~Motor Doll Behind the Lens~

Guess what?

2012-01-27T20:45:00.000-08:00

So remember, like, YEARS ago, when I wrote my novel MOTOR DOLLS? And then the sole focus was to find an agent cause THAT'S WHAT WRITERS DO even though only about ten percent get signed? And then--glory be to heaven--AN AGENT ACTUALLY SIGNED ME??

Yeah. I remember that too. I also remember how she had me rework the novel to the point it no longer resembled what I originally wrote. Argh. Then she shopped it to publishers and had interest from a couple of MAJOR houses, only to have them want further changes?"...maybe limit the cars since girls might not get it..." Really?

Yep. Remember that too. I also remember it all falling part and never wanting to write again.

I also remember several "Oh-joyous-day-I-want-to-write-again..." posts...

So why is this one different?

CAUSE I GAVE MYSELF A DEADLINE.

And since I work in news, I ALWAYS honor my deadlines. In fact, I already spoke with a couple of artists about doing the cover art (oh... will it ever be fun!!!) and have started laying out the novel for both it's e-book and the print book. I'm about a quarter of the way through the final cleanup edit...

Then I'm going to take the beauty to print under the MOTOR PALACE PRESS imprint.

My deadline you ask? MID-MARCH. I want the final product in my hand by April first. I want the promo materials like post cards and stickers and stuff by Viva Las Vegas. The I'm gonna plaster the joint! HA!

So your job? HOLD ME TO IT.

Okay.

That's all.

Later gators!

Interesting and Odd

2011-11-30T17:17:00.001-08:00

Since I've been slackin' the last couple days on the blog, and I don't really feel like writing about my news day, this post is going to be a mish-mash of the INTERESTING and ODD things that happened over the last couple of days... or at least INTERESTING and ODD to me. So here they are in no particular order.

Did you know a lot of people shop on their smart phones? That's something I learned during our Cyber-Monday story. You probably knew that, but I found it INTERESTING (if not a wee bit disturbing)! Rampant consumerism. So why is our economy tanking? Most INTERESTING .

Here's something kinda ODD and voo-doo-ish.

I went to the antique fair in Torrance on Sunday (seen here with my swell family), and because I felt like being a girl, I wore one of my favorite vintage dresses. While walking around checking out all the cool stuff, a woman approached and handed me a clutch. She said she wanted me to have it because it matched my outfit so perfectly and I had the guts to wear vintage. Super nice, right? Then like five minutes later, the handle on my own vintage purse BROKE. Yep. So her little gift came in quite handy. I find that INTERESTING and ODD... don't you?

Here's something for ya. Why don't we listen to our brains? INTERESTING, right?

On Friday, I took my visiting family on a SoCal tour (my super cool Aunt Debbie was in town from Kentucky) and one of our stops was the Crystal Cove tide pools. We were checking out all the cute little critters when I decided--despite my brain telling me it was stupid and I'd probably slip--to step over a crevasse to the other side. And guess what? I did in fact slip, doing a pirouette--so my Aunt Debbie says--and falling between the jagged rocks up to my hips in water and my shoulders in rock, and in that process, smashed up a rather expensive lens. ODD how I didn't listen to my own common sense, don't ya think?

Speaking of brain control, we did a most INTERESTING interview with Depak Chopra today.

Talk about the epitome of calm! He's in town hosting a seminar for war vets on how to use the mind to heal both emotional and physical ailments. I'm a big believer in the power of positive thinking and know he's truly onto something. Heck. Norman Vincent Peale's Power of Positive Thinking pulled me out of pretty dark place once.Wanna hear something ODD? I found the book at a point when I'd hit rock bottom. I used to walk over to the La Brea Tar Pits and sit on a bench there to think, and one day it was just sitting there waiting. And guess what? The tar pits were one of the unplanned places we visited this week.... ODD.

The Tar Pits themselves... INTERESTING. So very, very INTERESTING. Especially since my visiting Aunt Debbie had been reading about them, and we just happened to be driving on La Brea and she asked if they were near and we were just blocks away... so we went. WHOA.... ODD.

Another ODD bit. Our legal system. Odd is perhaps too gentle a term to describe the disasters in our courts. Why is it that a man who walks into a salon, blows away eight people (including his ex-wife), and gives a full confession to the police when arrested, pleads NOT GUILTY during an arraignment for the crime???

Come on! Clearly he had no problem taking responsibility for the crime after he did it, so why do the attorneys talk him into pleading not guilty instead of sparing the tax payers a whole lot of money and time for a lengthy trial?? Talk about a waste! He knows he's guilty, all the witnesses know he's guilty, upon arrest his truck was full of the weapons used, he had on a bullet proof vest, and most of all, the man put up his hands when the cops stopped him minutes after the rampage and said, "I know what I did." What more do ya need????? ODD. And flat out stupid. That was my story yesterday.

ODD. The characters on Hollywood Boulevard. Totally ODD (and frankly quite creepy).

My family. Both INTERESTING and ODD. Whoa. Beyond odd! But that's why I love 'em! Thanks for a wonderful visit Aunt Debbie, Daddy, and Mommy! Love ya!

I could probably dig up some other INTERESTING and ODD things from the past couple of days ('cause life is full of 'em), but it's getting dark and I want to go veg. Hope you enjoyed this little diversion from the norm.

Later gators!

Woo hoo!!! It's almost T-Giving!!

2011-11-23T16:58:00.001-08:00

In less than twenty-four hours, I will be stuffin' the stuffin' into my gaping maw with my ma, pa, feller, and Aunt Debbie from Kentucky. Mmmmmm!!! I do so love Thanksgiving.

But first... I must finish my work day. Easy enough story: Tips on how to be safe during the holidays, like locking car doors and house doors. Should be obvious, right? But so many people forget. OR... and this is the big one... they leave STEAL-ABLE things in plain sight, like on the front seats or windows of their cars. Not that I'd ever do something like that. Nope. Nuh-uh. Ahem... certainly not in the news van. Someone like me would NEVER get their windows busted out.

Ahem... okay. Moving on.

Mall parking lots are one of the most common spots for bad guys to take stuff from inside your car. It took a while, but we finally found a mall who would let us on their premises (most think we're Satan's Spawn and keep us far, far away). Shot the story. Had a little lunch. Bought a super cute pair of shoes!! (Yes, I really am a girl, even though it's often hard to tell). I especially like the cuteness of this shoe contrasted with my really, really ugly old Roots work boots! Ha!

I got back and put the mast up on the truck (it goes up 40 feet, but I needed only about 20). My pal Mark in routing said, "I never, never, never say this to a woman, but you're perfect!" Granted, he was talking about my microwave signal, not me, but I'll take it... when all of the sudden, BAM!!!! I look up to see my mast shooting the other 20 feet up into the air even though I wasn't holding the Up button!!! WHOA! My transmitter went into Red (not good) and I saw a cable dangling broken forty feet up. Uh oh. Really not good. SO... no live shot for us. The truck will have to go up for repairs.

Instead, I cut the piece and fed it in via MCDS, which is our video dropbox on the Internet. With the new 4G cards, it takes just a couple of minutes to feed versus 20-40 minutes on the old 3G. Gotta love technology!

And since I'll be with Mom and Dad the next four days (and I write this blog primarily for them), I'll be taking a break for a bit.

Until Monday...

Eat lots and lots and lots of good T-Giving stuff....

Later gators!

Killer Trees

2011-11-22T15:41:00.001-08:00

One thing you learn in this business, is that terrible things happen to people for no good reason, like Haeyoon Miller, who was crushed by a Eucalyptus tree a couple of months ago as she drove along Irvine Avenue in Newport Beach.

Photo from the Orange County Register

People say the tree had been leaning, but no one reported it to the city. And then it fell, crushing the car and the driver.

There are tons of Eucalyptus in Newport, planted in the twenties and thirties as a wind break for the farmland once covering the area. They have a life span of about 100 years and most of the trees dotting the Newport landscape are between 60 to 80 years old. Yes, they're reaching the end.

But regardless, the city's reaction to the accident seems extreme to many, including me. Within weeks, the city cut down 140 trees, and now they're talking about cutting 33 more in a neighborhood.

Why kill more trees? Yes, I feel great sympathy for the Miller family, but that accident was just that. An accident. Like a lightening strike. The odds of something like that happening again I imagine are pretty steep. So why strip an entire community of nature?? Granted, the city promises to replant more stable trees in their place... and I get that. I really do. I know Eucalyptus are precarious trees with shallow roots, but why not monitor them instead, only removing them when absolutely necessary. Not only would that save the city money, it would preserve the trees for a few more years, maybe even decades. A commission voted against removing the trees, but the mayor wants to open it up for discussion again. Come on! Why not trust the experts??

Uh oh. I'm expressing an opinion. I'm not supposed to do that. But... SAVE THE TREES!!!

The vote is tonight.

I'll let you know tomorrow.

Oh! And to follow up on a story from a couple days ago. Remember the fourteen year old who went missing right before Halloween?

She is now home safe and sound after spending a couple weeks with a twenty-four year old man at HIS PARENTS HOUSE. Seriously??? What the heck were his parents thinking letting him keep his fourteen year old girlfriend there??? Oh dear. I'm really ranting today, aren't I. Sorry. At least she's home.

Until tomorrow...

Later gators!

Play Hard or Go Home!

2011-11-21T21:38:00.001-08:00

I'm going to keep this post short, one, because our news story wasn't that interesting, and two, because I'm beat and stressed from a two hour drive home in bumper to bumper traffic. My regular reporter called in sick today, so I had to hoof it to Hollywood for a shoot. Amazing how a thirty-eight mile drive can take that long! Argh! Gotta love L.A.!

First, a quick note about the weekend. Our G-Girl meeting was fun and informative, and the plaque collection of Stan the Plaque man was phenomenal!! Click the picture to see the full photo album.

The surf trip to San Elijo was FANTASTIC!! Kristin and I felt as if we'd been swept away on a magnificent vacation, even if only for a day. Lots and lots of time in the water--and I stood up first thing on the surfboard!!! Granted, I still didn't "surf" in my mind, just stood up. But that's a start, right? Great company, great food, a sunset dinner at a fantastic restaurant, and fireside s'mores. What more could a girl want??

I didn't make it through the day unscathed, though. Wanna see my war wounds??? First, my swollen foot from... a jelly fish sting? From over stressin' my foot? Not sure, although I did feel a sting during the day, but couldn't find a mark on the bottom of my foot. Pretty, huh?

My other war wound, this lovely, fist sized bruise on my hip! I got this from getting tumbled in a wave and whacked by the fin of the surfboard. Ouch!! Ha ha ha ha! No big deal. I think the wounds only add to the experience. Play hard or go home, right??

