said “Is it just me or is that Damn River a’risin?” The crowd was nuts and he kept on playing like a demon on the ivory.

The days have now become blurry on the rage’n Mississippi. I do know for sure we left the show one night to hit the street and attend a jam session at The Tap Room (the location of contact.) There we walked in on the best damn game the Memphis Grizzlies had played all year, beating the San Antonio Spurs and going on to the playoffs. The crowd was nuts and the street lit up like Mardi Gras as the players came from the FedEx to high five and party with the peeps. I high fived Shane Battier as he walk down the street.

(Experimental Tropic Blues Band)        As the fire alarm drove me from my room to stand on the corner at 9 in the morning the river was surprisingly angry. We had heard the rumors of the flood coming and tornados blowing, but we weren’t leaving just yet. There was still fun to be had and drank to be drunk in Memphis. I still needed to see the brother and sister heavy metal street band, and where were those Plantation All-stars? Well my band craving was settled as we walked into the Flying Saucer for a bite to eat. DJ Cash Bar pointed out the Experimental Tropic Blues Band to me, and my band-aid instincts and hospitality started doing the walking. I invited them for a drink and soon after we realized we talk not near enough of the same language we smoked cigs and did shots call mind erasers (The DJ’s Idea!). Then we became their much obliged tour guide to Beale Street.  I love doing stuff like that, then taking 8 shots of Jack with a Rock Band of Belgium that sworn never to forget this cute couple. DJ Cash Bar would meet up with them again, but  for me the journey was over.

- The Lady


For more of the Experimental Tropic Blues Band (You Tube) or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsc41fABHZg&feature=related

Railroads, Revivals, Reunions, and Returns.

I'm sitting at Pianos on Ludlow St. in Lower East Side and I'm amazed to be watching The Experimental Tropic Blues Band.  The Lady and I met them last week at a corner bar in  Memphis and now I'm seeing them crush the stage in Manhattan. Indeed, it's a small world.  The Lady and I went to the 3 day Memphis Music Festival to celebrate our one year anniversary and what better way than revisiting the geneses of it all. It's exhausting chasing The Lady everywhere.  I'm constantly trying to put the Beale Street funk all over her junk.  Life is short so drink early is the motto around here. On top of that my back is killing me from filming in a cop car for the past three weeks so I'm eating vicodins like tic- tacs.  I'm numb to it all but the music carries on.  Tornado warnings, rain, and floods will not detour us and we are on a mission to see as many of our favorite bands as possible while legs hold our drunk wobbly bodies up. On Saturday we stumbled over to watch Mumford and Sons and that made us reminisce about The Railroad Revival Tour we saw a week ago.  The railroad tour stopped in San Pedro and we started our day meeting up with Dance Dance Revolution and her friend The Revivalist at San Pedro Brewing Company.  We ordered the beer sampler and The Revivalist took a shot down, "Oh my god, I just burped out my nose and tasted it in my eyes."  It was a great show and I think Old Crow Medicine Show stole the show. Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros and Mumford & Sons were no chumps but Old Crow had all the energy.  It was an intimate affair with general admission seating so we found some friends and I yelled"Get Big." We all spread out, shouted "Get Big" and marked our territory.  Dance Dance Revolution and I practiced dance routines we have created while working on various productions.  It was an amazing show and The Revivalist summed it up best on the way home when she said "I love you all and I hope you don't think it's too forward of me but I'm going to get naked and pee on this bush right here."  Now I'm drunk in Manhattan watching my new Belgium friends.  The Lady is in Los Angeles with The Three Year Old but she just got a shout out from the stage, "We wish Lanair was here and she's as sweat as her southern belle name sounds."  The reunion is going well and I'm ignoring the fact I have a 6AM call time. I'm in the greatest city in the world, my hair feels like it's on fire, and I'm ready to lose my wits.

