Loss of Logical Reasoning Ability

It was Thursday, November 10th, and the eve of an anticipated journey up to Albany, New York with local metalcore veterans, Loss of Reason. First of all, who the hell chooses to drive from Hampton Roads, Virginia all the way up to Albany to play first on a show, then turn around and come back the following day? Loss of Reason – That’s who! What moron decides tags along? Me – I’m that moron! Anyway, the plan was to leave around eleven, or midnight that night so we could arrive early and spend the day in Albany, see the sights, eat some pizza (as you must when you’re in NY), and check out the locally known and praised burrito bar, Bombers – And that’s exactly how this trip went down!

I must have been traveling with the wrong people in the past because usually our scheduled departure isn’t even close to met, and we end up two hours or so behind. Not this time, though. I met up with Ryan Ware and Clarence Freeman at Andrew Hess’s close-enough-to-beach-front apartment to load up the van, and then head to Norfolk pick up Chris Love and Ian Tobey. We swing through, scoop the rest of the guys up and we’re off! And what time was it? 11:40 pm… Holy hell.

Ahh, the van. I rode in this van once before on a trip to West Virginia to go tubing down the Potomac River, and it treated the group well. The passenger seat up front is one of the most uncomfortably cramped things you can imagine, the middle has two captains chairs, and the rear is a bench seat that can fold down into a surprisingly comfortable bed. This is where I would spend the next nine or ten hours of my life.

We all started out a little goofy and giddy, but as the night went on our moods quickly settled. We reveled in laughter with random conversations, and jests made towards Ryan for being rather inebriated while stuffing his face with snacks. But, only a few hours into the trip our circadian rhythms began to kick in and sleep became imminent – For most of us at least. Ian is a machine – He drove the whole night through, while the rest of us snored over state lines.

At roughly ten in the morning the crew roll into Schenectady, New York to meet up with an old friend of Clarence and Ian’s. As we piled out of the van, still half asleep, we see a large, initially intimidating, individual emerging from the front door of the house we were parked in front of. This man is Dan Asylum – a promoter for the Albany music scene, and genuinely awesome guy.

With most of us well rested and ready to greet the day, Dan offers to show us around Schenectady. Ian and Clarence stay back to try and catch some of the sleep they missed out on while driving up. After grabbing some grub at Denny’s, Dan takes us to an incredible cemetery. Vale Cemetery is one of the largest and most beautiful cemeteries I’ve ever been in – I guess it doesn’t hurt that it’s fall, and all the yellow leaves were breathtaking. After we cruise through the newer section there was a section in which we were not allowed to take a vehicle. Here the really gnarly graves sat – Some of these graves dated back to the late 1700’s. Unfortunately, little asshole kids will be little asshole kids and many of the graves were vandalized. As we walk through the area Dan tells us how the cemetery has a pretty dark history, as well. Apparently some years back some deranged individuals decided it would be a good idea to murder and decapitate some people in the deeper parts of the cemetery… Some sort of “Satanic” rituals [I use the term “Satanic” loosely], pssh. Cool to check out, regardless.

After killing about two hours in the cemetery, we were ready to check out the city of Albany. We headed back to the house to check on the sleepy heads that were passed out on the floor of a vacant room. I’m about 98% sure the sleep they managed to get was mediocre at best, but a nap is a nap, right? After wiping the sleep from their eyes, the crew piled into the van and headed in to the city.

As we pulled into Albany I got a strange, familiar feeling. This place reminds me of Richmond in so many ways. And while I’m not the biggest fan of Richmond, it was kind of neat to note the similarities. The first place we pulled up to was the Occupy Albany camp. I don’t care if you believe in that cause or not, I’m not here to judge your personal politics – I will say, however, that it was an impressive movement. There were tents set up everywhere, food readily available, as well as other random services, information tents, musical acts, and very little police presence. Dan informed us that the Albany cops had no intention of trying to dismiss these people, as they believed in the right to peaceful protest. That’s amazing to me. We hung out for a bit, Dan talked to some friends, we goofed off, and then headed to Bomber’s.

At this point, the day starts to get a little funky. Bomber’s is an awesome little burrito bar that was a “must visit” according to Ian, Clarence, and Dan. Apparently, their burritos are amazing… but I never did get to try them. Why? I’ll tell you why! Clarence, Ryan, Andrew and I were thirsty for a fine alcoholic beverage, so we thought we’d sit at the bar for a drink, then join the others for some fine deliciousness that we’d heard so much about. Beers were poured amongst the boys, and I got myself a margarita. They were only five dollars, and it sounded delicious. It was, and it came in a mason jar! I’m a fan of any beverage that comes in a mason jar. Unfortunately, what I didn’t know is that Bomber’s had a $10 minimum on credit cards… So… What could I get to spend another $5? Hmmmm… OH! How about another margarita?! Perfect! Oh… Perhaps that was a bad move. By the time we all finished our beverages, we went to the loft to sit with the others and perhaps grab some food. Right as we stroll up to the table, they’re all signing their checks, and are ready to go. Oh… Whoops! I guess we sat at the bar for a little longer than we all thought.

So, with what little food remained in my stomach from breakfast, and two strong margaritas on their way down, the day started getting a little brighter.

Straight edge photographers, here’s the perfect argument for you as to why one shouldn’t drink, on an assignment especially.

My energy surged, my goofiness and recklessness started growing, and I started drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. You’d think the straight edge influence in the group, or even the seasoned alcoholics, would maybe tell me that what I was doing probably wasn’t the best of ideas. Hell, maybe they did. If they did, I clearly ignored them.

We drove around Albany, saw an amazing mural of a dead squirrel that took up the entire back of a building. I tried to take some pictures here, but I was already too drunk to actually take my time… or care about anything, really. By the time we reached the venue, my whiskey was gone. In my defense, I did share some with others, but I drank a majority of it.

