Between Now and Then...

A new favorite: Roman Candle

2009-10-12T16:42:00.002-04:00

On September 11, Roman Candle brought their well crafted lyrics and heartfelt rock melodies to Philadelphia's North Star bar. Playing songs from their first album "The Wee Hours Revue" and their new "Oh Tall Tree in the Ear" they rocked the small crowd at the Brewerytown bar. Speaking with Logan Matheny, the drummer and one third of the band's family component, I leaned that they were headed to Messiah College next to play with Iron and Wine. I thanked him for hauling their well written songs from Chapel Hill, North Carolina and assured him that I would do my best to spread word so that they would play to a bigger crowd upon their return.

A medical problem within the band forced them to cut their set short, but not before they played a few of my favorites, "Something Left to Say", "Baby's Got It In the Jeans" and a few from their excellent new album, "Big Light" and "Why Modern Radio is A-Ok".

See this band! Their songs are available for download at romancandlemusic.com and you can watch them explain the lyrics to "Modern Radio" here on Paste Magazine.

No, Ohiopyle is in Pennsylvania

2009-08-26T10:33:00.040-04:00

View Ohiopyle State Park in a larger map

"Ohiopyle is like our second home," she said. This weekend I flew home to join my mom and her husband for a whitewater adventure in Ohiopyle State Park, an hour and a half south of Pittsburgh. I was surprised by how familiar she and her husband Ross are with everyone here. They know everyone from the owner of the campground to the waitstaff at Falls Market. My mom can identify boaters from the shore just from the sight of their gear. There's a lot to do in this beautiful little corner of the country: kayaking, canoeing, fishing, hiking, biking, camping and the natural water slides. They come here often, but this time they're here for one reason only: to run the falls on the Youghiogheny River.

There were a lot of boaters this weekend. Over 300 whitewater boaters descended on Southwestern Pennsylvania this weekend for Over the Falls Fest. The 18-foot waterfall at Ohiopyle is regulated by the state and is only open to boaters one day a year. This weekend anyone who registers and pays a fee can run the falls. For $20 plus $10 for a T-shirt thrill seekers can strap on their "PFDs" and conquer the falls. This is only open one day a year, but local groups including American Whitewater and the Three Rivers Paddling Club are working to free the falls for year-round boating.

Not as seasoned boater myself, I took up my position on the sidelines and readied the video camera to capture the carnage. One boater runs the rapids in an inflatable "duckie" that he paddles from a standing position. His paddle is extra long so he can reach the water from higher up. There is a smaller rapid at the top of the waterfall that flows into the main. Boaters who wipe out there run the risk of tumbling over the 20-foot drop upside down. Some do, and end up out of their boats at the bottom. That's called "swimming".

Listening to my mom and her friends, I realized that boater culture has its own vocabulary. It can be humorous and very whimsical at times. Here is a sample of the boater lingo I picked up this weekend:

Attain - To gain distance upstream by paddling against the current.

Boily - Water that is turbulent and hard to paddle in, sometimes in an eddy and often caused by deep water pushing beneath calmer water.
Boof - The sound a kayak or canoe makes when landing from a large drop from a rock.

Bow - The front end of a canoe or kayak.

Boof stroke - The last stroke one takes before plunging over a large drop.

Dry bag - A waterproof sack used to store, among other things, lunch.

Eddy - a patch of calm water on a river behind a rock. Some are still while others are "boily".

Hole - A confluence of rough, rushing water created by water flowing over and around rocks.

Karma Shuttle - When a group of kayakers has only one car to shuttle them back to the put-in and one of the group (usually the cuter of the two and female) goes to the take out and attempts to hitch a ride back to the put-in.
Line - The route taken by a boater through a rapid. "Follow my line."

Maw - The churning water at the bottom of a waterfall or rapid. The backward motion of the water in the maw can draw a boater back into danger.

Play - To remain in a "hole" by paddling against the current. To attempt tricks in said whitewater.
Put-in - The place where boaters enter the river.

Roll - an emergency maneuver executed by skilled kayakers to return to an upright position after being flipped over.

Spray Skirt - Part of a kayaker's gear; it creates a seal around the cockpit of the boat.

Stern - The back end of a canoe or kayak.

Surf - To ride a wave by paddling against the current.

Swim - To "pull skirt" and exit one's boat (intentionally or unintentionally).

Take-out - The place where boaters get off the river.

