You Get Worked

My name is Rob, and I'm surprised. People say you'll be surprised what you can get if you just ask for it. As it would turn out, they're right.

Today is 311 Day, and sadly, I'm not in New Orleans at the show. I'm sitting here pushing buttons on my laptop.

But, I do have reason to celebrate.

For one, 311's new album dropped today, and it's awesome!

Second, something happened last week in the form of a series of emails between me and a gentlemen named Peter Raspler.

I pre-ordered the new album a few weeks ago. That's something I almost never do, but I had reason for it this time. They were holding a contest to win all sorts of stuff: an autographed guitar, hand written lyrics to a song, VIP passes, etc.

I don't really care about most of that stuff, and statistically I wouldn't have a real chance at winning any of it anyhow. But, there was one thing that swayed my opinion: a photo pass.

I was gonna buy the album anyway, so I figured I may as well do it now with a chance to win something of real, substantial value to me.

When I placed my order, there was a little box to send a message to the band. I didn't think anything of it at the time, as most of the messages probably wouldn't make it to the band to begin with. So, I left it blank.

A few days later, it started eating at me. I should have said I'm a photographer by trade. It didn't make any sense. It was a random draw. It's not like they would choose a name out of a hat, then decide which prize to dole out based on the message they left.

Still, it stayed in the back of my mind, creeping forward periodically.

I finally loosened my grip on logic and rationality.

What if...? It couldn't hurt to ask, right? No, it's dumb. These guys are bombarded with this shit all the time. But..? No way, everyone's a professional photographer these days. They don't need another person harassing them.

Then I let my grip go completely.

Screw it! What've I got to lose?

I spent the next several hours asking Google questions it didn't know the answers to, in an effort to try and find an email address for the appropriate person to talk to about my situation.

Needless to say, I finally found it. I spent the next several hours composing an email trying not to sound desperate, or like I was looking for some hand-out.

The gist of my email was that I was a photographer, a big fan of 311, that I'd like to photograph a concert, and if he even read the whole email I'd be a happy camper.

I received a reply the next day saying he'd be more than happy to get me into the photo pit for whatever show I'm attending.

Holy shit! Was this just that easy?

It was.

So, I'm shooting a 311 show in May. I still can't quite believe it. It's surreal.

It reminds of a particular song:

I'm on a new high

With a pen and a pad,

And for fun I attend

A jam that's super bad.

At the same time

I give it all that I have

Whether you're a square

Or the coolest lad.

So what are you waiting for? Ask, and ye shall receive. It is just that easy sometimes.

Cave In

My name is Rob, and I'm a slacker. Time flies sometimes. What I thought was a week of missed postings has actually been two.

Whoops.

Anyhow, here we are in the second week of March, and I'm gonna write about Valentine's Day.

It's ok. Just pretend it's a month ago.

I was supposed to be in North Carolina and travelling back home on Valentine's Day this year. This was both awesome and awful all at once. Awesome because I wasn't going to have to plan anything. Awful because I was going to be out of town that day.

Well, as it turned out, I didn't leave town after all because of the snowpocalypse. This, as most things do, turned out for the best.  I planned, and executed, a thing.

That morning was cold, and dreary, and gross. What better to do than go caving?!

And that's what we did. We visited Cathedral Caverns.

We showed up just after noon, when the tour was supposed to have left. Pulling into the parking lot, it seemed a little sparse.

When we walked up to the ticket booth, inquiring if a tour had just left, the gentlemen behind the counter said something to the effect of:

"Uh... you're the first two people today. Let me see if I can't find someone to lead a tour for you."

He did, and we got a private tour of the cave system.

Kick ass!

The tour guide was as laid-back as can be, and was all kinds of excited to tell us everything he could about the cave.

We got to take our time, ooh and ah over all the formations, ask questions and get detailed answers.

Oh, and I brought my camera, so I got to take some pictures.

That's what you're here for right?

Check out my flickr page to see everything I walked away with!

Snow Day

My name is Rob, and I'm not really a southerner. Sure, I was born and raised in Alabama. But I don't have the accent, I hate the heat, and I love the snow.

People down here seem to be scared of it. They might even have a right to be, on occasion. We're not really properly equipped to handle it down south. We don't have snow tires, or chains. We don't have snow plows, and the roads rarely get salted. Not to mention that we usually end up with ice on the roads instead of compacted snow.

So when there's even a threat of a dusting around here, the whole city pretty much shuts down. And, ya know what? That's ok with me, because it means I get a snow day. Plus, if you've got the wherewithal, you can still get to basically wherever you need to, even with the road closings.

Last week, Huntsville experienced a snowpocalypse.

It was Tuesday's forecast that called for a few inches of snow.

Sure enough, Monday night the news was announcing all the closings for Tuesday. My Girlfriend and I stayed up late Monday night to wait for it.

It was worth the wait. By the time we went to bed there was a fresh dusting covering everything in sight.

The following morning, after realizing her office was closed, we took a stroll around the neighborhood trying our best not to leave footprints on the newly fallen blanket covering everything.

By that afternoon, as per the norm in Alabama, all the snow had melted into a wet slurry.

But that's ok, because the forecast for Thursday was calling for 6 inches all over Huntsville.

Again, Wednesday night, we stayed up enjoying the snowfall.  We ate chili, and harvested the makings for snow-cream.

My Facebook feed was blowing up of cell phone pictures of people's front yards and mailboxes all turning white.

I knew I was going to have to get out with my camera to record the peacefulness and calm of this new perfect blanket that nature had so graciously bestowed upon me.

I knew it wasn't to last, and in the morning the place would be littered with footprints, and tire tracks, and bare spots with snowmen nearby.

It was about midnight that I trudged out into the median in the neighborhood and set up shop.

It was late, and cold. Fortunately it didn't take very long to walk away with two shots I was happy with.

Seeing the cold, calm, beauty of newly fallen snow, it still baffles me as to how anyone can dislike it.