Somehow, I managed to help LoR load their equipment into the venue, walk around the area, introduce myself to a couple people, help set up the merch table, and get in a passionate argument about why I dislike a certain hardcore band. Alright, time to relax… I believe I’ll have another beer. The man behind the bar asked what I’d like, to which I replied “I’ll have a PBR, please.” No go. That tap was screwed. “Alright, how about a Budweiser?” Nope, that one wasn’t working that night either. Crap. “Well, I guess I’ll just have a whiskey-ginger.” The man then said “I don’t know how to make that.” Now wait a minute, you’re going to stand there, behind a bar, telling me you don’t know how to make a drink that has the ingredients in the name? “Fine, just give me your cheapest whiskey on the rocks.” That he knew how to do… Kind of. He threw a couple ice cubes in the glass, then proceeded to pour the whiskey. Now, ordinarily, one would only get about a shot, maybe two, in a glass… He filled the whole thing up! “How much do I owe you for this, man…?” “Ehhhhh… Don’t worry about it!” Pssh, I’m alright with that! As it would turn out, he was just the sound guy. Why he was standing behind the bar is beyond me, but, free whiskey is free whiskey. So, there I sat, already drunk, and sipping on my full glass of poor man’s whiskey.

The night goes from spotty to completely black out from here on out. I remember hating some bands, liking others, getting bored and antsy sitting at the merch table, and trying to pass my liquor off like it was beer to anyone that I could. Loss of Reason’s set ended, I’m wasted beyond reason, but still manage to help them load their gear out. How I did this is beyond me… At least I was still a decent roadie, right?! Past this, I have NO idea what happened. According to my pictures, I started taking the most random shots of the guys and then I woke up in New Jersey. What a trip!

No, they didn’t leave me, we just stopped at a rest stop. Overall, I’d say the trip was a complete success, and a complete failure all at the same time. I got to hang out with some great friends on the road, check out a city I’ve never been to, made a new friend, take some decent pictures… and take some really bad pictures, probably made an ass out of myself, and didn’t eat Bombers.

Throw Down North of Town!

*beep beep* *beep beep *beep beep* It was 5:30 AM on Saturday, October 8th. My overly tired body slowly wormed it’s way out of bed. “No man should have to deal with this little amount of sleep.” I thought to myself. I had gotten three hours of sleep on Thursday night, and Friday evening’s plans included an Admirals hockey game, and a little post-game raging which resulted in me getting two hours of sleep that night. I threw some clothes on, gathered my camera gear, and headed downstairs to wake up Twelvie Stout who was in, what looked like, a fantastic slumber. Wiping the sleep from his eyes we begin to pack up the wagon for our Outer Banks Venture.

What could we possibly be doing in the Outer Banks so early on a Saturday morning? The plan was to meet up with the likes of Ronnie Dodson, John Streit, Shaun Devine, and Jared Jennings. There was a surf competition in the Southern Shores known as the Throwdown North of Town. Guaranteed to be a good time, and since I hadn’t shot any surfing in a minute, I jumped at the opportunity.

After a two hour drive, we scoop up Ronnie, grab some coffee, and head to the shore. It’s stunning. Bright beautiful day, slightly chilly, a nice breeze, not a cloud in the sky… But something is wrong… The surf is less than stellar. It’s kind of choppy, inconsistent, small, but still some rideable waves. The general consensus is that no one would have paddled out in this if it weren’t for the competition. Oh well! It’s still a killer day to spend at the beach!

The next six or so hours were filled with frustration, surprise, beer, napping, and free food. John Streit, Shaun Devine, and Jared Jennings all made it to their respective final heats, unfortunately none of them placed. There really isn’t too much to say about the competition… As I stated, the waves sucked. The most people could do was just a strong cutback here and there. Maybe an attempted air. All of us kept hoping the conditions would improve over the course of the day, alas, that was simply not the case. I shot my ass off regardless, as well as drank some beer, took a twenty minute nap and indulged in the free food that was being given away.

I have to say, though, I love the surfer culture. There is a place for absolutely everyone, young and old, blue or white collars, whatever your background… It just doesn’t matter. Everyone comes together with a positive attitude to enjoy the wondrous gifts that Mother Nature has provided. Not saying that this is a utopian culture, and that there are no conflicts, but for the most part, I have to say it is a resounding positive environment.

After all the awards had been presented to the winners, we departed the sunny sands of the Southern Shores. We headed to John’s house in Kill Devil Hills to plan out our evening. The first order of business was to kill the beer we had left over from the competition. Well, that didn’t last long. Alright, let’s gather some fire wood for a bonfire! Hmmph… Not really that much wood around that would be good for a fire… Whelp! Now what?

Hunger took over – so where do we go? John suggests this restaurant named The Chili Pepper, and what a fantastic choice it was. Our seating is mafia-esque, that or reminiscent of the Last Supper. We hang out in a recessed part of the building, at an elongated table where no ones back was to the rest of the restaurant. The Virginia Tech game was on, and every once in a while the patrons would cheer in an exuberant manner. We drank some beers, ate some delightfully delectable appetizers and entrees until we could no longer force another morsel into our pie holes, and it was back to the house we go!

Alright, so we didn’t head right back to the house, we needed to make a couple stops first. Of course, we had to get some more beer. What? Did you think it would be a dry night? No, no, no. Twelvie had a hankering for some Fireball whiskey, so the ABC store was next on the list. But what do we do about the lack of firewood? Hmmm… Oh, look at that, some pallets just appeared in the back of my car! I don’t know who had a magic lamp and used one of their wishes, but thank you! Now we can head back.

