Encounters

I helped again with yet another TC Microbrew fest. The first one I helped with was the winter one, in February. It was such a blast I wanted to help shoot the summer one. This year it was two days instead of one, packed with several great musicians and micro brews. I especially enjoy the hard ciders!

Saturday's headliner was Ozomatli. If any of you have seen "Never Been kissed," they are the band that plays in the club where Josie gets accidently "high" off of those special brownies. Anyway, I really wanted to meet the guys, maybe hang out with them before the show, get some pics. I had two different people say they could get me back there but in the end, it never happened. However, I was getting some chow and asked a few guys if I could sit in the empty chair near them. They were cool with it. I started talking to them. I asked "What are you guys doing here?" "We're playing a show." "What time?" "Nine." "What's your band's name?" "Ozomatli." "Of course it is." haha...

I have done this with Angel Dust, a guy that sings with Baby Bash. I talked to him about allergies haha...

Sympathetic journalism

I haven't blogged in quite a bit, so here I am, yet again. Whats new? Well, I graduated from Central Michigan University in December. I started back at Bay Bread, Co. this summer and I am registered to take Visual Comm classes at Northwestern Michigan College, starting in the fall. I have also been helping a good friend shoot weddings, as her assistant. It has been a great experience and I am very thankful for this opportunity.

Yesterday, I few of Traverse City's "bums" were hanging around the bakery, as usual. I don't like using that word, bum, but I don't know what else to call them. Every time I see them they are drunk and walking around in a haze. Any who, one of them was really intoxiated and ended up passing out and crashing on some of the plastic chairs and table outside the bakery. Literally crashed. He scattered the table and chairs and was passed out on the sidewalk. What do you do? His friends eventually picked him up and he was having a heck of a time walking. The journalist in me wanted to go out to my car and snap some photos. The other side of me was maybe a little scared that his drunk posse would beat me up? After work, I was driving by the bay and what did appear before my wandering eyes? The bunch of them, fast asleep underneath the trees by the bay. What a photo. But I was scared. When do we as journalist tear down that barrier of sympathy?