Undercut - Invisible to all but the seasoned boater, a rock with a hollow under it through which water flows and under which a boater can become trapped if he is swimming.

Worked - As in "getting worked". Getting the crap beat out of you in a big hole.

Rapids and natural features also have clever and sometimes silly names. Here are a few of them:

Bruner's Run

Cheese grater - A dangerous rock lying invisible just below the water's surface
Cucumber

Danger Eddy

Double Hydraulic

Killer Falls - A tiny rapid at river's end that, according to tradition, must be run backwards to appease the river gods and bring good karma to your trip

Squiggley Wiggly

Swimmer's Rapid - where it's safe to get out of the boat and enjoy the water

Vulture Rock - Where we put out and took our lunch and watched groups of inexperienced tourists dumped out of their rafts against Dimple Rock

After the boater's in my mom's company had successfully (or not so successfully) run the falls we put on the river for our day of boating. I don't have any photos from the river unfortunately because my camera isn't waterproof! I survived with only a few bumps and bruises and some sore arms and shoulders. My mom the pro said I did much better this year, only toppling out of my boat a couple of times, and always steadying myself and my gear before danger struck. I even surfed a bit at "Swimmer's".

At the close of the day we headed back to our campsite for smores, snacks, beer and good company. We stayed up late laughing by the fireside. When we woke up Sunday we decided to take it slow. We took our time getting moving. We packed up our gear and within minutes our campsite looked deserted.

Sunday was chillier and overcast, so we opted out of a second day on the river. Instead, we drove down the road a bit to the site of Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece Fallingwater. At the beginning of the tour, everyone stopped listening to the guide and stared down along the path. A small stray kitten had wandered onto the road and was basking in the sunlight there. We headed inside. My photos are only of the exterior as I was not allowed to take shots inside the house. Take my advice and see this amazing landmark (and abomination of engineering) yourself if you get the chance. Wright's vision of form over function is all over this place in the uncomfortable furniture and nonfunctional spherical kettle above the hearth. Horizontal lines dominate and give this place a modern look, even for 1934. There ar priceless works of art in the guest bedrooms including Audubon prints and three pieces by Pablo Picasso. There is a guest house above the main house and a swimming pool fed by a natural spring. Amazing!
After the tour we headed home. It was the perfect conclusion to a tiring but enjoyable weekend.

Enjoy my photos in the slide show below.

It's a boy!

2009-06-03T21:03:00.022-04:00

Meet the newest member of my family!
Last night my sister gave birth to a healthy baby boy!
Mason Stephen was born weighing 7 lbs 4 oz.
Meet my new nephew!

New York City

2009-06-03T20:47:00.011-04:00

Hello my friends,

I have a fresh batch of photos for you. These are from my recent quick trip to the Big Apple. My roommates and I will soon no longer be roommates. We wanted to do something fun together before we all moved away to separate cities, so we crashed in on some friends in New York.
Enjoy these snippets or look at the whole album here.

Nature

2009-05-25T23:08:00.003-04:00

Just looking back over these past few posts, it has become clear to me what the my scooter is to me, beside an easy way to commute to work. It's a way to escape the ocean of concrete I feel I'm swimming in sometimes. Some days I just need to see some green. I'm hoping the weather stays so nice. There's plenty of natural beauty right here within city limits, and I have the means to explore it all.

More to come...

Memorial Day Adventure: Hiking the Wissahickon

2009-05-25T22:42:00.004-04:00

Today I had to be out of doors. I started up my Blue Electric Youth and plowed down Lincoln Drive toward the Wissahickon Creek. Part of the Fairmount Park system, the Wissahickon River Valley contains miles of trails hidden beneath a verdant canopy. It was the perfect place to spend a holiday afternoon. In fact, Edgar Allen Poe liked the Wissahickon so much he wrote about it's natural beauty.

"...the Wissahiccon is of so remarkable a loveliness that, were it flowing in England, it would be the theme of every bard, and the common topic of every tongue..."

Here are some photos from my travels. Or see the whole album here.

An April Scooter Adventure

2009-04-29T22:04:00.020-04:00

My motor scooter didn't survive the winter so well. The battery has lost most of its charge and the motor is difficult to start. I have an appointment to get it looked at next week. I washed it over the weekend and this week I've mostly just been keeping it covered. Today I did get the thing to start. The roar of the small engine was so encouraging that I was inspired to take a three hour ride from where I live in West Philadelphia out through Manyunk and Roxborough and back.
Here are some pictures from today's journey.