As for my news story, it really was rather pointless. It rained yesterday (oh no!), and Melrose flooded (oh no!). Melrose is a trendy, low-brow kinda shopping district, and, from what we could gather, the drains didn't drain quick enough and some water got into the stores. Yes, news to the shop owners, but not really news TODAY for the viewing public. Yesterday maybe, but not today. Fortunately, our place had sent a crew out yesterday so we had something to work with. To flesh it out, Jen and I did a couple interviews. Slapped it together. Set up on Melrose for a live shot.

The most entertaining part? The people watching of course. Punk rock, baby!

And then of course, my day ended with the two stinkin' hour drive home! Argh!!! Okay. Well... writing this helped mellow me out, so... thanks!

Now I'm off to the tub to further unwind. Hmmm.... I wonder if it's reasonable to use my new Kindle for tub reading? What's the worst that can... never mind. Electronics. Water. No bueno.

Until tomorrow...

Later gators!

Flyin' High!!

2011-11-18T14:42:00.001-08:00

Remember a couple of days ago when I did the story on the helicopter supervisor who allegedly took his girlfriend on a joy ride and I said it would have been a really cool day if I'd gotten to go up in the helicopter??

Well today, I got to go up in one!!! Woo hoo!! Lance here was our very skilled pilot.

In case you hadn't heard, the Natalie Wood death investigation has been reopened because the Captain on the boat that night has now come forward and said he lied to investigators at the time. He claims Robert Wagner and Natalie Wood had a terrible argument that night, and that after she disappeared, Wagner didn't want to make any effort to find her. The captain said he believes Wagner was responsible for her death.

Because we're the closest crew to Catalina, my reporter and I got to hop on a helicopter and fly over to interview Doug Bombard, the former Harbor Master of Two-Harbors, who, not only was friends with the couple, but was also the one who recovered her body. He gave us a helicopter tour pointing out where the dingy was found, and how he, from that, figured which way the current would have taken her body. Within half an hour, he found her.

An interesting tidbit about Doug: He was born on Catalina Island in 1926! His dad, a race car mechanic, moved there in 1920. What the heck was even out there back then?? For those of you who don't know, Catalina is a very small island off the Southern California coast, about 3600 people. You can pretty much see all there is to see within a day or two--although I guess there is quite a bit of uninhabited stuff to explore. I can't imagine growing up in such a place, especially that long ago!

The best part of the trip was flying low over the water. It almost felt as if we were skimming it. AND... we saw an AMAZING school of dolphin doing acrobatics! Along the shoreline, the water looked deep turquoise. So very, very pretty.

Often, people ask how I deal with all of the bad stuff I have to cover for the news, and sadly, I do see a lot of bad stuff. BUT... there are the days like today when I get paid to do something pretty darned cool. Granted, the core story is not a good one, but the experience certainly was.

And now I've gotta wrap this up. Busy night and weekend ahead. Tonight? It's our monthly Gasoline Girl meeting at Stan the Plaque Man's Shop (he's the one who made our plaques and many, many other SoCal Car club plaques). And tomorrow, fellow G-Girl Kristin and I are meeting a bunch of car guys down at San Elijo beach in San Diego for a day of surfin!!! Woo hoo!!!

Until Monday...

Later Gators!

Adapting to change....

2011-11-17T11:58:00.001-08:00

I'm going to veer off the daily news story theme for a bit because I'm doing something entirely new. I'm writing this post with my all new Kindle Fire. Cool, eh?

I, like many novelists, hesitated with the whole E-READER thing. The romance of holding a book couldn't be replaced by a machine. No way, no how. Nuh uh...

I went through the same thing with digital cameras. Nothing could replace film. No way, no how. Nuh uh...

But... I was wrong. I know, I know. Not easy to admit, but I'll be a big girl about it. I love the immediacy of digital cameras and the ability to shoot and shoot to my heart's content without the time and expense of film. And I tell ya... the instant feedback has made me a better photographer. I remember the days when I'd make notes on a little pad about each frame then try to compare those notes to the images once they were processed and printed. It wasn't easy to experiment. But with digital?? ENDLESS experimentation.

So when Kindle came out with the Fire, I decided to give it a try. I'd been wrong about digital cameras; maybe I was wrong about this. And besides, if I hated it as a reader I could still use it for web access, movies, music... and the price was right, so why not?

And guess what? I've had it less than 24 hours and I love this thing! Last night when I pulled this sucker out of the box, I immediately went for the book selections, and found the forgotten (on my part) third part of the Hunger Games!! After reading the second book in the trilogy, I couldn't wait for the third to come out but somehow got buried in other stuff and forgot! Mockingjay was my first Kindle download. Within seconds I had my book with no trip to the bookstore! Dang! How cool is that???

I thought I'd hate reading off a screen, but after a couple of paragraphs I forgot about the device. The page background can be set to off-white, like most books, and it's easy to hold, turn pages, and simply lose yourself in make believe without the bulk and waste (hard as it is to say) of paper.

So... adapting to change isn't too bad, right?

Which kinda ties into one of my news stories today about a new retirement study. Talk about adapting! Instead of the hallowed 65 to retire, most people working today will have to work until they're 80. Yep! I said 80. The graph below shows the percentage of each retirement dollar people expect to get from the government. I'd say it's pretty accurate. I look at the difference between my parents and I. They retired a couple years ago, and in addition to a lot of very smart saving, are getting social security. Can I count on that same supplement?? Who knows. I know I'm not counting on it, which fits into the 20% for 40-somethings!

And man! The way my 401k continually gets devalued. Yikes!

The big fear for me is this: Can I carry all this heavy gear until I'm 80? Years ago, my feller and I talked about the impact carrying fifty to sixty pounds every day might have on me physically and we decided I should retire by 45. Well... that's less than a year away, and I sure don't think I'm financially close to retiring, nor am I mentally done with it either. I still enjoy what I do. Look at all the great people I meet, and the amazing things I see!

Hmmm... The whole workin' til 80 thing might not be as easy to adapt to as switching from a book to an E-Reader.

In addition to the retirement story, the day started with an explosion in Anaheim (and an early call for me) and ended with an Occupy OC event at John Wayne airport.

But really... I don't need to go into detail. I've rambled on entirely too long with this post and truthfully, I want to go play with my Kindle Fire.

(Confession here... Halfway through the blog post, I switched to the computer to write. I'm thrilled I have the ability to post from the Kindle, but it's tough to two-finger type on the screen pad, especially when I can whiz through it on a computer!)

Until another exciting day tomorrow...

Later gators!

Whew! So many stories, so little time...

2011-11-16T19:25:00.000-08:00

Wowie. Did I ever get moved around today!!

My reporter was given the day to "enterprise" future stories, in other words, rather than doing the run-n-gun day-of-air reporting, she could do some research and set up some perhaps more in depth pieces to shoot down the road.

I, however, still needed to get out there and cover the happenings in Orange County. And man, did I cover it!

First stop? The Orange County Fire Authority. Six o'clock last night, some drunk ran through the gates, knocked over a pole, and crashed into the 911 Memorial, where, because of the eternal flame burning, his car caught fire.

Next, I headed down south to Laguna Hills High School,where a group of mentally disadvantaged kids in a life skills program got a recycling award. These kids were awesome! Even though most of them lacked verbal skills, they were so much fun. And you could see their pride in contributing to the school and community by recycling all of the water and soda bottles.

This dark-haired boy below, Devon, took a liking to me and became my BFF during the shoot. He hung onto my arm the entire time--which made for a challenging hour, but he was so darn sweet I couldn't say no.

From there, I headed north to Cal State Fullerton to cover more of the "Occupy" stuff. Today, the CSU trustees in fact voted for a 9% fee increase, which resulted in chaos over at Cal State Long Beach, including a shattered glass double door. In Fullerton, things were considerably calmer. They've set up tents outside the library in an attempt to educate fellow students about what's going on in the trustee system and what they can do to push for change. Tonight, they'll have a rally and discuss the day's happenings.

And finally, to round out the day, I ended up in Santa Ana at the Sheriff's Department to shoot a silhouetted interview of a mom who wanted to get the word out about child annoyance.

Her middle school aged daughter who has to ride public transportation to school, was being repeatedly harassed by a man on the bus to the point she no longer wanted to go to school. When her mom realized how serious it was becoming, she reported it to the sheriff's and they did in fact arrest him.

Yay for the good guys!

WHEW! I hardly had time to inhale my burrito today!

So now I'm headed home to relax, and maybe, do it all over again tomorrow.

Until then....

Later gators!

Shattered Glass

2011-11-15T22:49:00.000-08:00

Oh dear. It was not a good couple of days for me and glass.

Saturday I decided to change out the old cracked windshield in my '48 Ford with a new one... but the glass cracked on the way to Torrance (I'm assuming), where I'd planned to demonstrate to a lovely group of ladies how to do it. Read all about it here.

This morning, at 4:20 a.m., the alarm on my news van went off, and Brian said he heard the pop of glass. Sure enough, someone had busted both the driver's side and passenger side windows out.

And for what... my GPS unit and an ancient cell phone. Thankfully, nothing more was stolen. It astounds me how petty thieves put their freedom at risk for something so small.

But then... considering our jails are at 180 percent of capacity, petty thieves probably don't do much jail time. The most ridiculous part?? I KNEW better than to leave my GPS in plain sight! Heck, I'd done tons of news stories on smash and grabs with GPS devices. The one night I forget to put it away... *sigh*

So... I got a lovely morning drive in a windowless van from Orange to Burbank. Brrrrr!! It was actually kind of fun, though, kinda like bein' in a roadster!

While waiting for the glass guy to get the new windows in, I got lots of little repairs done to my equipment. Since I don't make it to the lot very often, I don't get days to take care of this kind of stuff, so that was handy.

Then it was off with one of my favorite reporters to do a story on traffic! A new nationwide traffic study indicated that 6 of the 7 most congested stretches of highway are in Los Angeles. Funny. No one we talked to seemed surprised. Ha!

The SINGLE MOST congested stretch of highway in the United States, according to the researchers, is on the Harbor Freeway, specifically the three-mile stretch of northbound California Highway 110 near Dodger Stadium running through downtown.

The report estimates more than 1.4 million person hours are wasted each year by people sitting in traffic at that one intersection, using 2.1 million gallons of gasoline. Dang! No wonder I always avoid that section of freeway!

Yawn! Sorry. It was a long day, considering my rude wake up call this morning. I'm off to sleepyland!

Until tomorrow....

Later gators!

What began as a lovely day...

2011-11-12T20:37:00.000-08:00

It's Friday. It's Veteran's Day. And it's 11/11/11. So I deserve a fun story today, right? Plus, I did my little dance last night to the news gods for something visual, and hey! I got my wish!

The news planners wanted us to do a story on coastal weather. Newsworthy why? Because we're expecting a big storm tonight and tomorrow. I know the producers had visions of people at the beach in the rain. But... it's not raining yet.