Once we get back to the house, it was time to get this fire underway. Most of us were still sluggish from dinner, but Twelvie and Ronnie hopped right on breaking up some wood. The rest of us kind of just sat around, drank some beer, and I walked around snapping some photos. Ronnie ended up getting a pretty gnarly splinter… If you could even call it that. It was more like Ronnie was straight impaled through his hand. Twelvie tried to yank it out by his own hands, but that only caused more pain. Ronnie decided it was time to just snag it with his teeth, and yank as hard as he possibly could. This ended up working out really well. Ronnie is a monster, and we’ll keep it at that.

The night dragged on, as the itis and over all exhaustion from the day started to settle in. We kicked back a couple more beers before deciding to call it an early night around 10PM. Man, we sure are party animals. Screw that, I was tired, and sleep was a more than welcomed change. Overall, the trip was great. I was able to hang out with gnarly dudes, hang out on the beach all day, then spend the night around a bonfire. What more could one really ask for?

So, I’d like to, once again, give a big “thank you!” to John Streit for your hospitality.

Seahawk at the Boxx… And wait, who’s that? Dragonsaur!?

First and foremost, let me first say that Seahawk is one of my favorite local bands. Positive energy and good times just emanate through out the crowd as everyone comes together in unison to sing along to some extremely catchy, raw, and amazingly well written songs. With members of now long since defunct VB bands like Dragonsaur, Next Best Thing, and Cutback, how could you possibly expect anything less than stellar music? The only thing better than listening to their demo is seeing them live.

The Boxx was the gracious host of this spectacular event on Tuesday, July 12th, and not a better venue could have been provided. The line-up was Stonewall, Kingshead, with Seahawk headlining. I decided to sit out on shooting Stonewall and Kingshead, so I could properly take in their sets, and what a set they both gave. Stonewall opened up with an American Nightmare cover, which, even with mic problems, was freakin’ awesome! Kingshead had the crowds undivided attention (as if you could ever ignore them with how loud they play!) as they ripped through their set. Then came the highly anticipated Seahawk.

Now, this was a very special show for Seahawk for a couple reasons. One, if I’m correct, this was the first show that the entire band was together again since Josh returned from Australia. Secondly, it would be the last show with Kevin before he moves to California. And let me tell you, the show was pure chaos, in the best way it could have been.

Remember when I said the Boxx was the perfect venue? Well yeah, it was. It’s small, the place was crowded with both fans of the bands, and the regular drunks cruising the strip, and it’s loud. Easily the hardest live show I’ve shot. Almost the entire set was one big sing-a-long, with very, VERY little area for me to move around in. I didn’t mind, though, because I was part of those sing-a-longs a lot of the time. Otherwise, I managed to manipulate myself through the horde in between songs.

Once the Seahawk set ended, there was some chatter amongst some individuals about “playing just a few songs”. Who could it be? None other than Dragonsaur, local mythology from a couple years back. They tried to play a reunion show a couple months ago, but it ended up being shut down only a couple songs into their set. Well, they decided to finish that set on this night. The energy from this matched, if not topped, that of Seahawk, and with a big emotional attachment for many.

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Sunset Surf Session

Ahhh, it’s a wonderful thing to once again be able to watch my friends surf. My life has been a hectic world as of late, packed with long work days leading to rather boring nights. Even while living near the ocean front, my friends’ and my own schedule rarely coincide, but they couldn’t have meshed as well as they did on Wednesday evening.

After a laborious day of tedious tasks and praying for rain from the looming clouds that encroached on the job site, I returned to my small apartment, itching, immediately, to get out. I cleanse the daily filth and sweat off of my skin, prepare a fine dinner, and text a few friends. With in a couple minutes I receive a call from one Tony Riccio III! He informs me of “Billy Jaquis’s and his plans for the evening. What were those plans, you ask? Hit the 15th Street Pier at the ocean front for a good ole surf session, then cap the night with Transformers 3. At this point I could really care less about Transformers 3, but was very interested in the surf, but agreed all the same.

Now, you remember those looming clouds I mentioned earlier? Yeah, well they decided to reign down a cacophonous symphony of thunder and rain. Man… I’ve had a rough time lately, and now, when I finally get the opportunity to shoot some surfing, it storms like this? I call Tony back to let him know the disappointing news, but neither him nor Billy’s mentality had faltered. “We’re going to see if it’ll blow over.” They said, “Come on over!”. Hey, who am I to complain? If anything, I get to hang out with my friends. I dawdle around my pad for a little while while gathering my camera gear, hoping to hear the the downpour outside subside.

As the minutes pass, so does the storm. I head to Tony’s to find them laying on a futon chatting the day away, so I crawl on and join in for the short time we were there. The rain had come to an almost complete stop by this point, and it was time we checked out the beach.

But, we were missing someone… Vinny! One problem – how do we fit him in the Element? Tony’s car is full, and Billy’s is the same, with him driving, me riding in the backseat, and a surfboard beside us. Time for some uncomfortable problem solving. Lie below the boards in the front seat! Of course!

Now with that little issue out of the way… To the pier we go! During the short drive from Vinny’s to the Pier, I’m going absolutely insane looking out the windows and catching glimpses of the miraculous clouds through the abundance of obnoxious hotels. From what I had been seeing, I didn’t care if the surf was going to be good or not, I was going to get some cool shots regardless.

When we arrive, it’s a scramble to get out – Our time may be limited! Vinny is the first out, board in hand, and damn near running to the ocean. I follow close behind, camera in hand, snapping pictures all the while. I run down the pier, pay my $2 entry fee, and grab my spot.

God, look at that view! This was actually my first time ever going onto the pier, and what a first time it was! The sun had just begun to set, the sky appeared as if it was on fire! Clouds met the horizon, colliding with the hotels on the board walk, and almost taking the shapes of buildings themselves. No time to sit and take that in, though, here come the waves.