I had to take all of these with my cell phone's 1 mega pixel camera because my Canon was locked in my under seat compartment. I accidentally locked it in there not realizing that to reach it I would have to shut off the engine and risk being stranded if it wouldn't start back up again.

I couldn't venture down this path. It was too steep and uneven.

The biggest wind chimes I've ever seen - on the banks of the Schuylkill!

After several hours of riding I finally head home.

BPA Video Program begins at Ben Rush!

2009-04-28T21:52:00.004-04:00

Today was day one for me at the Arts Academy at Benjamin Rush!
Things are moving along nicely. I can't wait to see what kinds of creative video work my students produce...

Penn's Campus is in Bloom

2009-04-26T20:22:00.008-04:00

Here are some more photos depicting the beauty of spring in West Philadelphia.
Tulips bloomed outside the biology buildings on UPenn's campus and a raft of ducklings followed their mother across the BioPond yesterday. I decided to grab my camera and capture this rare array of natural color and beauty.

Pittsburgh Penguins end Flyers' Stanley Cup Bid

2009-04-26T20:12:00.003-04:00

Yesterday after a nail-biter, the Penguins sealed the deal, locking the Philadelphia Flyers out of the playoffs.

image source: post-gazette.com

New work!

2009-04-22T00:37:00.003-04:00

This week I am beginning a new chapter. Some new work has come my way.

I will be teaching The Big Picture Alliance's 6 week film production program at
The Arts Academy at Benjamin Rush.
Using a BPA template, I'll be busy this week putting together a curriculum for the 9th graders at Ben Rush. I'm looking forward to finding out all about them and the creative ideas they want to get out there. I can't wait to see what video work we can come up with.

Stay tuned!

Phil O. visits from LA!

2009-04-21T00:58:00.009-04:00

My good friend Phil was good enough to spend some time with me on his short Easter trip in from Los Angeles. Unfortunately the comic book store we had planned to visit was closed. I will still be committing some of our photos to a certain Photoshop project I promised some friends, so stay tuned...

Springtime at 4400

2009-04-21T00:44:00.006-04:00

Some springtime shots from my window

Election Night Extravaganza

2008-11-03T22:02:00.005-05:00

On Tuesday night the men of 4400 Spruce will be hosting their

Election Night Extravaganza.
It's a night of tabulating results, discussing possible emigration to Canada and political skits performed by yours truly and his creative roommates.

Join us!

Mavericks

2008-11-02T19:48:00.001-05:00

Here is some recent Photoshopping of mine to mark the upcoming election.

Polling begins November 4th in Pennsylvania!

Friends, ten years and counting

2008-11-02T18:25:00.015-05:00

Last weekend was a monumental weekend for my favorite friends. I am lucky to have managed to keep the same great group of friends since eighth grade. A whole decade has gone by and even though we live in different cities, we still keep in touch. We regularly talk and share what's going on in our various cities.
Last weekend four of us got together and helped our friend Manoj celebrate his 23rd birthday. Vineet took a bus into Philly from State College, Neil came up by bus from DC and Manoj's brother came down from New York. Unfortunately, one invaluable member couldn't make it. Ryan had a gig with the awesome country band he's been playing with.
Even though not all of us could make it, I wanted to celebrate the bond that keeps all of us together. No matter what, it seems we'll always have each other. We've kept our friendship important and I hope it stays that way.

A friend recently pointed out to me that she liked the "before and after" photos of us as a group. Here are some of those pictures from the recent times we've managed to all get together in one place. It hasn't always been easy to get us all together, but I'm glad that every once in a while we make an effort to do it. I'd do anything for these guys and I hope that we never grow apart.
Manoj, Ryan, Neil, Vineet, this is for you guys.

Also, upon closer inspection of one of these photos, I laughed when I noticed a certain "occasion cake" in the foreground.

FLEX JOHNSON

2008-11-02T16:51:00.003-05:00

When two roommates decide to stay in on an autumn Saturday and clean their apartment, sometimes strange things happen.
"What do you want to do after we get this place clean? Do you want to work out with me?" One says to the other.
"What if we just spent the whole day working out? I mean, what if there was an athlete so intense that he trained anywhere, anytime?"
One of these roommates is not content to just leave the joke go. He's not content to have a laugh about it and move on. No, he won't be satisfied until it is developed and produced in video form for the world to see...or at least a few blog readers.
A Rocky 2 trailer and a few cans of V8 later we had FLEX JOHNSON...