I didn't complain, though. The assignment got me to the beach! I have a little obsession right now: learning to surf. My pal El Marko took me out a couple of weekends ago and I've been thinkin' about it a whole lot ever since. (You can read all about it here). So to take pictures of surfers??? A dream assignment!!!

I talked to this nice surfer girl when she got out of the water and mentioned I was just learning and really wanted to get out in the water again. She told me about a group of beginner women who get together in Newport! Can't wait to check 'em out.

I was happy. Smiling. Talked to this nice couple from Vegas who were quite cold in the wind.

Then... they changed my story. BOO!!!!!

To what you ask? What could be more newsworthy than a rain story on a non-stormy beach?

A missing 14-year-old girl. Jackie Martinez left her house October 30th to go candy shopping, but never came home. Cops later found out (via her Facebook page) that she planned to meet up with a 15-year-old boy, but he claims she never showed. Nothing much was done over her now twelve-day absence because she'd sent a text the day after her disappearance saying she was okay, and by back tracking on her FB page, its clear she had a history of meeting up with boys.

But regardless of her past behavior, she's still fourteen, and she's still missing. Now the PD is putting out a larger effort to find out where she is. Friends and family have created a Facebook page to get her picture out there. The very social networking that may have gotten her into trouble in the first place now used to maybe help find her.

So while I lost the visual story, at least maybe I ended up doing a story that might aid in the search for Jackie. Yeah, 14-year-old girls do dumb things sometimes, but that doesn't mean bad things should happen to her.

And now... I'm ready for a fun, Gasoline Girl weekend. Bondorella will be getting new glass! Check out www. bondorella.worpress.com for an update on that! Should be posted by Monday.

Until then....

Later gators!

Helicopter Joyride

2011-11-10T19:10:00.000-08:00

I'm not too excited about writing this post. Why? 'Cause today's story wasn't fun to shoot. Why not? 'Cause there wasn't much to shoot!! Now if I'd actually gone up in the helicopter that would be different... but... uhhh... no. That would have been wrong because the whole reason a helicopter ride became a news story was due to an anonymous letter accusing a Deputy of using the Sheriff's Department helicopter to take his girlfriend on a joy ride. I imagine taking a news photographer for a ride would also fit under inappropriate use.

A few years ago, Orange County had a huge scandal involving the Sheriff's Department, one that resulted in Sheriff Mike Carona and others going to jail. It's a long, involved story and if you want to know more, just Google the former Sheriff's name. The reason I bring this up is because Orange County is now extra-sensitive about any hint of corruption in the department.

So of course, the Sheriff's Department and the Board of Supervisors snapped to attention when they received this anonymous letter:

The letter alleges a supervisor of the helicopter crew took his girlfriend on a taxpayer funded flight around Orange County. The reason this harkens back to the aforementioned scandal? Assistant Sheriff Jaramillo was also accused of using the helicopter for personal reasons, like going to retrieve his wife's purse.

When I said there wasn't much to shoot, I meant it. The helicopter is stored in an area we can't access so I had no way to get any shots. Thank goodness for FILE VIDEO. Old pot busts saved the day. Anytime they find a field of maryjuana out in the middle of nowhere, they use the helicopter to haul it out and we're usually there covering it. I did a little archive search, and found what I needed. Other than that, we shot a couple of interviews and a very exciting exterior of the Sheriff's department. *YAWN*... Nothing terribly visual there.

As for the allegations against the deputy, the department is looking into it. One of the supervisors we interviewed thinks it might all be a misunderstanding, that the alleged "girlfriend" was actually a fellow deputy in plain clothes. It will all come to light soon, once they look at the FAA records for the flight.

But until then... please... pretty please with sugar on top... let me have a nice VISUAL story tomorrow? Is that really too much to ask? :)

Until tomorrow....

Later gators!

"We say fight back!"

2011-11-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

I've gotta say... I like covering protests, as long as I'm not getting pushed, shoved, or pepper sprayed (and yes I have at one time or another experienced all three).

For the most part, protestors actually (gasp) want the media there. We're a tool to get their message out, and really, that's the point of a protest, right? I mean, if they went to all the trouble to alter their usual routine, grab a picket sign, and take to the streets, they must be pretty passionate about sharing their opinions.

But (back to the reason why I like shooting protests) in addition to the thrill of not being hated or reviled (at least not to our face), protests are super visual and full of "nat" sound, or in real man speak, the natural sound of the event. I LOVE nat sound. Nat sound infuses a story with life. I mean really. Think of a story about a protest where you hear only the reporter speaking, and the spokespeople speaking, but no loud chants or drums pounding or horns blaring. Without that sound, there's no energy. And when you have people chanting and marching and waving signs... well, it really is a perfect scenario for getting a great piece.

All right. So now you know I enjoyed shooting my story today, but you don't know what the protestors were protesting about, right? Well it's kind of tied into the Occupy movements, all concerning use of funds and budgeting, this time, with the University of Cal systems. Across California, students and faculty protested financial issues, like tuition hikes and salary freezes. Yeah, it stinks. But hey... paying for an education has never been easy, and certainly isn't now. As my reporter and I discussed, college is a privilege, not a right. Always has been. But my opinion isn't part of the story.

So while budget cuts can be a dry subject, at least the protestors add an exciting visual and auditory element. They had a nice diverse crowd at UCI. Funny how college students will always protest something, even if they're not totally sure about the core reasons behind what they're protesting. I guess it's a rite of passage. I wouldn't know...

Until tomorrow!

Later gators!

Oh the insanity!!

2011-11-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

(This is for you, Mommy and Daddy, since you missed my daily reports... xo)

Yesterday I had one of those crazy, illogical days that happen entirely too often in the news biz. My reporter and I have been working on a sweeps piece about... oh wait. I shouldn't say since it won't air until Monday. Let's just say it has something to do with famous hamburgers.

But that’s not really part of yesterday’s craziness.

The craziness came from getting redirected all over the Southland. Technically, I'm based in the Orange County bureau for NBC News-Los Angeles, but because we’re short staffed, one of the two photogs based in OC is pulled from the county daily. Yesterday, I got the OC shift and my reporter and I were given the day to finish up the sweeps piece. Just as we wrapped our last interview, I got a MAYDAY call from the assignment desk. They needed me for a Dia de los Muertos shoot and live shot from... Koreatown--Koreatown? Really? Wouldn't, like, Olvera Street make more sense?

Anyway, if you’re not familiar with L.A., Koreatown is about 35 miles north of the OC, but 35 miles in L.A. traffic can sometimes take up to two hours. I made it in just over an hour. As soon as I’d finished shooting the story and was about to edit (happy with the very pretty, colorful pictures of the Day of the Dead altar) the desk called with another MAYDAY. There’d been a situation at the San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station south of San Clemente—like 70 miles south from where I was. Seriously??? The call came at four o’clock; they wanted us live at six. Not a stinking chance, I told them, but they said go anyway. Here's my path yesterday, with "A" being my base station in OC.

SO… I hit the road again, passed back through Orange County and headed to the northern tip of San Diego county… for what? A small ammonia spill in a non-nuclear part of the facility. A total NON-emergency. And no, I didn’t make it in time for the six o’clock news.

Part of the reason news agencies have bureaus is because in large metropolitan areas like Los Angeles, it takes too darn long to get anywhere. By having bureaus, you can make sure there’s always a crew in proximity. By pulling both crews out of OC, it left my reporter with no crew and a breaking story.

But here’s the deal: there’s no sense getting mad about it. Right away when the MAYDAY call comes, the blood starts pumping and the first impulse is to yell, are you crazy??

But you've just gotta take a deep breath, and go with it. It's part of the job. And part of what I love is the day-to-day variance, so...

The silver lining... got to see sunset over San Onofre State Beach. All in a day's work. Whew.

Today? A follow up on the confusion about the nuclear alert system in the community. There shouldn't have been so much hubbub over a small incident, and it came down to a lack of uniformity in the alert numbering system.

Tomorrow, we're supposed to get the day to finish the top secret sweeps piece, which might involve having to buy a hamburger and fries to shoot. And of course, it can't be wasted, right?

But who knows what the day will really hold.

Until tomorrow....

Later gators!

How to tell a TV news story without any pictures...

2011-10-11T17:16:00.000-07:00

What makes TV news different from print journalism (other than the smashing good looks of the anchors) is... pictures. Moving pictures to be exact.

If a newspaper has a picture poor story, it's okay. It can still go to print. For TV? Uh uh. Nope. Gotta have those images flickering by.

Today's offering. Old people and pot-laced brownies. Yep. You heard me. But the old folks didn't know they were imbibing maryjuana. Nope. They simply partook of some brownies at a friend's memorial, and three of them got quite sick. An 82-year-old man even fell down due to the dizziness. (He ate three brownies. His wife said he loves brownies.)

Here's the deal: The deceased was a man who suffered with cancer and used medical maryjuana. His daughter, in tribute to him, made the medical maryjuana brownies and brought them to the memorial. Some of the quests knew what they were; some did not--like the three elderly who were taken to the hospital with symptoms of nausea and dizziness.

The problem with telling this story for TV: the victims weren't identified, so we couldn't go talk to them, thus no pictures of people. The culprit, in this case the baker/daughter, also not identified, thus, no bad guy. And where does one find pot-laced brownies in the middle of a Tuesday to take pictures of? Yeah... so no pictures of brownies. The cops said the memorial took place at a local golf course; the golf course named said it wasn't them, so no location. ARGH!

What pictures did we have for our news story? Exteriors of the hospital. Some video I'd shot a while back at a medical maryjuana dispensary, and the interview with the cop. And my super exciting creative "blurred out elderly." That's where we go all Dateline-style.

Why did we still do the news story without the primary elements, you ask? Because the cops wanted to get out the message that even if you have a doctor recommendation for medical maryjuana, it is NOT OKAY to share with your pals, or to feed it to unknowing senior citizens.

So there it is.

So many blogs...

2011-09-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

Hello!!

If you're interested in my ramblings, most of my writing is now on the Gasoline Girl blog or Bondorella's blog or the 66 Motor Palace blog (occasionally, although mostly the feller writes that one).

Maybe someday I'll get back to this one! After browsing through it, I kind of like seeing a history of my news stories. Hmmm....

Being a Motor Doll

2010-08-03T19:23:00.000-07:00

It's all about Motor Doll stuff for me right now: Working with the Gasoline Girls to get all of our cars going. Getting my '48 Ford back on the road. Making plans for the Winslow Motor Palace. During my vacation last week, I spent all of my time on those three pursuits.