The light began to escape us all, and slowly Tony, Vinny, Billy, and Johnny began to paddle in. Everyone had had a phenomenal session. Billy surfed better than I had ever seen him before, Tony managed to hang ten, and Vinny and Johnny’s wave counts were just obscene. The weather was perfect, the waves were breaking nicely, the landscape was one to be remembered, and we didn’t get rained out! I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect evening.

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… and Heaven’s as close as taking a ride.

What can I say about the month of June in two words? It sucked. Alright, alright, the beginning of the month was cool. I went to Hatteras for my first time, one of my entries was chosen as a “Fresh Press”, and the Bruins won the Stanley Cup (Whoops! There goes more fans!). But, shortly after that emotional high, the harsher side of reality came crashing down. Work hours shot up leaving me with very little free time, and an exhausted shell that was once my body. Personal drama that shouldn’t have even been an issue turned into a huge ordeal. Lack of sleep because of both of these things, amongst other minor issues, drove me into a dark mental state where I hated everyone and everything around me – I needed to get out, I needed to get away.

Prior to this downward spiral, I had discussed taking a trip with some friends to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and cruising “America’s Favorite Drive”, the Blue Ridge Parkway. Well, the chain of negative events led me to decide that it would just be better to head out on this venture alone. I would depart from Virginia Beach Saturday night, sleep in my car, and spend all Sunday driving. It would provide me with ample opportunity to clear my head, all while taking in the beautiful sights that Mother Nature provides.

I packed my bags, fueled up, grabbed some snacks, and started my trip with the most positive attitude I could muster. I threw Fugazi on my iPod, and anxiously awaited reaching that crest near Charlottesville where I can catch my first glimpse of that awe-inspiring mountainous landscape. There was little traffic, no hold ups, and The Argument album was providing the perfect soundtrack to start my personal odyssey.

(Adios, Eastern Virginia!)

(Never mind the “check engine” light in a Volvo… They never seem to mean anything)

(The apple wasn’t enough to tide me over for the ride, might as well clog my arteries with a sub-par McDonald’s angus burger)

Just as I reach the outskirts of Richmond, disaster strikes! Of course, Murphy’s Law had plagued me in Hampton Roads, why would I think it wouldn’t catch up to me when I left? A flat tire? Really? Now, to most people this isn’t an issue. But, I had forgotten that last time I caught a flat (coincidentally, also just outside the Richmond area), I had bent my tire iron straight due to the lugs being overtightened by morons at Firestone. It’s okay, though! My moral would not be shattered by this minor inconvenience. I would walk to the nearest gas station, or whatever was available, so I could purchase a new tire iron.

It was at this time that I encountered my first unsolicited act of human kindness. As I walked down the interstate off ramp, many cars flew by me, just as I expected them to, until I see a pick up truck hit the brakes and pull to the side of the road.

“Hey, man!” a man said with a strong southern drawl.

“Hey, dude”, I replied in my own slight southern style.

“Is that your Volvo there on the side of the road?”

“Why yes, sir, it is.”

“You need a ride?”

“I’d sure appreciate it!”

So, I crammed myself into the front of his pick up truck. When I say “crammed”, I mean “crammed.” I could barely close the passenger side door. The truck was harboring another man who was certainly less than enthused, and almost scared, that he had to sit so close to another human being. Luckily for him, there was a K-Mart right down the street. He dropped me off, I thanked them, probably way more times than was necessary, and I went on my merry way.

I soon returned to my car with my recently purchased tire iron, and tried loosening the lugs. Nothing. I literally jumped up and down on the them, and my 205lb body only managed to break one loose. How disheartening. It was at this time I began looking up towing companies in the area. When I was on the phone with AAA, a guy in a Jeep pulled up to try and assist me. I explained to him my problem, but he insisted he tried anyway. He broke out his tire iron, and ended up twisting it a bit, just as mine had done. Shocked by this, he goes back to his Jeep and grabs some WD-40. Neither one of us have much faith in it, but what the hell, right? Well, I’ll be damned if it didn’t work! I thanked the Jeep owner, and he went on his way. I thought all was well and good by this point. I broke out the jack, and went to work. *CLANK!* “Oh crap…” The jack had slipped! I quickly lowered the car back down and found that my jack had bent. Great. Problem upon problem, upon problem. But, it’s okay, Triple A is still on their way, right?

I waited on the side of interstate 64 for roughly another hour, still no sign of a tow truck, or anyone. I had been keeping my mother updated with the situation, and she, in proper motherly fashion, sent my father out with a decent jack, and a ride home, since there was no way I was getting my tire replaced that night. I call AAA to check on the status only to find that they had cleared my ticket! As far as anyone at AAA knew, I was back on the road safe and sound! That was quickly remedied, and a tow truck was going to be out within the hour.

True to their word this time, the tow truck showed up about 45 minutes later. The driver was easily one of the most entertaining people I have ever dealt with. Every thing that came out of his mouth was thickly coated in satirical sarcasm that had me rolling in the cab as I would strike back with quips of my own. Unfortunately, it was a short ride to a WaWa, as I would have loved to keep talking to the guy. There he was able to then jack my car up, and threw on my spare. I thanked him for both the service and the entertainment, bought him a soda, and he shortly departed.

I patiently waited at the WaWa for another 30 minutes for my father to arrive, and he came bearing gifts! A tire patch kit, the decent jack, and a mini air compressor of his own. What a guy! I didn’t get him tattooed on my arm for nothing, dammit. But I digress… We patch the tire up, fill it with air, and we’re feeling at least confident enough to get the car home.

(That’s the man, right there. My pops!)