WATCH THE FLEX JOHNSON TRAILER

Drexel Med Pediatric AIDS Benefit Concert

2008-10-23T22:15:00.002-04:00

Dear friends,
Within the walls of our West Philadelphia apartment tonight a decision was made. Manoj came home tonight with an idea, a plan. The roommates will play next year's Drexel Pediatric AIDS Benefit concert!
The details are being ironed out deep inside our secret lair. Instruments are being considered. A set list is being developed. This is still in the germination stages, but a plan is brewing. More information will come, but if you hear music coming from a certain fourth story University City balcony you will know why...

Stay tuned my friends!

Stagnation?

2008-03-26T21:44:00.004-04:00

Dear friends,

A recent friend gave some great feedback on my website, but said that the latest posts on my blog were a bit old. Let me remedy this. There are many reasons why I haven't posted recently. The Craft Beer Festival and the advent of Philly Beer Week have kept me quite occupied (see my beer blog for a full report) trying new styles and meeting some of the people responsible for bringing great beer into this city.
I've been working on applying to some new jobs, examining the possibility of moving to LA or New York and Photoshopping my website's new look. You will hopefully see this new template very soon.

You may have seen me as a blue blur, scooting to work or around Center City on my motorbike.

I use this gas efficient machine to get around. Sure, it looks dorky but it gets 100 miles on a gallon of gas. Lately I've actually had the problem of friends asking me to ride them around on it, sometimes in semi-filled parking lots at odd hours of the night.
The weather is getting warmer, so I'm going to get it tuned up and ready for the cruising season.
Anyway, It's almost bedtime and there will be plenty more to post in the near future. I'm road tripping to New York soon so I'll have to tell you about it.

Until next time,
Zack

Dad's Letter to the E-Righteous

2008-01-20T21:01:00.002-05:00

Guys,

I've consulted "God's Big Book Of Internet Miracles" to get some clarification on this particular sacred icon. Here's what I learned:

Firstly, you don't get as powerful a miraculous surprise for just sending this picture 'round and 'round to the same people again and again. This is the third time one of you has sent it my way and, according to my information, the next one of you who does so will have something embarrassing happen to them within three days which will then be posted on YouTube and seen worldwide. ("Big Book" pp. 653-654)

Secondly, here's the full story on the President of Argentina: after his son died (and realizing, of course, that it was because he'd referred to an email he'd received eight days earlier as "junk mail") he did penance by sending a photograph of Padre Pio to six thousand Catholics (and four Mormons) within six days--the typical penance in these cases. As a result, his wife bore him TWO MORE sons within the week, truly miraculous considering she wasn't even with child at the time of the whole "junk mail" incident. The President even claims that he likes his two new sons better than the one who died.

Oh, and I should update you on this, too: Alberto Martinez has found his lost family. Apparently this incident is now being explained as either a hoax or, as one family member put it, "a game of hide and seek that went too far".

Finally, a small and hopefully comforting thought: God's mercy is extended even to those guilty of the gravest of sins. You may have deleted a scanned, uploaded photograph of a painting of Mary and even then He will not turn His face from you. You may have failed to forward a badly written poem about miracles, and still He holds out hope for you. You may have muttered under your breath as you opened yet another allegedly inspirational piece of fluff accompanied by a Celine Dion song, and yet you are still not separated from His love. You may have even forwarded the picture below to only 19 people and not the 20 stipulated by "God's Big Book..." but still He waits patiently to embrace and forgive even such a transgression. Don't despair. Keep getting back up each time you fall, determined in your pursuit of what is good and holy. And don't forget the ultimate goal: to fill the email boxes of everyone you know (and even those you don't know) to overflowing with pious thoughts about how God rewards His faithful (through the lottery) and punishes email delinquency (did you hear about the member of the Honduran Cabinet who had his nards cut off after sending around the dirty Mother Teresa joke?)

"The President of Argentina received this picture and called it 'junk mail', 8 days later his son died. A man received this picture and immediately sent out copies...his surprise was winning the lottery.
Alberto Martinez received this picture, gave it to his secretary to make copies but they forgot to distribute: she lost her job and he lost his family.
This picture is miraculous and sacred, don't forget to forward this within 13 days to at least 20 people. Do Not Forget to forward and you will receive a huge surprise!!"