The week began in Mojave to finish the job we started on Kristin's Studebaker. A couple weeks ago, we put in a new transmission, but there were some bugs... so we couldn't bring Stude home. Clearly you can see from her smile, Kristin is a very happy girl now. With the help of "Big Daddy" Bart, we finished all of the fine-tuning, and got her rolling again. Kristin even drove her to Vegas this week! Success!!

Next on the agenda? Get Bondorella rollin', too.

A couple Saturdays ago, Kristin, Rosa, and I had a strip party and got most of the green paint off the cab of my '48. From there, I had to get it down to bare metal, which is how I spent mid-week of my vacation: Grinding bondo off of Bondorella, with the help of Kristin, and a little bonus help from Hells Belle, Kat.

The goal is to get Bondorella back on the road ASAP so she'll be ready for Ventura Nationals the beginning of September. It would be my first outing in the new and improved pickup, and our first event together as a car club. Bondorella still needs a couple of holes patched, her taillights wired, and her front end reassembled. Plus, we need to put some miles on her to make sure all is good before I make such a long trek. Wish us luck.

I finished off the week with a trip to Winslow to do some work on the Motor Palace. We're still waiting on permits to start construction on our "motel room," but in the meantime, we need to fix some issues highlighted by the structural engineer, like "pointing" bricks (filling in the mortar where it's gone), which is what we did--thanks to the fine teachings of Glenn, a steeple-jack who specializes in historic brick buildings, and who will being doing the bulk of the work on the Palace.

Don't you love this great plaster found under the insulation?? We're going to try and leave as much visible as possible. The former owners framed in the entire building and insulated it, hiding all of this wonderful, textural material. Our goal is to have tons of "truth windows" so we can see the history of the building right there on the walls. I think the Palace will be quite a sight when it's done. Be sure to add it to your list of "must sees" along Route 66. And check out our new website! We'll post regular updates there.

So last week was all about getting dirty and getting things done. Would I have rather been sipping a fruity beverage on an exotic beach? Maybe... but I did have a heck of a lot of fun just being a Motor Doll.

The week in summary...

2010-07-15T08:28:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I wrote a blog and never posted it. Ha! Silly me. The reason I'm posting it now? I'm too crunched to write up an entirely new entry, and I wanted to share the news!! Stacy Doss, the woman trying to adopt two year old Vanessa and hitting roadblocks, won her appeal! She has a stay on the order to turn Vanessa over. Granted, it's not a conclusion to the story, but at least she can keep Vanessa for now. I'm so, so happy for them.

I had an amazing weekend at Gene Winfield's place out in the desert putting a transmission in fellow Gasoline Girl Kristin's Studebaker. Look for a post soon over at Motor Dolls.

And now, here is last weeks, week in summary:

Monday: Big Waves at the Wedge
Tuesday: New local-boy player for the Anaheim Ducks Hockey Team
Wednesday: Off work to wait for the refrigerator repairman
Thursday: Preview of Fan Fest for the Allstar Baseball game
Friday: Medical Marijuana Dispensaries

I'm gonna say right now... this is probably the most boring post I've ever made. So why not delete it? Well... I like to torture my readers. ;)

There it is! Not too bad of week. No huge, tragic stories. Shooting high waves at the famous Wedge surf spot is always a thrill. They got to about fourteen feet on Monday. Too big for boards, but a few crazy dudes went out to body surf. And the crowds! Of course, the lifeguards blamed them on us for reporting the heck out of the high surf. Hundreds of people headed out to the end of the Balboa Pennisula to take a gander. Of course, they all found it pretty amusing when one of the big waves doused me! Luckily, I kept the camera dry. Sometimes in order to get the most dynamic shot, the photographer has to get into some funky positions.

Generally, along with our news story, we have to shoot a tease. That's where the reporter gets on camera and says, "I'm blah blah at the Anaheim Convention center, where you too can be an All Star! I'll tell you more, coming up at six." or something like that. I've got to give kudos to my reporter who donned a batting hat, got in front of the pitching machine, and managed to get her spiel out PLUS give a holy whack to the ball flying her way. Pretty impressive.

Today's story, medical marijuana. There's been an ongoing battle in a few municipalities to keep medical marijuana dispensaries out of their cities. Lake Forest gave a shut down order about a month ago based on some zoning issue. Today, the appellate court ruled in favor of the dispensaries, and they were allowed to reopen. It's a weird thing shooting inside a dispensary. Many don't want to be seen in there, even though they are legally there with their prescription (although I do sometimes question whether some of these people are really sick).

But I'm over work for the week, and ready for the weekend! Tomorrow, I'm heading to Gene Winfield's place in Mojave to help fellow Gasoline Girl Kristin put a new transmission in her '55 Studebaker. Granted, I have to get up at like four a.m. to try and beat the heat, but it should be a really interesting day.

Sunday, it's off to the Venice Vintage Motorcycle Rally! Woo hoo!

Later gators!

I know there must be a legal reason, but...

2010-07-02T18:37:00.000-07:00

...can't Judges just use common sense sometimes???

Yes, I'm going to rant a bit. When a story touches me this much, I can't help it.

A couple of days ago, I told you about Stacie and her struggles to adopt Vanessa, a baby she's had since birth.

Today, Stacie made yet another court appearance. Friends and family showed up outside the court to support her. It took about forty-five minutes behind closed doors before Stacie emerged. It was clear from her face the news wasn't good. The judge decided to hand the case over to Ohio, which means Vanessa will be taken from the only mother she's ever known, and put into foster care until an adoption hearing which is scheduled for the end of the month. At that time, she will more than likely be given to the paternal grandmother.

My goal with this blog is to share what it's like to be behind the camera while covering a news story. In a case like this, it's hard not to show emotion, even though as a photojournalist, I should hold it together. The pain and anguish in Stacie's voice when she relayed what happened in the court room was palpable. I couldn't help but cry. Everyone did. At least I could hide behind sunglasses and a camera. I can't imagine how devastated she must feel knowing she's sending her daughter into the unknown, and there's nothing she can do about it. And what about this innocent little two-year-old? How will she survive being ripped from her family and given to strangers?

Yes. There are two sides to the story. Mr. Mills is the birth father and has rights. But the birth mother made a hard decision to protect her child and give her child the chance of a better life. Her other two children with Mr. Mills are being raised by his mother. After she had the baby, and gave her to Stacie, she had her tubes tied. She's trying to do the right thing. Even her parents (who we interviewed via phone) agreed Vanessa should stay with Stacie in California, not be brought back to Ohio and a dysfunctional family.

Here's the deal with the father, Benjamin Mills Jr. He was convicted of domestic violence (mug shot above). He has four (five counting Vanessa) children, none of which he has custody. According to court docs, he dragged Vanessa's birth mother by the hair and beat her until she was unconscious. The police found clumps of her bloody hair around the house. How could a judge in his right mind rule to take this kid away from a situation where she is adored and will have the opportunity for a wonderful life and throw her back into a potentially dangerous situation with a man proven to show violence toward women?

It makes zero sense.

There's still hope. Stacie has already filed an appeal. The birth mother and the birth mother's parents believe it is unsafe to bring the baby back to Ohio. They want Vanessa to stay with Stacie.

But as it stands, in 16 days, Stacy has to hand over her daughter to strangers, and never see her again.

The website again if you want to help: Operation Vanessa

This is one of those situations where I hope the media can stimulate enough attention to maybe help.

Later gators...

OMG!!! As I'm sitting here writing this, some idiot on his way to turn himself in to parole just punched and then slammed the doors of my van. Dang!! What's wrong with people???

Weekend. Weekend. Yes, it's the weekend. Tomorrow I get to be a Motor Doll and play with my '48 Ford.

HAPPY FOURTH EVERYONE!

Woo hoo!!

2010-07-01T13:13:00.000-07:00

The beginning of May, I hit a wall. I'd been working non-stop on my novels for six years, had signed with an agent for one of them, did seven rewrites for her (including converting it to Young Adult), went through the whole publisher submission process--only to realize, it wasn't quite working in its new form. Agent and I parted ways. I didn't like what the novel had become. I tried to get back to it, and rewrite the novel in the true spirit I'd intended, but for the first time in my life, I hit major writer's block. I'd rewritten the book too many times, to the point I just couldn't see it anymore.

So I gave myself a break.

My one month rest turned into two. I was beginning to doubt if I'd ever be able to get back into it. Over the last couple of weeks I tried to dive in, but was basically just rearranging words. This morning, it hit. Not just inspiration, but the solution. I figured out what was wrong.

YAY!

I can't express enough how relieved I am. I love this project. I can't give up on it. For the first time in months, I'm eager to write. Can you believe it???

Just wanted to share. Now... I have work to do. :)

Later gators!

Wipe out!!

2010-06-29T19:48:00.000-07:00

Wow. Somehow (and I'm baffled how) when my reporter went to log the media for our story today (we shoot on P2 cards, kind of like your digital camera card but bigger) she accidentally wiped out the card. Nothing. Nada. Which was a major bummer, not only because we (obviously) couldn't put the story together for the five o'clock news, but because we had to go reshoot it.

To the interviewee: "Ummm... hi.... remember us? The news crew from early that tormented your two-year-old daughter with the giant news camera? Yeah. Well, we'd like to come back and do it all again."

Embarrassing? Nah. My reporter had to make the call! But seriously. Trying to videotape a two-year old is like trying to wash a car with a mad-cat as a rag. It's really tough. Don't get me wrong, this kid was adorable, but she was past due for her nap and didn't want to do anything I wanted her to do. After much chasing (and a whole bunch of cookies--for her, not me) I finally got enough shots to tell the story. We interviewed the mom and headed out. While I lunched, my reporter sat down to log the material. And that was when it happened. Poof! All our hard work gone.

But it was important to tell this story, which was why we went back. It was about adoption, and what happens when the birth father decides he wants to keep the child.

Two years ago, an Orange County woman got a call from the agency she was working with that a birth mother had chosen her from the web data base as the person she wanted to adopt her yet-to-be-born daughter. Stacy was elated. She'd been trying for ten years to have a child, with no luck. After splitting with her husband, she decided to adopt on her own. Two weeks later, she was flying to Ohio to pick up her new daughter. The birth-mother claimed the father wasn't in the picture and that the child was a product of a one night stand.

But that wasn't the case.

She knew the birth-father, in fact, had two other children with him. But he was an abusive man. The mother wanted the baby out of the cycle of violence. Problem was, Stacy had already taken the child back to Orange County. She'd fallen in love with little Vanessa (a name she chose while flying out to pick her up). She couldn't imagine giving this child up.

Two years later, she's still fighting the battle. She refuses to give up her child. Taking a two year old away from the only mother she's ever known would be devastating to both.

It's an incredibly tough situation, because legally, Stacy can't be Vanessa mother until the father gives up his rights, and he refuses to do so. It would be one thing if he was an upstanding citizen, but he has four other children who he does not have custody of, and has a history of domestic abuse.