http://www.mumfordandsons.com/

railroadrevivaltour.com

http://www.crowmedicine.com/

www.myspace.com/edwardsharpe

www.myspace.com/​theexperimentaltropicbluesband

sanpedrobrewing.com

Sex Crimes and Female Cops

I’m riding around in an unmarked police car with the sex crimes unit and my cop says “This stupid idiot broke into a girl’s hotel room last night and only finger banged her.  What a dipshit. Why would you go through all that trouble and not rape the girl?” It’s my first day with this detective but I can tell I’m going to like this lady whose hair looks like the 80’s version of Dee Snyder.  My crew is in the backseat and they are quiet.  Golden Ear sound guy is checking his OK Cupid account trying to find his next conquest and The Intruding Producer is sexting with the doctor he hooked up with from the site last week.  Ok Cupid is an epidemic in this production and everyone is on their phone checking their profiles constantly.  I ask Detective Dee, “Does it matter if it’s a finger or a dick? Isn’t it all rape?” “No,” she says, “it depends on the situation…sometimes if the perp doesn’t go past a knuckle it’s a misdemeanor.”  Golden Ear and I say we have to get together that night and write a new song called One Knuckle Misdemeanor.  You have to have a sick and twisted sense of humor to hang with cops and we fit right in. In general, but not always, Police see the perversions of life day after day and the calluses’ on their heart make them hard and insensitive people.  I’ve been accused of being difficult, hard, and insensitive my entire life so making jokes with Police Officers about horrible situations seems natural.  Intruding Producer starts joking that his Doctor hook up is too smart and should be using him as a rebound from her recent divorce, "she's super serious but loves the jokes." “Make them laugh then make them breakfast,” I say.  Golden Ear tells the Intruding Producer he better plan an exit strategy or get ready for the relationship train because the Doctor is GaGa and ready to make house calls to the west coast.  We laugh as we pull up to the beauty salon to talk to the victim.  It turns out she doesn’t want to press charges so we have to load back into the car frustrated that the girl could care less about what happen to her.  Detective Dee sees it every day and brushes it off. One thing I’ve learned filming law enforcement shows is Cops are not babysitters and will not coddle you if you don’t care about the situation.  There is always another call for cops and they are more than happy to clear your situation with headquarters and get going down the road.  All I can say is the front seat of a cramped cop car with a 30lb camera on your shoulder for 10 hours a day isn’t the best office, so I pop an unprescribed vicodin and laugh knowing I’m breaking the law getting back into a cop car.  We’re off because we just got a call from a parent about a couple having sex in the back seat of a car next to a kid’s baseball game at a popular park.  It sounds like high school all over and I contort my aching back into the front seat of the car.  I think it’s going to be a fun three weeks in Ft. Lauderdale and I’m thinking of Hunter S. Thompson as we fire up the lights and sirens off to arrest perverts.
http://www.gonzo.org/
http://tlc.discovery.com/videos/police-women/

End of the Extreme Days

It seems I can’t get out of the south this year. It feels like yesterday I was watching a train of girls leave our production hotel in Tennessee.  I imagine this is what it must look like at military bases when troops deploy.  One by one couples exit the hotel then a hung over crew member loads into a shuttle that is already late to leave for the airport and the girl loads into one of the taxis staged around the corner.  It’s like the Chattanooga Choo Choo this morning and it seems everyone on the crew hooked up with someone last night. I feel bad for one girl who waves bye then begins puking on the sidewalk.  As the van pulls away Cool Assistant jokes “she was gagging on me all night but never puked.” The van was supposed to have 16 people in it but we hit the road with only 8.  Most of my crew is missing. The last I saw Tipsy McStumbles he had his hand down the builder’s sister pants, making out in the alley behind the bar; Bama had a stalker crying over him as he hooked up with a girl in the next booth.  It was a crazy final wrap party of the season at Whities Fish Camp and the Extreme Makeover crew deserves a couple months off.  I can’t wait to get home and see The Lady but it’s a short turn around for me and soon I’ll be riding shotgun with female cops busting perps in Ft. Lauderdale.