Confessions of Dormont Inferiority Complex Guy

2007-12-16T01:27:00.001-05:00

The following is from a recent email from my father, Ed Cyphers, inspired by real events:

..so there I was standing in the Village Square Giant Eagle at the customer service counter...and they were there, too. They were from Mt. Lebanon. They were from Bethel Park. They were from Uppity St. Clair. They wore L.L. Bean. They carried Gucci. They stood and waited, their frowns clearly conveying the fact that they were not used to waiting like this. They had money, they wanted to buy--how dare the impertinent young man at the counter tell them that there were conditions on how...and when...and in what order they may step up and wield their mighty plastic!

I was there one and a half hours earlier that morning, too. And the frowning masses were not there then. Just me. And I'd stepped up to the counter and asked "Has anyone else come in for Van Halen tickets yet?" And the young man had told me that, yes, about 6 or 7 others had already been in. Explaining why they were not currently in line, he said, "We're doing a lottery. You take a ticket and at 9:45 we draw to decide everyone's place in line." He shook up a pouch full of numbered tickets and extended it to me. I pulled one out. Number 904. "Good Luck!" said the smiling counter guy. I asked if I could leave and come back and he said, "Just make sure you're here by 9:45".

I went home, resigned to trying to purchase my tickets online. After all, I'd had previous experience with the speed at which the best tickets go at a ticketmaster window. I was second in line once for a Moody Blues concert. The guy in front of me got front row center. Twenty seconds later I stepped up and could do no better than the ninth row. Twenty seconds, nine rows. And this for The Moody Blues, not the hottest ticket around these days. But Van Halen...I mean I know they're no Hannah Montana, but I knew for the chance to see Diamond Dave reunited with his old mates, a few seconds could mean a few SECTIONS. Unless I were one of the first five in line, I reasoned, I'd be in binocular territory at best. And what was the point of dragging my arse out of bed for that in the first place?

I turned on the computer. Sixty minutes till tickets would go on sale. I checked my email...fifty minutes...I listened to some tunes on Amazon.com...forty-five minutes...I went back to the Ticketmaster site and stared at the picture of the band. I signed up for a few feeds, to let me know when some of my favorite artists would be coming to town...forty minutes...then I thought about the yuppies forming a line at Giant Eagle...muttering and sputtering at the thought that there were others, other Gucci-carrying, L.L. Bean-wearing, superiority-complex-having espresso-sippers standing right next to them WHO WERE GOING TO GET SOMETHING BETTER THAN THEY WOULD GET! I thought about how a Van Halen reunion show (or a Hannah Montana show, for that matter) was one of the great equalizers in life. Theoretically, at least, some lowlife from, say, Dormont--someone like, say, me--could come in there and snatch their materialistic gratification, at least temporarily, right from under their upturned noses. And right at the very height of their so-called "Christmas shopping season", which is the euphemism they apply to the two months or so when they are absolutely IN HEAT for any shopping-related act. What if it were MY lucky day, not theirs? After all, luck doesn't care what car you drove to Giant Eagle, or even if you showered before you went there (I had a late one the night before, okay?).