If you're interested in Stacy and Vanessa's story, check out the website. Hopefully tomorrow, all the news gods will be with us and we can air the story without any more problems.

Ahhh... technology. Remember the good old days with tape?

Until tomorrow...

Later gators

Responsibility... and taking it.

2010-06-28T22:36:00.000-07:00

Okay. So you're a girl. You have two small kids, ages 2 and 5, and you start dating some dude. He's really good to you. Takes care of things. Finds you an apartment in a house after you get laid off. Gives you advice on how to take care of your kids. Do you listen even if he tells you to tie them up and give them only two glasses of water a day and nothing else???

Come on!

That was my story today (last Friday's too). Twenty-five year old chick arrested for child abuse after her landlord (who also lives in the house) reported her. Turns out the chick's boyfriend sent her 850 texts explaining how to discipline her kids. 850 TEXTS!!! Seriously? Is he a thirteen year old girl?? No! Even better. He's a behavior technician employed by a school to help mentally disabled children. What the hell is wrong with this guy? Oh! But it gets better! He's also married and has two kids. The name he gave the girlfriend? Not his real name. Mr. Double-Life. What a scumbag, eh?

So then here's the question: Who is more at fault? The man who directed her what to do? Or the woman who did it?

We've got to take responsibility for our own decisions. According to the girl's family, her children are her life. She's never been abusive in any way until "Angelo" came into her life. But if her children truly were her life, why would she listen to a man instructing her to hurt them? It makes no sense. Much as she and her family might like to blame it all on him, ultimately she chained her children to their beds and starved them.

According to officers, the 2-year-old had severe bruising to his face, forehead and cheek and dry, cracked, bloody lips and bruising that appeared to be at varying stages. The 5-year-old had swollen arms and was extremely dehydrated. Both boys had bruises and knots on their heads. Both boys were taken to a hospital to be treated for dehydration, malnutrition and injuries. The boys, whose ribs were showing through their skin, are expected to recover.

*sigh...*

Venting over. Tomorrow is another news day, hopefully one with something a little more uplifting. If you're lookin' for some fun, check out my blog on our latest Winslow trip here.

Until then...

Later gators

Slackin'

2010-06-25T21:28:00.000-07:00

Yes. I am still alive, despite the death of my blog. I've said it before; I'll say it again: been majorly slackin' on all writing fronts. Facebook has been the only writing I've done, but that can hardly be called writing. Sometimes it's good to step away and let the brain relax for a while. My novel Motor Dolls needs a major overhaul, and I wasn't quite in the frame of mind to do it. I'm still not sure I am, but the story is creeping back into my head, so it must mean something, right?

So what have I been up to? All kinds of stuff, mostly motorcycle and car related.

Let's see... got these way cool ABC Bones leathers, circa 1960-something.

Had a swell weekend in Santa Barbara for my bff's (?0) birthday.

Spent the weekend at the Queen Mary for the Ink N Iron show.

Did a moto-trip to Winslow to check on the Motor Palace, taking as much of old Route 66 as possible. There's something really cool about spending a bunch of consecutive hours on a motorcycle riding through the desert. We did it in one shot on the way back, nearly twelve hours, although it didn't feel like it. Amazingly, we both felt great when we got back to the OC.

My '48 Ford is coming along. All of the mechanical is done, so now we're moving along to the cosmetics. I've decided to bead blast all the paint off, clear coat the bare metal, and pinstripe the heck out of it. The bed is blasted. This weekend I hope to get the frame and drive shaft painted. Charles is finishing the exhaust. Hopefully we're inching closer to the day I can drive her again.

The yet-to-be-named all girls car club has a name! The Gasoline Girls. We'll be meeting again next week at my shop, and each girl will give an oral history on her car--which is great. It's forced me to get to know my truck on a deeper level. The theory behind the assignment is so that when someone comes up to us at a car show and asks a question, we'll be able to "wow!" them with our answers. After all, we're not just pretty faces!

Work.

Yeah, uhh.... the usual. Some great days with fun stories, some depressing days. Over the last few weeks I've done everything from a local Glee club winning worldwide awards to a murder suicide where a man shot his two year old multiple times (he survived), shot at his five year old (and missed), killed his wife and then himself. See? The full spectrum.

So, you ask, "Are you getting to back to it?" I think so. I make no promises (to myself). If the inspiration hits, then I'll be here. But I do seriously want to get my writing mojo back. Anyone seen it? If so, send it packin' back my way.

Thanks for listenin'.

Later gators!

Poor Wandering Whale

2010-05-11T16:49:00.000-07:00

Here's a fascinating fact: Did you know whales can shut off half their brains? That way, they can sleep and still swim. Man! How I would love to accomplish stuff while sleeping.... Hey. I heard that. I do not sleepwalk through life. Anyway.

This poor whale today. I hope when I'm old and ready to die, that I'm not a spectacle like him, wandering around Dana Harbor, separated from the migrating herd, left to drift and be ogled by masses of people. This morning, he wandered into the harbor, but the folks from the Ocean Institute coaxed him back to open water using sounds. They worried boats might run him over inside. Now, he just hovers near the jetty.

I gotta say it was pretty interesting to see a gray whale up close. Marine Biologists can tell it's old by the *ahem*--wait for it--whale lice. Ew. Yes. Whale Lice. And the barnacles. I've gotta say, it wasn't a pretty beast. As one little girl put it, "CREEPY!!!" Then again, I'm not sure which was more disgusting. The whale, or this man's feet. I won't disgust you further with a closeup. Trust me on this one.

People brought cameras and kids, and oohed and aaahhhed every time the whale came up for air and blew air out it's blow hole. Not a shabby assignment today. Gorgeous ocean views. Cool (a little too cool) ocean breezes. Amazing feats of nature. And a bird up in a tree that I swear sounded like a shrill little barking dog.

All in all a pretty good day, at least for me and for the spectators. Not so much for the whale. Although... maybe he's a showboat. Maybe he wants to go out a celebrity. Considering he's been on every station in every newscast today, I think he's done just that.

Happy journey, whale, wherever that next journey might be.

Pretty views and Pretty motorcycles

2010-05-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

Wanna see the view from my "office" today?

Not too shabby, eh? I'm not sure how I would handle being confined to a building all day. I love being out and about. While up at the "Top of the World" in Laguna Beach, I saw bunnies and hawks and pretty flowers and sparkly water...

...okay. You get what I'm sayin'. So why was I on "Top of the World" today? Because Laguna Beach is in a dead zone. In order to feed back our signal live, we have to have line of sight with a microwave tower, and since Laguna is surrounded by hills, that can't be done. The solution? Drive up the to "Top of the World" park. Complaining? Not me.

And why were we in Laguna? To interview a family member of one of the American hikers detained in Iran. (See Richard? Real news!) They've been actively campaigning to get Visas for the mothers of the three detainees so they can at least go see their kids, but have been continually denied. Finally today, the Iranian government said they will be issued, but the family is hesitant to believe. They've been told this before. Only when the Visas are in hand, will they allow themselves to get excited. If you're interested in reading more about their story, check out the website, www.freethe hikers.org.

Now I'm going to blather on about my weekend. Work has been stressful the last couple of weeks, so instead of doing what I should have done this weekend--like laundry and grocery shopping (who needs clean clothes and food?)--I instead chose to be completely self-indulgent and just have fun. Saturday I went riding with a friend, Shannon, who just got her motorcycle license and her first motorcycle, a Honda Rebel (well, kind of her first bike. She bought a Yamaha, but it had issues to the point of being unrideable, so our good pal Spider hooked her up with the Rebel). We did 100 miles through the canyons and around Orange County. She did great!! You'd never know she'd been on a bike only a handful of times. Go Shannon!

Sunday, I took the '67 CT 90 out for some exercise. Poor little thing doesn't get much road time with all the other bikes in the garage. I had SO much fun! Seriously! I don't know how many laps I did through Old Town Orange, blazing (okay, maybe not blazing) down street after street ogling the "downtown charmers" (old houses, in cheesy realtor talk). On about my bazillionth time rounding the traffic circle, people started to point and laugh. But we didn't give a rat's ass! We knew we were cool!

When I got back to the shop, my feller had taken the fairing and touring trunk off of MoJoe's old sidecar rig. I couldn't believe how much better it looked! So of course we had to take that out for a spin to make sure everything still functioned right. I swear, people on the streets can't help but smile when they see a sidecar rig. See? I bet you're smiling now!

Okay, okay. I'll stop blabbering on about motorcycles. But I'm a Motor Doll! What do you expect??

Oh! And speaking of Motor Doll stuff! Wednesday, I meet again with the yet-to-be-named all girl car club! And this weekend Mae (my '48 Ford), gets her newly-purchased front fenders! Maw and Paw are dragging the trailer here since I haven't been able to make it out to get them. Thanks Maw and Paw! Wanna read the full story on her face-lift? Go here. Woo hoo!! Maybe Mae will someday be back on the road again!

And now... it's time to eat dinner. Maybe it will dilute the caffeine in my system.

Later gators!

Never forget...

2010-05-02T22:14:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know. I've been seriously slackin' on the Blog front, but it's not as if I've been off counting dust motes. For one, I had some Motor Doll bloggin' to do over on the MD site, you know, motor-related stuff after a busy, super-fun-motor-weekend a while back. Don't believe me? Go check it out.

Plus, I've been workin' on the Winslow building (newly named the WINSLOW MOTOR PALACE). We went there last weekend for the first time as owners--scary, but oh so cool. We put together plans for our "motel room" in the mudroom/shanty off the main building. Sounds charming, eh? Really... it is. I just like the word shanty. And our contractor likes the word mudroom. It's an East-Coast thing. Anyway...

Of course, I could have sneaked in time to write about my daily news stories (what this blog is supposed to be about, right?) but frankly, couldn't get motivated. The stories haven't been at all inspiring. I did an entire week on the federal appliance rebate. All week, pictures of washers and dryers and refrigerators--oh my! Write about that? I don't think so.

And... oh yeah! My house was burglarized. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say knowing someone came into your home and took things you worked hard to buy, stinks. Most of the stuff they stole insurance will cover and can be replaced. One thing for me, though, can't.

For those of you who've read MOTOR DOLLS, you know Benny gets thrown for a loop when her camera gear is stolen, not because she can't go buy new ones, but because the memories evoked from each camera are irreplaceable. The camera stolen from me wasn't particularly sentimental, and because it's no longer made, I got an upgrade as a replacement (thanks, super-cool-and-mega-swell-Richard. See? I mentioned you in my blog. Happy now?). What really tweaked me was my camera strap. Yep. The strap.