On the way home I felt cheated. “I need this trip” I kept telling myself, “I NEED this.” I called my father and asked about it, to which he highly advised that we head home tonight, and replace that tire in the morning. This did sound like a better plan… There really was no trusting the sidewall on that patched tire. So, I drove, fatigued and frustrated all the way back to Virginia Beach.

Sunday morning came too quickly, and I was anxious to get back on the road. It took a while to get everything organized, but I was back behind the wheel and more driven than ever to get out to Blue Ridge. Nothing was going to hold me back. Not the traffic jams at the HRBT and Williamsburg, not the fact that I had to get yet another tank of gas, not the fact that I had only a couple hours of sleep. Nothing. If I didn’t take this trip, I would have lost my mind.

(Damn the world)

(5 mile back up at the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel)

(Healthy treats fueled me, and the name was appropriate)

When I got past Williamsburg the roads opened up completely, and I was able to comfortably cruise the interstate. Fugazi, once again, provided me with the perfect auditory distraction, while MoJo snack bars filled my stomach. I cursed and spit at the off ramp that had held me for hours only yesterday. Before I knew it I had reached the crest I was waiting for – That mountain view appeared in the distance. Immediately, a feeling of joy overwhelmed me. This is what I came for. Now what also came along with this view was the pitter-patter of raindrops on my windshield, and the soon to be setting sun on the horizon. I guess my idea of sleeping in my car is shot. I was going to crack my windows, no sir, not while it’s raining!

(Nope, the rain’s not going to spoil my trip, either)

I drove until I couldn’t see the road clearly, and ended up in Waynesboro, VA at a Quality Inn to spend the night. Surprisingly, even though I had driven for a couple hours on little sleep I wasn’t in the least bit tired. What to do, what to do? Oh, I have a camera, let’s take some pictures! What could possibly be the subject… Hmmm… The room is kind of boring by itself… Oh, me! Why not just take more pictures of me?

(Gotta catch up on the world’s favorite fiction!)

(Had a little fun with “free lensing”, a technique I may institute again at a later time)

(11:11… What was my wish? That the next day would rule)

(Alright, enough of all this. Time for bed)

After a nice and deep eight hour sleep I was recharged and ready to go! I partook in the nothing more than mediocre “continental breakfast”, which is all one should have expected at a Quality Inn, then proceeded to check out. Now, when I had pulled into town, it was very dark, and very rainy. I had no idea what it looked like, but the morning had revealed its wonderful quaintness. Now, while writing this, I really wish I would have spent at least a little time in the area to really explore it. Oh well, the Parkway was calling my name.

Just a couple miles outside of town I saw the signs I had been longing for: “Blue Ridge Parkway <-". Finally, I was here! My Mecca! But I cannot stop here. This is just the beginning, and the real journey had just begun.

(All geared up, and ready to go!)

Beyond the welcoming sign, the morning haze covered the roads in an almost eerie, and threatening fashion, but at the same time, it was ravishing. I snapped a picture with my cell phone of the road ahead, but didn’t feel comfortable doing it with my actual camera. I soon found an area that I was able to pull over safely. The clouds were traveling up the mountain from the updrafts, and nothing beyond maybe forty feet was visible. My attempts at catching these updrafts were a failure, however. But, I hope this gives a sense of just how low visibility actually was in the early morning hours.

(A cell phone picture is better than nothing!)

(Very little PhotoShop work, and the sky is only so blown out… Those are actually clouds. Wild)

For a minute I feared that this was going to be the view for most of the day! As exciting as it was to drive through initially, the low clouds blocked the view I had been wanting to see. But not too worry, the skies quickly cleared, and my eyes were opened to views well beyond what I had imagined. Signs indicated upcoming points of interest, and towards the beginning I stopped at damn near every one of them.

My first stop was a location called “20-Minute Cliff”. After reading the description I could only wish I was able to fast forward later in the day to catch the sights. Then I did something my mother would have killed me herself for doing. I hopped the railing, and stood on the cliff’s edge, and looked down. The next rock protrusion was at least twenty feet below, and below that… Well, if I would have fallen, let’s just say you wouldn’t be viewing these pictures, or reading this gibberish.

(This is freedom)

I drive for a couple more hours, enjoying the smooth curves, attacking the sharper ones, and stopping way too often. Way too often? Definitely not. This is my trip, and I’m doing as I please. Soon I see a sign that says “Natural Bridge <-". Oh, now I've got to check this out! So, I divert from the Parkway, and drive roughly fifteen miles out of the way. A marvelous river flows beside me as I cruise along this new road, spotting signs leading me to this attraction.

I don’t know why, but for some reason I actually believed I would be stumbling across a relatively unadvertised natural treasure. Silly me. This place was the biggest building in the entire town, and was teamed up with a wax museum, caverns, huge gift shops, etc. A little perturbed by all of this, I quickly make my way through the gift shop to the desk where I could then purchase tickets to see the natural bridge. The price was a little steep at $18 – Something like $25 if you wanted to see some caverns too – I was feeling a little cheap at this point, so I just went with the bridge.

After about a half-mile downhill and stair walk I caught my first glimpse of the bridge. “Wow”. This thing is nothing short of astonishing. The pictures for the ads didn’t come close to capturing the scale of this place! Some two hundred feet tall! Nature is truly an amazing, savagely magnificent thing. If you have the opportunity, I highly suggest you check it out.

(love immortalized in the patched concrete floor below the bridge. I’m a sucker for these kinds of things)

After being awed by the bridge, little else was able to compare to it. I headed back to the Parkway, and ended my trip at Roanoke, VA. I traveled roughly 100 miles down the Blue Ridge Parkway, saw some absolutely amazing sights, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. It was truly the best birthday gift I could have given myself. I didn’t need to live up to anyone’s standards. I ate where I wanted, I stopped where I wanted, I listened to what I wanted… I did exactly what I wanted to do. It was the truest definition of freedom I could grasp, and exactly what I needed.

