Last Post.

sayersphoto.blogspot.com for the newer ish.

Oldness.

Found some photos I shot of Buck and Ghost of Tampa's Gravy Records last summer. Both were shot in the early AM's in Ghost's palatial North Tampa town-home.




Thanks guys.

The Grid Goes Big Time

Edgewater, Florida's skatepark, home to a wide array of underage cigarette smokers, dirtbags and jailbait hussies finally had an official contest there today. It was unbearably hot and several of Edgewater's most dynamic skaters were unable to attend. Matt Dement, who I didn't shoot any photos of (for no particular reason) should've won but it doesn't matter, because he won in my heart. I'll explain: He did a big trick, a big back 180 air off of the really steep pyramid, and then his crazy redneck dad started honking the horn, pumping his fists and yelling "That's my boy! My boy skates real good! Hell yeah!!! Hell yeah!!!"

Awesome.

I wish we could've given Matt's Dad a prize for being so epic.

PHOTOS:


I'm getting ready to leave Daytona, but over the past 2 years it's been interesting to see Mikey's transformation from young kid to 16 year old devirginized weed smoking dirt.


Possible future photographic competition Josh Doyle.


Alec looks strange in this photo. It must be the facial expression.


Ladies Division: This is how this woman (easily late 30's or early 40's) ended her run. Jump off her board to strike a pose. Epic.


Good thing CJ wasn't a judge. Actually, good thing I wasn't a judge.


Skate And Destroy.




Ha.
The old pull the chair out trick. Worked like a charm.


Adam was...bummed.

Get it?


Thomas.


He thinks he's a handstand master now.


Jake Price rips. If he didn't win he should've. I can't be bothered to keep track of those details.

A Scathing Critique of 1960's Doper Music.

I'm very weary of this bizarre resurgence of psychedelic '60's music that's come about in past years. With 15 year old girls wearing Pink Floyd t-shirts and 17 year old boys searching out similar garb, but of a more bizarre nature my suspicions, and my, perhaps too critical eye have been aroused. It should be said now that I've never participated in a "sit in" and I don't do drugs. I never really did.

But to make no bones about my disdain for "doper music" we really need to cut to the core of it: a mild case of OCD. I'm pretty particular about certain relatively stupid things. I don't have to drive around my block 3 times before I can drive out any further or anything, but I have particulars. One of them is a fairly impatient streak. That directly conflicts with a large majority of psychedelic music. I have no interest whatsoever in listening to some spacey hour and 20 minute Pink Floyd epic that not even Syd Barrett could decipher after coming down.

Now before you really get going, let me say that my disinterest in Floyd & company is not proof that I am "the problem and not the solution". I'd like to point out that is simply not the case. I don't eat meat and just because I don't want to get stoned doesn't mean I'm a pawn of the system. Fun fact: There's Fluoride in our public drinking water. Fluoride is a substance that was used in Nazi mind control experiments. See, I'm fighting the power.

Which leads me to my next point: The aforementioned "fighting the power" or the "establishment" as it were. What, if anything did these hippy bands contribute to such endeavors? Sit in's didn't solve anything, and in the case of "sharing and giving", a popular hippy/stoner mantra, what did these gents "give" anyway?

Sorry there aren't any photos this time. Next post for sure.

Of Moving & Loss.

Daytona Beach sucks really bad, so I'm moving to Bushnell, Florida. This is a very very small town where my Mom & Step Dad live. I also went to High School here. I don't like referring to it as my hometown, as I lived in Lakeland longer but whatev's, I'm avoiding the point. The point is I'm moving back in with my parents. Sick! Silver lining on the rain cloud: Moving to NYC in September.


Mountains of crap. These however are books, and not crap.


It's kind of hard figuring out what to take and what to toss. This is obviously a "take".


Surprisingly my Mom isn't a big Slick Rick fan. An unfortunate toss.


Toss it all.


My career is in those binders.


While this would look swell in my family's living room, I don't think it will make the cut.


The entire time I've lived here I've never used the pool. This town has ruined me.


Modest Mouse in Orlando ticket for sale.




The Johnny Cash poster was up for so long I took the tacks out and it stayed up.


My first camera is certainly a keeper.


A birthday card from the lovely Bee is a taker too.


Dang, I found a copy of the first Coda Skateboards catalog.


Found some paintings I did in 10th grade. So embarrassing. Immediately threw them out.


So bummed I can't take this to NY. I'm going to surprise my Mom and give it to her.


I have a friend whose alias is "The Boxcutter Bandit". Gangster.


Clothes I've had for like 4 years that don't fit anymore. Come over and go through them and come up on some clothes or I'm tossing them to Good Will.


In more hear breaking news, I can't take the cat. Someone who loves animals and doesn't eat them come take her.

No Title

I'd love to call this post "endless bummer" but since there's already a blog titled that and it's a pretty over used play on words I won't call my coverage of Daytona's "Endless Summer" festival "The Endless Bummer Festival". It has no title as a result. Sorry dudes.


Started the day with a skate down the sidewalk and a collision with the rear end of this car. Awesome. Not even a cup of coffee in me yet and I'm already taking slams.


I'm off and on about regretting or enjoying my new haircut.


Awesome.


Nothing says "Buy with confidence" like putting all of a cars paper work in the window. Good show, sir.


Thank you US Government.


The new government housing is pretty nice. Generosity is becoming fashionable again.


I've always liked this building.


A dutch gas station.


Potential skate spot.


At the festival it was a total hippy jam.


I'm not sure what dreadlock hippy pirate santa's deal was, but I'm sure he was protesting something.


Some park bums came out and then got into a drunken argument. At 1:00pm.


Then he peaced out with his chick.


The city employees enjoyed themselves.


Pirate rasta santa, biochemical waste guy wearing crocs and the city worker all in one photos. If you like people watching as much as I do, this is pretty enjoyable.


I'm outta here. The Dirt City booth had some nice art out though.


I was hating on the hippy's so I went to the Bucks. As far as the hippy's go, I won't get into it but I was sour from my slam and the hot weather so the participants of the fest felt my mental wrath. Sorry for the, uh, bad vibes.

After my hateful mental wrath, a photo shoot with Tone in the recording studio.

Being in a recording studio isn't as exciting as it seems, despite many people's popular opinion. In reality unless you're a musician it's rather boring and mundane after a couple times.



Despite looking annoyed, Tone is always happy, he just looks hard.



The night ended with a little bout of the old social anxiety and the only photo I could shoot that can fill a place to wrap things up is:


Thank you and goodnight.