When I was thirteen, I borrowed my dad's SLR to get some shots for a magazine put together by my AP English class. My subject? Arcosanti, an experimental town in the middle of the Arizona desert. I shot two rolls of black-and-white and fell in love with the process and how life looked through a viewfinder. Because I'd developed such a passion (and borrowed my dad's camera way too often) my parents bought me my own, a used Pentax K1000, with a "professional" looking camera strap, much like the one in the picture here. I felt so hip and cool with my bitchin' strap. A couple years after I got the camera, my brother's dog, Red, knocked over my tripod with the Pentax, splitting the body. The only thing salvagable was the strap.

Over the years, I moved that silly strap from camera to camera. It didn't feel like "my" camera unless it wore that strap. When I realized my camera had been taken in the burglary, my first thought was the strap. They stole a piece of my photographic history that can never be replaced.

How did I respond? I kinda took a time-out on life, which is why I haven't kept up on this blog. I felt zapped but couldn't completely explain why. Yes, work kept me insanely busy. Yes, I felt overloaded. Yes, the theft bummed me out. But totally checking out didn't fit me.

About a week after the theft (while doing yet another ridiculous appliance story) I met a very interesting man: A sixty-something out of work construction inspector living in a Hollywood Hills apartment. He'd taken advantage of the rebate program and was waiting for his new washing machine to be delivered--and we planned to be there to capture the moment. Of course, the delivery truck was late. Really late. In fact, we had to leave before it arrived in order to make our air slot. While waiting, we stood around and talked. He said he had a gift of seeing truth and gave us some examples that seemed pretty insightful, especially about the reporter I was working with. Somehow we got on the subject of the burglary, and I mentioned the strap. He looked me straight in the eye and said, "It wasn't the strap that was special. It was the way you felt about it. You still have those feelings."

Whoa. He was totally right. His advice?

"When you walk into the store to buy a new strap, transfer all of those emotions and memories into the new strap. Remember, the strap doesn't matter. What's in your head and heart does."

Here I'd been fretting about this silly thing for a week, and a few words from a stranger made me feel a bazillion times better. So you know what I did? I went on ebay and found an old strap like mine and bought it. When it arrives, I'll take his advice and transfer all of the youthful love and enthusiasm I felt the first time I slung my "professional" camera 'round my neck into the new one and create a whole new set of memories to add to it.

Mr. Hollywood Hills Man, I don't remember your name, but I will never forget your eyes or your words. Thank you.

There's no such thing as ugly or stupid... at least in motorcycles.

2010-04-12T18:15:00.000-07:00

So I popped into Coffee Bean for my daily fix of green tea and had an interesting conversation that led me to think about judgment in motorcycling.

The guy behind the counter looked totally hip in his clear Ray-Bans, shaved head, and tattoos. Super friendly guy. And a tea drinker, too. Anyway, so I was wearing my favorite Triumph t-shirt from Glory (great store with a vintage vibe, check it out), and the counter guy asked if I rode a Triumph. So I answered, “Yes!” He then asked if I had one of the new ones that looked old. Again, I answered, “Yes, an ’04, but I also have a ’77.” So we talked about the woes of kick-starting an old machine and he mentioned how much he’d like to get one of the new ones.Since he showed an interest in motorcycles, I, of course, asked if he rode.

That’s when it happened. Something I hate to see. He turned his eyes away, got uncomfortable, and answered that he had… a scooter. “Cool!” I said. “I love scooters. I’m in the market for an old Vespa.”

Then he got even more embarrassed. “Oh, yeah… well… I just have a Yamaha Vino.”

A Vino. Vintage inspired. Inexpensive. Nothing to be ashamed of, so why was he?

He should have been proud.

Because I always get excited talking bikes, I asked him a couple of questions, which got him talking and he totally lit up and told me about all the modifications he’d made and how fun it was. Just like that, he shifted from shame to enthusiasm. He wants to get a Bonnie someday, but an upcoming wedding and European honeymoon have priority right now. Point is, he’s a future motorcyclist. And that’s way cool.

Our conversation led me to think about judgment in general. There’s way too much of it in the world. Hell, I’m as guilty as the next Doll. But here’s the deal: scooter or motorcycle, the guy is riding. He’s young. He shares a passion. He’s in the game. Should he feel embarrassed or ashamed just because he’s still working toward his dream bike? Granted, we all have tastes and preferences. I like the old beasts that barely run, which is pretty stupid. If I had half a brain I wouldn’t mess with them (like my poor little ’66 Yamaha YM1). Some riders appreciate fancy paint jobs, or ape-hangers, or carbon fiber. Some don’t. Our motorcycles are an expression of personal style. Or, they’re a reflection of our current situation. Regardless. Riding is what it’s about.

So I have a goal and a challenge: to put aside personal bias and love the fact that someone else has found the passion--even if they pull up on a Pacific Coast with a chopper kit.

Angels and Gondolas

2010-04-07T08:59:00.000-07:00

When asked about my favorite element of being a photojournalist, the answer is easy. Getting to do all the things I do. How many people can say they've been hung out the back of a Chinook helicopter? Or gone inside top-secret government sites? Or met three presidents? The list goes on and on. I've had the opportunity to do so many amazing things in my career.

Like this week so far. Small things, but pretty cool.

MONDAY:

I have to admit. I don't follow baseball. I know, I know. It's the great all-American past time. But I've just never been a sports fan. Even so, it's still pretty fun to be down on the field with the players on opening day. There's an energy buzzing around as they come out for pre-game practice. It's hard not to get caught up in it.

Even the team manger, Mike Scioscia, waxed nostalgic about his favorite opening days both as a player and as a manager.

And wow! What an armada of Japanese media for new angel Hideki Matsui! 104 credentialed Japanese media compared to our usual twenty or so.

TUESDAY:

I got to ride in a Gondola. And I got paid to do it. In Long Beach, there's a lovely area called Naples featuring homes on a canal. It's a popular place for tourists and locals alike to kayak, and boat, or simply walk along the lovely paths lining the canals. And yes. There are gondola rides.

But the sea walls keeping the water and the homes separated is in serious need of repair. It was built as a '50 year wall,' 70 years ago, and after last Sunday's quake in Baja, experienced some damage. The fear now is that if a quake hits closer to home, the walls could crumble and put the homes in jeopardy. It's an expensive fix, though, and some Long Beach residents feel millions of dollars shouldn't be spent to repair "rich people's back yards." Instead, they'd like to see the money spent on fixing roads and other infrastructure.

It was an exceptionally beautifully day in Long Beach: Blue skies, lovely breeze, colorful and clear. I couldn't imagine being inside an office on a day like that--another great perk of the job. For all of the downsides, there are also a heck of a lot of benefits. I can truly say I've experienced the world.

Today? Who knows what today will bring. Every day is different. But even if it's a lousy story, I have to remember how much fun I had Monday and Tuesday, and balance the good with the bad.

Later gators!

Sometimes you've just gotta be a Motor Doll...

2010-04-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

A very wise feller had a talk with me this week about balance, something I've been struggling a lot with lately. I tend to dive into things full force when I'm on a mission, and neglect everything around me. Problem is right now, I have several things I'm diving full force into, in addition to a demanding job. I guess my facade started to crack, and he noticed.

So I listened to him.

What's the point of writing about a lifestyle if I'm not living it? On his advice, I put aside my many projects (or at least cut back), and went and had some fun. Thursday night, even though my brain kept reminding me of all the things I needed to do, I ignored the annoying voice in my head and went for a motorcycle ride, meeting up with two other Motor Dolls at a club meeting for a group of Triumph riders. And you know what? I had a blast being a Motor Doll again. It became very clear how much I've been neglecting what I love.

So I carried that feeling through the weekend.

Saturdays I usually go to the gym, clean house, then write for the rest of the day. Instead, I went to the gym, then hopped on my motorcycle and rode for a while, ending up at my favorite coffeehouse (one that doesn't have WiFi) and wrote a new opening chapter for my novel MOTOR DOLLS--or at least tried to in between conversations about motorcycles with guys coming and going from the place. It felt good to get out of my cave and write in a different environment. It felt great being on my Triumph and once again being a Motor Doll.

Saturday night, we rode out to a great restaurant in the canyons. Sunday we took the old Corvette out. And now Monday morning, I actually feel rested instead of stressed.

Nathan Brandsford, a literary agent who blogs, posted Ten Commandments for the Happy Writer. Sadly, I was seriously breaking three of them: Enjoy the Present, Don't Neglect Friends and Family, and Recognize the Forces that are Out of Your Control. Writing becomes an obsession, especially when you're balancing a few projects in various stages. Because of the current state of the publishing industry, debut authors are responsible for marketing, for getting themselves out there. That means maintaining a strong web presence and finding your fans. It's extremely time consuming. In addition to that, a writer still needs to write. And when you're working twelve hour days, it becomes incredibly difficult to fit all of that in, plus still be a good wife and friend and maintain the basics like paying bills and buying groceries. And oh yeah. Having fun.

(Lady Luck, Kitty Kat, and Nate from BA Moto)

Thanks Feller, for recalibrating me and putting things in perspective. You're super swell.

The news week in summary

2010-04-02T12:42:00.001-07:00

Mommy reprimanded me for not updated my blogs, so here I am. It’s been a busy week.

Let’s see… Monday. Hmmm. I don’t remember Monday. I had a migraine and the whole day is sort of a blur. I’m sure we covered a news story, I just don’t remember what. Sad, huh?

Tuesday. Ah… the Alcala sentencing. This is the case I blogged about a while back. He was given the death sentence for the third time, but because all death sentences can be appealed, I’m sure he’ll appeal just as he did the last two times. The sadist will probably out live us all. More details came out in this case regarding how the women died. The man truly is the devil.

Wednesday. Here’s a provocative one. Gay Jesus. Told you it was provocative. There’s a play written by Terrance McNally called CORPUS CHRISTI. It’s the retelling of the Jesus story, with Jesus as a gay man living in 1950s Corpus Christi, and is obviously, very controversial—especially this particular performance taking place Easter Sunday at a progressive Christian church. I won’t pass judgment one way or another on the topic. But I do want to talk about judgment of a different kind. Right before our live shot outside the church, a man came up and said to be sure to point out that the church isn’t a Christian church. Oh, but it is. They consider themselves Christian. We can’t contradict that in our story and say they’re not. When my reporter explained this to him, he got angry because it’s not HIS idea of Christianity.

Immediately after our live shot, I noticed a woman standing near our truck scowling. The second we wrapped, she stomped up to us and said, “I can’t believe you’re exploiting this.” Then she went on to criticize our story for being one-sided. Our story was most certainly NOT one-sided. We talked to people on both sides of the issue. When we asked her what she thought of the sound bytes from the Faith Coalition and from the two college students opposed to it, she admitted she didn’t watch our whole story, that the moment she saw what our story was about, she rushed out of the house to our location to give her opinion. So she passed judgment without even knowing the facts. She walked away saying she had no respect for us as individuals.