Then I thought one last thought: I thought back about two weeks to the day I'd taken my twelve-year-old son to Carnegie Science Center and Sports Works. And how we tried our hands at that hockey game. You know, the kind where you can manipulate the players with the knobs on the side of the "rink". My son and I stepped up and each manned our "knobs" to play with, and against, a random assemblage of kids and parents. I noticed one dad--the L.L Bean-wearing type, doing a lot of yelling as he did his best to monopolize the puck and set up his young son, whose "player", a forward, was perched in front of the goal. Every time his son got a chance with the puck, Dad yelled instructions to him. Every time Dad had it, he took an excruciating amount of time (while all the other kids and dads twiddled their knobs and waited) to set up the perfect opportunity for his son. Was this microcosmic for their relationship, and the very essence of the dysfunctional relationships of so many fathers and their sons? Was it a perfect snapshot and distillation of Second Generation Yuppie Syndrome? Was that son going to grow up less able to adapt to life's travails because his dad would always try to set him up with the cherry-pick goal?
I didn't know. I didn't care. I was too busy knocking the friggin' puck off that kid's stick in front of the net. Then it happened: the kid got off a weak shot, which just died of yuppie-dad-induced apathy in front of the goalie. The goalie, as it happens, was manned by a kid who was barely tall enough to see the rink. Clearly, he wasn't going to clear the goal mouth. I don't think he even knew what a goal mouth was. I stepped in to quash Yuppie Dad's dreams for at least one more minute (I'd decided I'd be staying there playing D as long as he wanted to keep feeding his son the puck, excluding the other kids and yelling way too loud) and... (man this hurts) I knocked the puck INTO MY OWN TEAM'S NET.
Yuppie Dad orgasmed, "YEEEAAH!" and gave me the kind of smug look that communicated much about his superiority, as well as the superiority of the fruit of his loins. His son said nothing, knowing he had nothing to do with scoring the goal. His dad then, in true quit-while-you're-ahead fashion, steered junior from the table to some other exhibit, while I wished that knob-hockey had referees who could nullify goals by calling a two-minute penalty for being a wank.
At any rate, the hockey thought shook me out of my chair with thirty minutes left till on-sale--and fifteen till the guy who'd wished me luck would draw numbers to decide who was who on this particular morning. Feeling neither particularly lucky or unlucky, just unshowered, I sped back to the Village Square super-duper market and walked inside unhurriedly just as the numbers were about to be drawn. The first number called? My 904, of course, or I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of telling this story.
Oddly, I didn't answer right away. I think it was because my breath was momentarily taken away. Whatever the reason, hearing nothing but their groans around me did add to the beauty of the moment. It also necessitated the man calling the number a second time while they all suddenly brightened, perhaps anticipating the possibility that Mr. 904 wasn't present, adding still more shimmering, radiant beauty to the moment. "Take your time", I thought to myself. "All these guys who chafed at having their place in line decided so arbitrarily, as if front row Van Halen tickets are their divine right in life. All these women who came here to wait on behalf of their teenage sons who were too busy at home joy-sticking their game systems (I imagined, but that doesn't mean it's not true). Today they are Veruca Salt and you are Charlie Bucket with the friggin' key to the chocolate factory". I briefly fantasized about holding up the golden ticket that would get me to the front of the line, then offering it to the highest bidder, taking their money and going back to bed. I thought perhaps that watching them all squirm and agonize, then taking money from one of them--such easy money--would probably be just as satisfying as actually seeing Van Halen for the first time in my life. Then I had one more thought: I tend to think too much.

"Right here", said the unwashed guy from Dormont calmly, stepping to the FRONT.

Two new places where you'll see my name:

2007-11-26T20:08:00.000-05:00

Hello friends!
My work was recently published in the Philadelphia Inquirer travel section. You can read the article on Philly.com.

Also, check out my new beer blog at zacksbeerblog.blogspot.com

Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Zack

Cited for Too Much Fun

2007-08-25T11:06:00.000-04:00

I suppose I didn't have to ride ten blocks out of my way on my motorbike today, but I did it in the name of fun. I cling t0 the word 'motorbike', deeming 'scooter' too wimpy and effeminate, as if it makes what I did any cooler. As I rounded Rittenhouse Square, nowhere near my route home, I knew I made more than a few peoples' days. Even the stiff upper lipped diners at Rouge grinned at me as I motored by. They don't think anyone saw them break their stoic Saturday morning brunch faces, but I saw them through the visor of my helmet. The five construction workers working in and out of the manhole on Walnut gave me a cheer. A random left turning driver gave me a celebratory beep. Hordes of incoming freshmen gave me strange looks as I sped past their orientation groups, my dramatic getaway foiled by the quickly changing yellow light. Still, I know I made a few of them laugh. Was it the girl I saw sitting and sipping in Starbucks trying not to crack a smile? Was it the black man hanging out of the white conversion van who offered me an enthusiastic cheer? Was it the double decker tour bus that spied me as I rounded the corner? There's just something about riding with an oversized stuffed Spongebob on the back of a scooter that turns heads and brightens days.

A Wedding on the Beach

2007-04-25T11:50:00.000-04:00

Hello my friends!