Thank you for reading, I know it was a lot… or at simply looking at the pictures. As always: Leave Love/Leave Hate!

Anthems of the Undesirable – A breath of fresh air, but a new ache in your neighbors’ ears

[Pictured: Ryan Stoner (A.K.A. Ryan Aircraft), proprietor of Anthems of the Undesirable]

“Pay attention to the cracked streets & the broken homes – Some call it slums; some call it nice…”

Alright, so right there I either just gained, or lost, some fans for quoting Green Day. Either way, those lyrics fit perfectly when trying to find the Anthems of the Undesirable – A new record store located at 617 W. 35th Street in Norfolk, Virginia.

Amongst the vacant lots and closed down stores you will find the Kerouac Cafe. When entering the cafe, look up to the second floor to catch your first glimpse of the Anthems store. Walk to the back, head up the stairs, through a lounge area, and find yourself amongst a knowledgeable staff (more than likely the owner, Ryan Aircraft, or long-time friend, Andrew Aircraft), and a mass of pure heaviness manifested in vinyl.

If you’re a record collector living in the Hampton Roads area, then you know your options are limited. By limited, I mean practically non-existent, and your best bet is probably searching around Richmond, or eBay. This may no longer be the case for those who’s musical tastes cater towards a less-than-mainstream vibe.

I’m not going to lie to you here, the place is a little barren right now, but it definitely serves its purpose. It’s a humble little shop, that will only develop over time. (Cut the guys some slack! They busted their humps trying to pull the place together from scratch for their grand opening! Jeez, you’re harsh. Let’s see you start your own record store! Jerks!) A couple posters breathe a little life into the place as they line the walls and ceilings, meanwhile, a customer gives an band a trial run over the sound system, and others flip through the 12″ and 7″ records.

A shelf of “Staff picks” hangs above the 7″ racks, with short descriptions of what genre they may fall under, similar bands, or simply that you’re a fool for not owning it. It’s this sort of personal connection that most music stores lack. They’re not afraid to use, let’s just say, “colorful” language… Nor are they all that worried about offending you for your obvious lack of decent musical tastes. I really love this, though. I feel as if this can be a place where one can get into intense musical debates of why a band rules, or why it sucks. You might leave mad (If this is the case, you need to toughen that skin up, sir or ma’am), or you might find a couple new artists that you really enjoy.

Overall, the experience was a pleasant one. Ryan Aircraft is taking quite the risk in this investment, and I really hope it works out for the best, for a multitude of reasons: For one, it’s just nice to have an alternative place to look for records in the area. Two, both Ryan and Andrew have always been awesome people to me, so I’d like to see their hard work pay off. Annnnddd, [my selfish reason] three, I’m really hoping he can find me some Sheer Terror albums. So, all you kids around the area who are into collecting vinyl: be sure to support this place. I know you might be able to score a cheap find on eBay, but the people at Anthems of the Undesirable have put a lot of money, time and effort into trying give you something good. Don’t take it for granted. We’ve seen the demise of some killer record stores in the past, I’d hate to see another one go under.

Thanks for reading, or at the very least, looking at the pictures! As always: Leave love/leave hate.

“I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.” – William Shakespeare.

I cannot adequately express my gratitude for the past couple days. It was a delightful surprise, and a huge honor to find one of my entries selected to be a “fresh press”. I would like to thank everyone who came and visited my blog, “liked” my entries, and commented on my posts. I would also like to welcome and thank my new followers. I hope to keep you interested with future posts, of which there are sure to be many.

Now, let me not delay, and bore you with more and more variations of me saying “thank you”… and let me provide you with some more pictures. These photos were all taken on various days – Some I really like, and I’m honestly not sure why they weren’t posted on my blog earlier. Oh well! Here they are for all to enjoy now!

Beach Life: Welcome to Hatteras.

Now this may come as a bit of a surprise to many of you, but I have never been to Hatteras OBX before. Now that I’ve been, I want to slap myself for not visiting sooner.

It started out on a Sunday morning, roughly 7AM. I was awoken from a drunken stupor by a phone call from Mr. Billy Jaquis. “Tom, wake up, get to Tony’s. We have rasta pancakes…” Now, this normally wouldn’t be a huge incentive for me to rise from my bed, but I knew there was more to this morning than some food coloring drenched pancakes… I was going to attempt to surf for my first time, and it was Billy’s birthday surf session. I quickly hopped out of bed, threw on my trunks, and bolted out the door.

(photo courtesy of Billy Jaquis)

I made it to Tony’s in pretty remarkable time, given the circumstances. Upon entering I was greeted by Billy, Tony, and Princess, as well as the smell of fresh pancakes and some delicious thick cut bacon. While we ate, Vinny LeFante joined us which meant we were soon ready to depart. The boards were loaded shortly after the grub was devoured, and off to Croatan we went.

(photo courtesy of Billy Jaquis)

Tony Riccio lent me his longboard, and told me to follow Billy as he paddled out. He first provided me with a simple rule as we looked out onto the crowded beach: Stay out of everyone’s way. Alright, thanks for the help, Tony! But, what the hell… I began to paddle out. As soon as I hit the water I realized that I must have eaten just a tad bit too much food… and, the water was just cold enough to not let my lungs fully expand at first. This induced a little panic in me, and I contemplated heading back into shore. There was no way I was doing that! I sat on the board for a minute, waited for my body to adjust to the water, and continued to paddle out through the break to meet up with Billy and Princess.