It’s one of the weird things about working in this field. As an office worker, it’s doubtful you’ll have people walk into your workspace and personally attack you—something I get on a pretty regular basis. Another example: If we cover a Republican event (like the McCain/Palin event I just cover), they blast the liberal media and we get booed. Covering Democratic events, they refer to us as right wing conspirators and we get booed. We can’t be both, people! We try our best to be neutral, and for that neutrality, get blasted. Granted, there are definitely journalists with a slant. But that’s not the spirit of our profession.

THURSDAY: An arrest on a kidnapping plot.
FRIDAY: The economic effect on large churches and their Easter celebrations

Okay. I’ve rambled enough. Clearly, you can see what story got to me this week. As journalists, are we supposed to steer clear of controversial issues? Or explore them? If we lean to one side or the other, we’d be biased, right?

I’ll shut up now.

Later gators!

Home Again, Home Again!

2010-03-28T20:51:00.000-07:00

(A disclaimer: I'm sleep deprived, so don't expect clever writing, proper spelling, or fascinating tales.)

I've finally wandered back to Southern California after my time on the road.

Friday we covered the McCain/Palin event in Tucson. The day started with a six a.m. live shot--and it was cold (45 degrees)! Who would've expected Tucson to be cold! Thankfully, my pal Allen (a photographer for the Today show) loaned me a jacket. Thanks, Allen!

The event started around 12:30. Most of the 1000 guests told us they mainly came to see Sarah Palin--and she didn't disappoint the crowd. But I won't discuss politics here. I'm all about the behind the scenes, right? Other than clueless reporters stepping on and off our platform during the event (shaking the platform, thus making the shot shake) the event went nice and smooth.

By the time we did our liveshot at five o'clock. most everyone had already gone. Five minutes until air, one of the deconstruction crew comes over and tells me they need to take the platform down. He said he'd wait until after our shots, but the guys actually started taking it down around us. Yikes! With only a half an hour to get ready for the six, I had move everything off, quickly slam together (edit) our 6 o'clock piece, and reset the shot. Run! Run! Run! Weirdly, I kinda enjoy the pressure. I know, I know. That's messed up, right?

The downside of the day? The lack of food and sleep. The night before, we got to squeeze in three hours sleep before getting up for the early show. Once we got to the fairgrounds where the event took place, we were locked down for the day, and there was no food anywhere to be found! Luckily I carry Cliff Bars in my bag. It's weird though. When you're working and have deadlines to meet, the hunger and fatigue move to the backseat. It's not until later you start to crash. Around seven thirty, we finally got a bite to eat, then shot our piece for the 11pm. To bed by midnight. Yay!

From there, instead of heading back to SoCal, I took a little detour to Phoenix to spend the day with my family. My pretty mommy and I went to a wedding.

I watched my twin nieces ride horses.

Saw all the cool things my nephew builds.

Met their cool tree frog "Gummy" (aptly named since everything sticks to him). They also had several hamsters and dogs. They love critters. Reckon it runs in the family.

Visited my 91-year-old "Nannie."

Of course got the best daddy hug in the world. All in all, a fine day trip on the way back home.

Thanks for indulging my family photos. Tomorrow, back to work! And now... it's time to SLEEP. Ah... sleep. How I've missed you.

In Tucson on Assignment

2010-03-25T19:30:00.000-07:00

Back in the day, I used to travel a lot for work, all over the world, but these days with budget cuts, we don't get on the road as much, instead, letting affiliates pick up the shoots.

I like traveling for work. Sort of. It was a lot easier pre-911 considering how much gear we travel with, but I've gotten pretty darned good at juggling it all while navigating airports. Generally, I travel alone with the gear since I like flying out of a smaller regional airport near my home rather than braving LAX. The challenge is trying to move the five-to-ten cases of gear (depending on the assignment) without letting it out of my sight. Sky-caps are great, especially my guys at John Wayne Airport. They make it so much easier.

I'm in Tuscon on assignment for the next couple of days to cover John McCain and Sarah Palin, together again to try and draw the conservative base back to McCain.

Travel was a breeze today. Everything went according to plan. I got the gear on flight ($400 in excess baggage!), got it off the flight, into a rental car, and to the hotel. Now comes the tough part. The day started when I headed to the airport about ten a.m. and arrived in Tucson about four. We go live tonight at eleven, have to come back to the hotel, sleep for about four hours, and get up to do two hits for our morning show (six and six thirty a.m.). And that's all before we've even covered the event!

Around noon, we shoot the campaign event, write and edit our stories for five and six, do the live shots for five and six. Whew. Done?

Maybe. There's a chance we'll have to go again for the 11p.m. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we don't. So yeah... travel assignments are exhausting. We work our butts off. But it's a nice change of pace.

And look! My pillow wishes me goodnight! Sadly, I won't see the pillow again until after midnight.

Until tomorrow...

Later gators

How to Convince People to get Naked

2010-03-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

I knew that title would get you!

But hey! That's what I had to do today. Convince a girl to get naked. In front of a camera. For TV.

One benefit of being a female television photojournalist is that there aren't a lot of us out there, and in certain situations a girl cameraman is a heck of a lot more appropriate. Like for breast cancer stories. Or stories that are highly emotional.

Or stories at tanning salons.

Yep. That's where I had to ask a girl to get nekked. But I swear! There was a news hook!

Part of the new health care package passed by congress includes a 10% tax on tanning beds--kind of a "sin" tax on something potentially not good for you, like the cigarette tax, and a way for the government to (partially) fund the new health care plan.

But how do you visually tell a story about tanning beds without seeing someone in a tanning bed? And what do people wear in tanning beds? NOTHING!

In comes the female photographer benefit. Had I been a dude asking to enter the room while a girl tanned, I'd probably have been kicked in the nether regions. Granted, the first three we asked said, "Hell no!"

Then I saw my target. A super fit young girl who looked insanely confident in her body. So we asked. Her eyes got big. She hesitated. Then she shrugged and said, "Why not?"

Granted, when we got into the room and I ran the scene through my head I realized I wouldn't be able to get anything but tight shots if she was, well, nekked. So we compromised on her sports bra and panties.

So where are the pictures you ask? Come on! It's one thing to show a moving image on TV, quite another to put a still up to be analyzed. The girl didn't agree to that! (Sorry Sir Venator!)

So. Would you get naked for a TV camera?

I know my answer.

I'm grinnin' for no good reason

2010-03-23T21:20:00.000-07:00

Remember a couple of days ago when I posted about finding your happy?

Well today, my news story... no. I'm not going to tell you. I'll just tell you today's assignment had something to do with one of my blog posts last week about someone with the initials "O.M." Got it?

Anyway. So it was a hectic, up to the deadline kind of day and I was rushing around, shooting, editing, getting us ready for air, shot a quick, last minute interview, edited it down... rush, rush, rush... break down the shot, pack it all up, wanna get out of there and take a shower after our story.... ew... and then this:

I screeched to a halt on the sidewalk. There, amongst the blades of grass, this pretty little flower! It was the size of a clover, so small, it could easily be missed in the sea of green. A little bitty... what is that? A pansy? Whatever it was, it was so insanely cute I had to grab a picture.

Seeing this happy little thing made me smile like an idiot. It made me forget my truck's transmission's death that morning. Forget I was wasting yet another day at O.M.'s house. Forget I didn't make the quarterfinal round of the Amazon novel contest. None of it matter. I had this pretty little flower staring up at me.

Oh man! Forget... Was it a forget-me-not?? I totally don't know my flowers. Anyone?

So hey! Did anything make you smile today? If so, share!

The Jobless Redhead Gets A Job!!

2010-03-22T18:18:00.000-07:00

Don't you love happy endings?

Last month, I covered a story about a "Jobless Redhead" who found an inventive way to search for a job. Check out my blog post from February.

Way too often, we (the media) don't follow up on stories, which is sad. One day a person is top of the newscast, the next forgotten. In this case, my reporter kept in touch with Michael, and yesterday he texted that he'd found employment through his efforts. By standing on the corner with a sign directing people to his resume (posted at joblessredhead.com), he got over a thousand email responses, many interviews, and several offers. The one he accepted?

A marketing job for an oral surgeon. He'll visit dentist offices--both ones with established relationships and those without--and build relationships for referrals. It's a great job for him. The guy is personable. He's smart. He's creative. No doubt he'll do very well.

So what's he going to do with his Jobless Redhead website? Maybe rent it out to another unemployed redhead, he says. Now that's thinkin'!

Is this news? Or is this gossip?

2010-03-20T10:38:00.000-07:00

I have a question for you, and I want you to answer honestly. Not how you think you should answer, but an honest to goodness from your gut answer. Ready?

Okay.

Are you interested in the Octomom? Is her life news?

Stop laughing. I'm asking you seriously. I know you think you should say no, but look deep. Are you curious?

Here's why I ask. My assignment yesterday was to stake out Octomom's house. I was mortified. That's what TMZ is for, right? I'm legitimate news! I work for the Peacock for goodness sakes! We don't cover gossip!

But is it gossip?

Here's what I found: Whenever I'd tell someone what my assignment was yesterday, the first thing they'd ask was, "Oh! What's going on with Octomom??" So clearly most people want to know, just like I'm sure you kind of want to know even though you might not admit it. (Or maybe you already know.)

I'm quite torn on the issue. My gut says, no, it's not news. But what is news? Is it simply what people are talking about? What they want to know? Or does it need to have some value?

My thought is, if we didn't offer up trash, the world wouldn't know. Would you feel any less informed not knowing the status of the Octomom?

Give me your opinion. Be completely honest.

Are you curious?

If so, read on and answer my question on whether this matters enough to be part of a news cast:

When Nadya Suleman (Octomom) bought her LaHabra house last year, she couldn't get financing (she's unemployed and has no source of income other than welfare). The owner of the house struck a deal with Nadya and her father. She would pay $4100 a month for a year, and at the end of that year, she'd have a balloon payment of $450,000. It's now been a year. She missed her last $4100 payment, and has not paid the $450,000 balloon payment and will be evicted on Tuesday if she doesn't come up with the money.

Okay. Your thoughts?

How to be Happy

2010-03-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

Monday, I had a pretty rotten day, mostly from a mistake I made at work. I had a tough time not dwelling on it. But my brain came to the rescue during the night. Sometime just around dawn, I dreamt of puppies and kittens. Adorable little Dachshunds and even a blue Tartan cat (yes, I mean tartan like Scotsman tartan). I really, really love critters. And because of their dreamland visit, I woke up happy (even though it was an earthquake that woke me up).

I've mentioned how covering news can sometimes be a challenge on the emotional front. When you layer on technical issues and indecisive producers, it can do a doozie on your head. Yes, it's been on of those kind of weeks so far (which is why I haven't kept up on the daily blog front), but I refuse to let it get me down.