Rocco’s –Modern Life for Sure

So I am sure all you readers have began to think we have forgotten you, and how to eat. This is not true, and our deepest apologies to you all. So since my move to Los Angeles we have been cooking in more than dinning out. But to keep you in the loop for a short moment I want to write about out Friday night out. On short notice we booked a sitter and took out to Ventura and checked out a new opening of Rocco’s . We got the last table available, and the hostess promised it was a cozy outside seat. She wasn’t lying with elbow room between me and the tipsy girls at the next table, and a breezy swishing moving space behind me entering the actual bar, the seat was just that cozy and tight. Never the less, I pulled out my purse hanger (a nifty little gadget all women should carry around), and took on the beer menu. After seeing they didn’t have my favorite hipster Blue Ribbon I went on to Amstel, and imagine they were out, so on to Coors. Coors never fails ya! The DJ drank on a draft too while enjoying his favorite appetizer Calamari, that came with two dipping sauces. The Calamari was cooked to perfection and very scrumptious. I give my Corn Flak breaded bone less chicken breast a C+ for concern. The chicken was actually cooked great. But the chicken had burned areas on the outside breading that made for a charred flavor that I don’t enjoy. I had to sink them in the hot sauce and ranch to cover the taste of BLACK CORN FLAKES! Appetizers were all we were interested in here since there was no live music and there was a world of Friday night awaiting us to get our drink on.  

We skipped around town to check out some predetermined blues bars with no luck. DJ suggested we go to a bar he knew of. Funny enough we go in as a couple and it seemed we were the odd ones out, and it wasn’t because it was a singles club. The small red hall way deceived me at first with double wall hanging mirrors. When we first walked in I imagined going to the bar, and then checking out the other rooms. Much to my surprise there were no other rooms besides the restrooms in the back, and the smoke porch out the back exit. So, we sat and enjoyed some Hebrew Messiah Bold Lager…. I looked for the Catholic lite Mary Innocence, or the Christian Jesus Strong, but they were fresh out.

One of the most remembering sayings of the night was a little quick conversation. On the way out for a smoke Christopher Walkins twin shook my hand and said he loved my shoes. After I returned to the bar he was entertaining the DJ with his stories. When Cash Bar went the Men’s room, Christopher Walkins twins said “you know (DJ), I was talking to him, I was thinking… he is one cool cat man.... where do you meet a guy like that?” I turned to his buddy with questionable eyes, and said “I met him in Memphis; where else do you go to meet only the coolest of cats?” Obviously the Twin was not amused with my tipsy humor and walked off from the conversation, insulted I didn’t say This Bar and LA, I guess. Then on that note we hit the local Fifth, and The Draft.  And so this concluded our modern night of beer drinking bar hopping.

Look for my next post about “Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire” mmmm good Wasabi  

Dog Racing, Poker, and swimming with dolphins.

I’m trying not to lose my cool with the guy across from me in the poker room at the Orange Park Kennel Club in Jacksonville Florida.  Every time he wins a hand he yells out “I’m a buzzard and I’m going to eat your chicken.” I’m glad I had a medicated breath strip before I walked in or I’d be smarting off.  In addition, the table next to me just won the bad beat jackpot.  They are jumping around ordering shots and massages. Needless to say all eyes in the room are on them.  One woman won $35,000, one guy won $10,000 and everyone else at the table won $3800.  On top of all that the live dog racing is agitating me more than I thought it would. It doesn’t seem humane. I’m thinking about glue factories and the one time I ate dog in China.  “Track to table in three days.” they say and having seen some of the food coming out of the kitchen at this place I’d say it might be track to table in three hours.  I cash in and decide to head over to Orange Park Billiards Bar across the street.  This is our crew hang out this episode and as soon as I walk in I see Tipsy McStumbles talking to a few locals at the bar.  After joining the conversation one of the girls tells us “I’ve been pregnant seven times but only have two kids.”  Leave it to Tipsy to find the local who has as many abortions as DUI’s.  I thought I had heard it all tonight but then I decided to ask the bartender why she was walking around so gingerly.  In what I would say is opening up way too much to a complete stranger Betty goes on to tell me, “I had a miscarriage today and when I came into work to tell my boss I couldn’t work for the next few days he said I couldn’t leave until someone covered my shift and I haven’t been able to reach anyone who is available.” I tell her “that’s why people call in sick and next time I suggest you use your phone.” She replies “Well my cell phone was dead and I don’t have a home phone anymore.”  Check please.  At times like this I appreciate The Lady and can’t wait until I see her in six days.  After socializing with the locals for a bit, I decide to head home because tomorrow I’m filming underwater while one of our talent swims with dolphins.  As a general rule, you’re not supposed to drink too much the night before you scuba so I’m going to call it an early night.  I've broken that rule in horrible ways before but I don't feel like stroking out tomorrow because I stayed out too late talking to these barflies. I’m nervous because dolphins are seen as cute and cuddly pets but in my mind they are gay sharks and I don’t like the idea of swimming in an enclose area with wild animals.  You never know when they might flip the script. I know plenty of stories about people being bumped, bitten, and tossed around by dolphins.  I’m not afraid of much and life is full of risks so I’ll jump in the water calm as can be.  It will be an interesting day and if I get a chance I’m going to grab their fins and race around the tank a few times. 
http://www.jaxpokerroom.com/OrangePark.asp
http://local.yahoo.com/info-58675973-orange-park-billards-pub-orange-park
http://www.marineland.net/index.php