At this point I’m not too worried about catching a wave, just becoming comfortable on the board, and learning how to move around effectively. Billy gives me a couple choice pointers, and I gladly accepted by his advice, and managed to stay out of most people’s way. The time for sitting was over, and it was time to try to catch some waves. I paddled as fast and hard as my short, bulky, out of shape body could… Occasionally I would catch one, but was never able to stand up and stay up. After about an hour or so of it, my body had had it, so I paddled in and watched everyone else enjoy the waves.

“Hey Tom, you haven’t said anything about Hatteras yet, or even shown me any pictures! What’s the deal?”

I’m giving you a back story, and it’s my blog, I’ll write what I please. So, I don’t want to hear any lip, alright!? Alright. Now, if I can continue without being rudely interrupted…

After everyone else had had their fill, we rinsed ourselves and the boards off and packed up. On the way to drop Vinny off he receives a phone call from our good buddy Travis Kesler. He had been spending his weekend with his family at their beach house in Hatteras, and asked if a couple of us would like to head down to enjoy the beautiful weather and choice surf.

The decision was up in the air until around 7PM, and the call was made to meet up at Tony’s around 9PM. That’s already a little late for a 3 hour drive, but hey, whatever, we had all Monday off, right? As it would turn out, due to silly delays, and a missed turn we didn’t pull into Hatteras until roughly 2:30am, greeted by Travis and some PBRs. We were escorted to the deck on the second (well, technically third?) floor to take in the amazing plethora of stars in the crystal clear skies, and chit chat before heading off to our respective sleeping areas. Let me say, though, if you plan on driving a lot, and are looking for a comfortable car to do it in, the Honda Element is choice! If you have the means, I highly suggest picking one up.

The morning came quickly, and we were all ready for it… Well, all except for Vinny, who continued to sleep until probably 9:30 or so – Conveniently, just in time for breakfast. We hopped in the Element and headed to the shore to check out the surf. My god, what a stunning sight it was! Beautiful blue water,clear blue skies, and, best of all, practically no one in sight… It was hard to believe that something so beautiful could be just a matter of hours away from my hometown beach.

Upon our return to the SeaQuest house (The Kesler manor), we were greeted by Travis’s father cooking up some biscuits and gravy. Now, Travis’s dad… That guy is a trip! Great sense of humor, insane hospitality, and apparently used to rip it up on a surfboard quite a bit. Vinny decided to climb out of bed and join the rest of us at the table to enjoy this fantastic dish that was prepared for us.

(photo courtesy of Tony Riccio)

Now that our tanks had been filled it was time to prepare for our morning session. We all covered ourselves in sunscreen, and Tony made fun of me for my “finger tip applying” method. After we made the necessary bodily preparations, and loaded up the boards in Travis’s truck we departed once more to the ocean front for what would surely be a morning of too much sun, and an abundance of fun.

Much like the day before, everyone was in the water before me, and paddled out waaaayyy faster than I could possibly do. Unlike yesterday, however, the water temperature was much more pleasant, and my belly wasn’t hindering me. I start out strong, nice long strides through the water until I reach the break area… God, this was a real struggle for me to get through. The waves were larger and much faster than what I had just experienced in Croatan… so I struggled onward, only to be pushed right on back to where I was until I finally made it out – already exhausted. I try paddling for a couple waves, but either I was just too tired, they were just moving way faster than I could swim, or I just wasn’t starting early enough. I would kind of catch some of the curl occasionally, but nothing note worthy. Travis caught a couple fantastic barrels, Vinny caught almost every wave that came his way, Tony was getting quite a few himself, 12e stayed on the shore taking in the sights, and doing his fair share of people watching, I’m sure.

After a the constant mental and physical abuse I was taking, I decided to call it a day. 12e snapped a couple pictures of me coming in (which I’m pretty anxious to see, because I’m sure there is the ultimate look of defeat on my face), and I joined him on the shoreline. Travis’s parents even came down to watch, video tape, and converse. Seriously, two of the most pleasant people I’ve ever met. This didn’t surprise me, and shouldn’t surprise anyone else who knows Travis. But man, do I love it when I can have a good conversations with one of my good friend’s parents.

The sun was high, and relentlessly beat down on us to the point where 12e couldn’t take it anymore. Off to the water he ran, diving in and one could easily see the look of absolute refreshment come across his face. He frolicked around in the water, caught some waves while body surfing, and simply swam around for a bit. Soon, Travis brought his board to the shore and joined 12e in his playful antics. After all, who said you needed a surfboard to have fun at the beach?

The heat quickly overwhelmed me, and I longed to be back in the water. But, with no one else on shore, I was reluctant to just leave my camera behind. So what do I do? The best thing I could do at that time – Move closer to the water, and sit my quickly sunburning self on the wet sand, and let the tide rush up over my feet and around my waist. The water felt amazing, but my legs were not in dire need of a cool down… My core and head on the other hand were baking under the power of the fierce sun’s rays. Luckily, Vinny came in shortly after and relieved me from my paranoid guard.

I swam out to a point where I swear I saw 12e and Travis easily standing before, but the water was still deeper than I could stand. I became a little confused, and thought maybe I had been in the heat too long and was hallucinating. Then Tony called out to me, “Tom! Why are you over there swimming in the deep water??” He informed me that further out was a huge sandbar where you could stand literally knee deep. Ahh, silly me. I missed this while I was attempting to surf because I just sat on the board the entire time. Tony, Vinny and I body surfed for a couple more minutes before heading back to the shore, rejoining 12e and Travis, and it was time to head out.