This post is a few weeks late, but I wanted to fill you all in on the events of my amazing weekend two weeks ago. During the weekend of Saturday the 14th I was invited to attend and shoot my ex-stepdad Rich's wedding on Anna Maria Island, south of Tampa, Florida. My relationship with my stepdad is notoriously difficult to explain (as is the case with most of my step-family), but Rich was a second father figure to me through my high school years. Our relationship has relaxed, and I've stayed close to Rich and his family.
So, I was invited to attend the small beach ceremony, but I also got the chance to earn some cash by filling the role of wedding videographer. I took several hours of video footage which I haven't had a chance to post or even begin editing yet, as I am in the midst of my last ever final exams. I do have pictures, though, and I'd like to post some so you all can get a glimpse of this incredible weekend.
It was all very relaxed. Friday I flew from a wet and miserable Philadelphia to a near-tropical paradise. I had to attend my morning Fiction workshop (I've missed too many classes already). So I made a run to Center City to pick up a last minute belated birthday gift for my sister and then came back home to pack. I waited for the R1 in my wool coat and scarf which I promptly removed at the airport. I decided I would have felt silly arriving in Tampa dressed for a blizzard.
I flew down on Friday. While Philly was experiencing 40 degree rain and wind, Tampa was sunny and comfortable and in the 80s! I took a picture of the thermometer just for fun.

A jolly old man named Bruce picked me up from the airport. As we drove from Tampa to Anna Maria Island he pointed out landmarks and various points of interest. This is the Sunshine Skyway Bridge that crosses Tampa Bay.

I got a glimpse of Tropicana Field and the Pirates training camp. I arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the rehearsal dinner. Afterward, the 30 or so wedding guests walked to the edge of the Gulf, and at the suggestion of the photographer wrote wishes for Rich and Kelly on seashells and tossed them into the Ocean.

I've been to a lot of weddings, but on Saturday I was a part of just about the best I've seen yet. About forty chairs were arranged before the chuppah on the beach and the guests and even the bride and groom went without shoes! Actually, Kelly was wearing footwear. She had a pair of white flip flops that printed "Just Married" in the wet sand wherever she walked.

Click on each of these pictures to enlarge

Margaret Atwood

2007-04-10T00:12:00.000-04:00

Dear friends,

Happy Easter!

I'm a day late, but I hope you all had great weekends. I hope they were full of chocolate, food, family, and a li'l bit o' resurrected Jesus.
I'm finishing this day the way I finish all others, sleepily passing time at my desk. I'm sick as a dog and repeatedly pulling tissues from a box at my right hand.
I just finished reading a story I have to read for tomorrow's Short Story class. It's "Happy Endings" by Margaret Atwood. Atwood's story is a series of variations on a theme. It's a sort of "choose your own adventure" for grown-ups. After her story twists and turns and the variations unfold, Atwood makes an observation about stories:

"The only authentic ending is the one provided here:

John and Mary die. John and Mary die. John and Mary die.

So much for endings. Beginnings are always more fun. True connoisseurs, however, are known to favor the stretch in between, since it's the hardest to do anything with.

That's about all that can be said for plots, which anyway are just one thing after another, a what and a what and a what.

Now try How and Why."

This observation made me curious, and I started thinking about beginnings and endings. It might have been the Pascal festivities, but the first story I thought of was the story of Jesus Christ. The bible only gives us the beginning and the end. We hear the exciting tale of the Savior's miraculous birth in a humble place. From there the story jumps forward thirty years to recount a few things he did and said in his middle age and then we are zipped right to his spectacular execution.
Where's the middle? Is this part glossed over simply because it's not exciting? Maybe there isn't much to tell. "Jesus is educated in his father's woodshop, is the pride of his virgin mother's heart, and wows his friends with a few small miracles in the school yard..." Maybe the middle just isn't worth telling. I have to admit I'm curious about why these tender years were simply skipped.
It is said in many media that the start and finish are the crucial parts of anything. Imagine you're a musician playing in a band. If you are trying to gain a reputation you want your audience to remember your shows. For this reason it's important to start and finish with your best songs. A strong start will draw listeners in and a climactic finish will give fans something to talk about on the way home. No one remembers the middle.

To take this a step further I could say that the beginnings and endings of anything are the parts we remember best. The tumultuous and uncertain start to a passionate relationship will stick in the memory along with the turbulent breakup. The ending of a movie leaves an audience wanting more.
Hmm... this all has me very intrigued. Perhaps if I taylor this blog post to Ms. Atwood's specifications you (my readers) will remember it better. I began with a large multi-colored holiday greeting, so what should i conclude with? Maybe a comical nonsense phrase, bold in large multi-colored letters would bring this post to an exciting close... nah, that would be rididculous.

Bouncing beefy gubernatorial monkey pants!

love,

Zack