Table For Three

I look deep into the eyes of the face in front of me and like a giant electro magnet it pulls me deeper into our stare.  If it was a game I'd lose because I blink and can only think "I'm back to chicken nuggets."  Three days ago I picked The Lady and The Three Year Old up from the airport and they are the newest  residents of Los Angeles.  Instant family table for three, please.  The Fifth, my local watering hole, is going to put out an All Points Bulletin. The Lady and I share a love of food and we couldn't wait to get home and cook the second half of our lasagna.  I'm going to be a tougher critic next time I'm eating out because I'm enamored with ours. The Lady cooked up some steaming Chinese chicken stir fry the second night.  She spiced it with tangelos and lemons she picked during my jam session with The Slippers earlier that day. Actor Matt can't get rid of fruit fast enough.  He hates the waste of fruit rotting on the ground so he jokes of loading up his harvest and setting up at the local farmers market Sunday morning. The handpicked citrus added a fresh tangy kick to the chicken and balanced the woodsy flavor of bamboo and water chestnuts.  Tonight I don't know if I'm thinking or hearing "stop whining and eat a chicken." as I'm cooking up fresh ingredients for turkey burritos. Unfortunately our time together is short lived and I will be on a plane first thing Monday morning back across the country to Jacksonville, Florida.  I'm keeping my promise of getting reacquainted with airplanes for 2011. I've cleaned out the house and made 9 trips to goodwill.  I'm definitely not a hoarder and it feels cleansing to have spring cleaning done in January.  The Lady's boxes arrive next week so I'm sure we'll fill it back up.  On a personal note, I just dried out from working in Cocoa Beach and now I'm trying to plan my outfit for productions "What will you look like in the Retirement Home" Party.  Alpha Team loves it's dress up parties.  I'm looking for a walker, beer funnel, bed pan, IV stand, roller skates, horn and a couple gallons of Jack Daniels.  I'm praying I won't be stopped and questioned by TSA.