Before we could get back to the car, something wild happened. Tony notices a woman with a young boy on a body board, swimming and swimming and swimming, but not going anywhere. We sit and watch for a minute or two because neither one seem to look too worried about their situation. It quickly became evident that they were stuck in a riptide, the woman was showing signs of fatigue, and soon they would be in some real trouble. Vinny was the first to take action. He ran to the water with his board, dove in and reached the woman and child quickly. He only had his short board, though, so it was obvious he wasn’t going to be able to bring both of them in. Tony tells me to set his long board down, and he was next to fly out there. He grabs the young boy and tosses him on the front of his board as Vinny assists the lady towards the shore. It was pretty awesome to watch, so awesome that my dumb ass didn’t get my camera back out to take pictures of the whole thing. Sorry guys, you’ll just have to take my word for it. Vinny and Tony essentially saved these two individuals. This wasn’t the only almost tragedy to occur at this time. Just 50 yards down the beach a woman had just been dragged from the water, unconscious, and had to be resuscitated. So remember, if you’re not the strongest swimmer, be aware of your surroundings. Those riptides can be deadly.

Soon enough the excitement died down, and we wanted to get out of there before the ambulances showed up to trap us in there. In my mind, they, the ambulances, might as well just be called “meat wagons” down there. There aren’t many units available, and there’s a lot of beach to cover, so you can’t really blame them for being slow. We managed to pull out just as they were pulling in, and off we went.

Tired and famished from the eventful morning, we were more than happy to see an assortment of meats, breads, chips, toppings and condiments scattered across the kitchen counters. Without hesitation, we began to dig in. Stories were swapped, pictures and videos were looked at and watched as the food dwindled down to mere crumbs.

Shortly after all the food disappeared into our bellies, the itis kicked in. A lethargic haze infiltrated the SeaQuest house, and one by one we all began to drop into a state of slumber while, sadly, watching Star Wars episode 2.

Travis snapped a picture of me, right after I woke up from the nap. Thanks, Travis!

I don’t know what time we fell asleep, but when I woke up it was roughly 5PM, which meant it was almost time to hit the road. Once again, we loaded up our surfboards and other belongings, said our goodbyes to our gracious hosts many times, and ventured away from the home that had treated us so well for the short time we stayed. I can’t express my gratitude enough for allowing this trip to happen, especially on such short notice.

Before we left, however, we decided we needed some grub for the long trip home. Tony demanded we eat at a restaurant called Food Dudes. I couldn’t tell you exactly where this is located, except its somewhere near “mile marker 9″. Let me tell you that this place was absolutely delicious. I ordered myself a blackened salmon wrap, which came with a healthy salmon steak in the middle, which was tastefully seasoned, and filled with other goodies. I don’t really know what everyone else got, and quite frankly I didn’t care. I was focused on my meal, and my meal alone. God damn, was it good! We finished promptly, and back on the road we went to finally arrive back in Virginia Beach, VA. “You know you’re home when you know where the cops are.”

Overall, this was one hell of a trip. Spontaneous. Fun. And hopefully something I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

As always, thanks for reading. Leave love/leave hate!

Post-Rapture Surfboard Swap at Austin’s Custom Surfboards

Ahhh, another beautiful day in Virginia Beach, VA. What better way to spend the day than to hang out with rad dudes, with good food, at a sweet shop? Welcome to Austins Custom Surfboards, an awesome little surf shop off of 19th street near the ocean front, with boards shaped by the man the shop’s named after, Austin. If you remember, I was recently introduced to Austin during my most recent surf shoot. He’s a great guy who is dedicated to his craft, and surf culture as a whole. In a display of his passion Austins Custom Surfboards hosts a surf club once every couple weekends (which I plan on attending – both to shoot, and finally learn how to surf!), and surfboard swap meets, like I went to today.

I rolled up to the event around 10:30 or so with my buddy Billy Jaquis. Soon we meet up with some friends including Tony Riccio, Travis Kesler, and a couple others and begin to enjoy the festivities. Travis rips apart the asphalt with Billy’s home made skateboard made out of vintage skis, I chow down on hot dogs, and fresh cherries, Billy sells his long board and picks up a new one (no pictures of this, though… I’m dumb).

This was my first time at Austin’s shop and I have to say, it’s pretty awesome. Beautiful boards of all shapes, sizes and colors line the walls, surf videos play on the TVs and kids walk with their parents pointing out their dream boards. If you’re into surfing, and live in or around the Hampton Roads area, do me a favor and check out Austin’s shop. If you don’t live here, then do yourself a favor and support your local surf shops, and not just the corporate lines.

I hope you enjoyed the pictures, and as always: Leave love/leave hate.

“Tom, we’re going surfing, come on!”

Perfect timing, considering I had just picked up a 2x extender from a buddy that weekend! One thing I didn’t realize about the 2x is that I now had to manually focus the lens – Something I hadn’t done in quite a while, so that was fun to reconnect with.

It was a pleasant, but overcast Sunday afternoon. As clouds brewed ominously in the distance, I hopped into my ’98 Volvo wagon, hoping to capture some nice action shots. I made my way up to the north beach, parked, and began to walk along the wooden plank path towards the water. As I reached the crest, I looked out on the water only to find a sea full of disappointment and frustration. “Are these guys really surfing this today? Alright… Whatever”, and I proceeded. I see three of my friends, and one man who was unfamiliar (who I was later introduced to – Austin, of the Austin Surf Company based right out of VB) out on the choppy, and inconsistent tide, trying here and there to catch something decent. One by one, they all trickled onto the shore reflecting on the seemingly disappointing surf session. The morale is never all that low, however, and entertaining conversations were soon to follow. Overall, I’m not too upset with the time I spent out there, but hopefully I can catch some good, clean surf in the near future. Until then – Leave love/leave hate.

Now this next one, I’m not sure which edit I like more. The blue skies are the natural picture, but with some fun little editing I faked a sunset… So, how about you decide for me which one you like more! Let me know!