My Space Ship knows which way to go

I’m filming in mission control; the hub from the Mercury and Gemini space programs during the early 60’s and my phone has more technology than this entire room. Any Astronaut from Nasa’s early days was nuts to strap themselves to rockets knowing they could die any second.  It’s a risky rush I guess.  I’m laughing because I can hear The Host asking our Kennedy Space Center chaperone about space docking. I know he’s not asking about true space and if our guide knew what he was really asking she would be aghast. All I can say is as a crew we're always trying to one up the other person and being at Nasa talking about space docking with real scientist who have no idea they are in the middle of an inside joke puts The Host on top of our leader board. My main concern is the fact The Host's eye is a little swollen because I accidentally hit him last night with a spinning hammer fist when we were playing the Boxer bar game. After hours “Don’t think drink!” is the motto our production lives by and it creates havoc and chaos sometimes. This episode we’ve been hanging out at Time Out, a dive sports bar in Cocoa Beach, Fl, where the bartenders have been pouring drinks by holding the bottle upside down and saying “Tell me when to Stop.” We are staying in the Hiton on the beach and our bar is great but drinks are over the moon expensive. Time Out is right accross the street and the ownership, locals, and bar flies have adopted us nicely. The food is typical...chicken tender, cheese sticks and wings, but nobody is here for the food and it serves as substance to keep drinking. It's a sleepy time of year in Cocoa Beach, but I can imagine during summer this strand of beach goes crazy. As far as work, we sent a Producer to Haiti this week for an integration scene and she is dancing around drunk telling everyone “yesterday I was drinking purified water from a river that had dead bodies, pigs, and people bathing in it and tomorrow I’m going to Disney World.” We go through extremes in my business and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve been having some old school ping pong battles with Head Tech, but other than him nobody has game.  We’re joking because Turbo has a $100 paddle and he’s horrible.  Head Tech tells him “Braggers are losers.”  I beat him 21-7 with a 3 dollar paddle much like the time I saw Rock Foster beat McAbee with a trowel after giving him a 15 point lead during the hay days of San Luis Obispo. Production is in a great mood this week because we had “Take my Job”. Our entire production drew names last episode and then we dressed up and switched jobs for a few hours the other day.  It was great and everyone got a sense of how other departments work on a large scale show. I drew Transpo Captain so I lived the teamster life. Basically I relaxed and didn’t have a 40lb camera on my shoulder.  Tonight is our wrap party at Fish Lips.  In addition Time Out has told us they are staying open until 5AM and bringing back Karaoke so it’s going to get messy.  I wish The Lady was here because I miss spinning her on the dance floor but unfortunately I’m still solo for a few days.  If I knock the host out again I’ll be fired so my spinning hammer fist is under wraps, but I’m warming up my vocal cords and feel a Bones Thugs and Harmony song is on tap.

10 days in Cocoa Beach, Fl

I put down a fork of the worst refried beans I’ve had in years and nearly spit my margarita out when Tipsy Mcstumbles tells the table he broke up with the girl who was not his girlfriend on New Year’s Eve. Bama says “How do you break up with someone who’s not your girlfriend in the first place?” “Well she just really pissed me off so I told her she had to get all her shit out of the house tomorrow.” I read between the lines and think Tipsy suddenly realized he in fact had a girlfriend, freaked out, then on impulse broke up with her at the bar and made her cry 20 minutes after NYE.  That’s one way to start a new year.  Mine was mellower and I spent it with The Lady in Lake Tahoe watching 60,000 street revelers from 19 Bar at Harveys.  I used to be the first one into the middle of a crowd that size but now I’m content to watch the action from 19 Floors up avoiding the massive snow ball fights, drunken amateurs, fist fights for girls, and 10 degree weather.  It was great to kiss The Lady on New Year’s Eve knowing we have special plans to put into action for 2011.

The Lady is on her way back to Sippi so I’m riding solo again this episode. Yesterday I was happy flying 35,000 feet over Texas when I realized I’d be in Florida in 3 hours instead of 3 days.  I love driving and taking road trips but after7 coast to coast trips to end 2010 I’ve made it my resolution for 2011 to get reacquainted with airplanes.  Right now a group of us are sitting at a Mexican restaurant in Cocoa Beach, Fl waiting for the waitress to tally up separate checks for 12 people. We asked her not to because we’re in a hurry; so far it’s taken 25 minutes and the pitchers of margaritas and beer are empty and troops are ready to move onto the Irish Pub.  The Pub is across the street from our beach front hotel.  It’s nice staying on the beach but unfortunately we won’t have any time to enjoy the perks so it’s also a form of torture to wake up looking at wild dolphins swimming in the Atlantic Ocean then watch surfers grind on waves as we load into our shuttle vans like cattle going out to graze.  The Pub is a nice quiet Irish Bar with a few beach bum locals. Fortunately the establishment allows smoking so for the next ten days it’s going to be a loud after hours production bar.  I’ve been here three days and have met NASA Engineers, NASA Astronauts, Clean Cut Military people and the locals we met last night.  I often forget how southern Florida actually is.  I saw first hand last night some fine examples of Southern Rednecks running around town. As expected there are more strip clubs than I’ve seen since the last time I was in Florida.  They are up and down the main drag and the crew is gearing up for a big Friday night but I’m ducking out from that scene tonight. I’m sure the van ride to work tomorrow will have a spirited game of smell my finger and a few names will be put onto the kill board in the camera truck.  When this crew is on the road nothing less than complete debauchery is brought up for discussion.