So what's the best way to pull out of it? Let's contemplate with the help of Google:

-- Eating a whole bunch of cake. Yes, it might provide a momentary slice of happiness, but would only make me sadder in the long run, right? Okay. So no cake. :(

-- Ha ha! Okay. So I entered "ways to get happy," and on a Reader's Digest list I found this: 10. Tune out the news. For one week go without reading the newspaper, watching the news, or scanning the headlines online. Instead, take a vacation from the misery we're exposed to every day via the media and use that time for a walk, a meditation session, or to write in your journal.-- Oh dear. I'm in big, big trouble. So I can't tune out the news considering it's what I do for a living, but I reckon I could make sure to get my daily walk. I've been slackin' lately. So there's one to add to the list. Good. Next...

-- Years ago, Oprah suggested to keep a journal of happy things. She called it something I can't remember (gratitude journal?), but I loved the concept and still try to apply it every day (even though I don't always write it down). Like today, while parked near a jogging trail to report on sexual predators (ew!), I saw this really adorable squirrel dash across the grass. He was so doggoned cute! A really nice little nugget. (The joy, not the squirrel. I wouldn't eat a squirrel, even though I am from hillbilly genes.)

-- Save someone's life. Seriously. I found that in my Google search. Ummm... well. I don't think I can just-like-that save someone's life, but, uh... I'll keep that in mind. Next?

-- Act happy. Fake it 'til you feel it. YES. Now that fits perfectly with my philosophy.
I'm a big believer in happiness being a state of mind. You can either dwell in the dark, or bring yourself back to the light. Several years ago, I got laid off from my job with a film company because of a merger. I was devastated. I moped. I ate donuts. And then I read The Power of Positive Thinking. I know it sounds hokey, but that book seriously changed my life. An absolute keeper!

-- This one's going to sound silly, but BREATHE. It's a Yoga thing, and Yoga makes me happy. So often, we forget to breathe deeply. We take shallow breaths all day long, starving our body when what it really needs is a big old snootful of air. Go on. Try it now. I will too. Maybe it will erase the bad day. Wow! I feel SOOO much better already!!!

-- I found quite a few lists suggesting singing. And yes, while singing does make me feel good, it makes those around me feel really, really bad. I mean, I'm the girl who got kicked out of choir. Whose boyfriend musician booted me from the background vocals on a song because I was THAT BAD. For the sake of the world, I'm going to skip the singing--at least in populated places.

-- Losing yourself in a great book. Now we're talking! There's nothing like getting completely absorbed in another world to make the negativism melt away. The written word is such a precious gift. If I don't have a book in progress, I feel lost. Yes. Reading is a sure-fire road to happiness.

So my top five:

1. Take a Daily Walk and enjoy the beauty of the fresh air.
2. Find the little things every day that make you smile and hold onto them.
3. Act happy even if you feel miserable, and soon you'll forget you're bummed.
4. Breathe all the way into your chest several times a day.
5. Read. Read. Read.

What are your favorite ways to get happy and stay positive? Drop a comment and share your tips!

And now... I'm off for a relaxing walk to look for the little things, all the while smiling and breathing and reading a book. Okay. So maybe I won't read while walking. That might get dangerous. I'll read in the bathtub when I get back.

Later gators!

Carlos the Seven-Year-Old Hero

2010-03-10T21:34:00.000-08:00

Finally, a feel good story after a couple of weeks of covering tragedy. Our story today could have been another bad, bad situation had seven year old Carlos not been so brave, hiding in the bathroom and calling 911 during a home invasion robbery.

First, click on the link below and watch the story. Pictures speak louder than words in this case.

Watch the video here.

Cool kid, huh?

Impressive, right from the start. He walked into the room packed full of media with only the slightest look of nerves. After meeting the dispatcher who'd walked him through the call, the deputy picked him up and put him on a chair to reach the microphones. While the deputy was introducing him, I noticed the boy's mouth moving. What the heck? I thought. So I looked closer. He was silently counting the cameras, "...thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..." and there were a lot of cameras, as you can see.

Carlos worked the crowd. He had us laughing and smiling. He engaged us with his eyes, looking directly at those who asked the questions, scanning the room and the cameras. So often kids--even ones who want to be on TV "more than anything in the world!"--get nervous once the big camera is pointed their way and totally clam up. Not Carlos. What a kid!

Feeling good at the end of the day is all too rare in the news biz, but thanks to Carlos and his last, "that was my sister!" (referring to the screaming heard at the end of the 911 tape) he had me not just feeling good, but grinning like a fool.

Thanks, Carlos, for making it a swell day!

Amber DuBois

2010-03-09T14:55:00.000-08:00

On tough news days, like today, getting one of those little life moments that make you smile is really a gift.

I’m in San Diego again covering the continuing John Gardner case, the sex offender accused of killing Chelsea King and now suspected of killing Amber DuBois whose remains were found on Saturday. Downtown San Diego is filled with homeless people, most of them not quite all there. This morning, while walking from our news van to the courthouse—totally sleep deprived and emotionally exhausted—a homeless man sitting against a building says to me, “I like your outfit.” It instantly took me out of the moment and made me smile. Here this man, who is holding a sign for money, who is missing most of his teeth, and who has the sun and alcohol reddened face of the homeless, put a much needed smile on my face. I wish I’d have had something to give him. Since I didn’t, I gave him a smile and a thank you instead of walking past as if I hadn’t heard. Probably not what he wanted, but the best I could do.

The toughest part of blogging about my profession is that generally it will be bad news. I could say it’s what we’ve become, but really, it’s what we’ve always been: The bearers of bad news.

So I contemplated skipping this entry, skipping the very sad story of another group of pained mourners. Last night we covered our second candlelight vigil for a dead teen in a week, this time, for fourteen-year-old Amber DuBois, probably killed by the same murdering sex-offender who killed Chelsea King, last week’s murdered girl. Another double shift filled with sadness. I had to keep telling myself, “Just get through the day.” And I did, through the 5pm newscast, the 6, and the 11. Part of why I contemplated skipping the entry is because I feel selfish for talking about the affect on me because who am I to talk? I’m merely covering the story. I didn’t know either girl. I’m not family. How must they feel?

Today we stepped away from the sadness a bit, just like the parents of both murdered girls are doing. They all want action. They want laws changed. Gardner never should have been free to commit these crimes. Our coverage focused on John Gardner, the accused killer, and where the gaps in the system failed Amber and Chelsea.

He was in court this morning for a status hearing, and we were there. I watched him. His eyes never stopped moving and he rarely looked up. But he doesn’t look like someone you would peg as a murdering sex-offender. He looks like a guy you’d drink a beer with. Or see on a construction site—proving there is no profile, no standard. If this guy approached me, my hackles wouldn’t go up. And that’s bad. Sadly, giving your trust can sometimes be fatal.

But I also know, I still will. I won't be stupid, or at least I'll try not to, but I'm not going to stop giving a smile to a stranger for paying me a compliment.

Oh, how I love Tim Burton....

2010-03-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

I've figured it out. It has to be the hair. Yeah...

We just got back from watching Alice in Wonderland in 3D.

I LOVED THIS MOVIE.

I mean, really, really loved it. But then, I love everything Tim Burton does. I think it's because of the hair. You know, the crazy, wild mop of black. Could it perhaps stem from my passion for The Cure? Robert Smith and Tim Burton have some scary similarities, right?

But it goes beyond just Tim Burton. It's the trio, really, that works for me: Burton, Depp, and Elfman. I was a huge 21 Jump Street fan, and Oingo Boingo. Loved them. So it's only natural I adore Burton's films, right?

And of course Richard Zanuck pictured next to Johnny, who has produced all of Burton's film over the last few years.

My love of Burton started with Pee Wee's Big Adventure. How fun was that? And then Beetlejuice. I fell madly in love with Beetlejuice. I couldn't tell you how many times I've seen that film. Edward Scissorhands. Ed Wood. Big Fish. Love, love, love them.

So what is it about his films that gets to me? For one, there's a timelessness to them. Like in Edward Scissorhands. The neighborhood seems straight out of the 50s, but then there are modern appliances. You can't place the time frame. And of course the stunning visuals. The surrealness. The MOOD created in his films. He always pulls me out of my reality and into his; just what I want a film to do.

(Hmmm... there goes that Robert Smith thing again.)

Critics may not be in love with Burton's version of Alice, but I am. The story moves. It's visually stunning (especially in 3D although my feller disagrees and wants to see it in 2D). The casting is fantastic. And it stays true to Lewis Carroll while still giving a fresh interpretation. I've never heard a theater full of kids remain so quiet through the entire film. They were captivated just as I was.

Only one scene in the film stood out as a bit of a clunker: The dance scene near the end. The music was wrong. The moves clearly special effects. It didn't work for me. But that's it. The rest swept me away.

Keep doing what you're doing, Mr. Burton, and I'll be your fan forever.

A tough assignment

2010-03-03T09:30:00.000-08:00

As a photojournalist, you get tossed into the heart of a lot of very difficult situations. All this week, I've been covering the case of missing seventeen-year-old Chelsea King.

Thursday, she went for a run at a Rancho San Bernardo park on a jogging trail that encircles Lake Hodges, and disappeared. Her car was left in the parking lot with her cell phone and bag. When she didn't come home, her dad went looking for her and found her car. Sunday, police arrested John Gardner, a registered sex offender, after finding an article of Chelsea's clothes with his DNA on it. This isn't the first time for Gardner. The guy shouldn't be free to stalk young women. Our system is seriously broken.

I have a tough time with assignments like this, one, because it's obviously emotionally tough, but two, because I'm not fond of putting a camera in people's faces when they're grieving. Late in the day, they found Chelsea's body, but even so, her parents showed up at the planned vigil to thank the thousands of people who had helped search for her. The media, of course, swarmed them. Me included. I'm never proud of that moment. I think it's vile. My reporter justified it this way: the family has been very open with the media from the beginning. They knew media would be at this event. For them, it was expected, and a way to get their message out to all watching. And she had a point.

We lead such a weird life. I looked behind me last night, and for as far as I could see, reporters and cameras lined the yellow tape doing hits for the six o'clock news. What is it about human beings that we need to hear news like this? I'm not suggesting we live in a bubble, and yes, by getting news like this out there perhaps laws will be changed regarding sex offenders like John Gardner, but... I don't know. The energy behind the story disturbed me a bit. Our piece last night was lovely. Candlelight makes for very pretty pictures, especially on the emotional faces of the attendees. But the guilt part of me kicked in, as it always does. Is it right to exploit grief?

Or are we simply honoring the life of a loved and respected young lady? Some family's shun the media during these situations, others open themselves up. I don't quite understand the motivation, and I suppose, should accept that it is their choice. I'm a private mourner. I don't like for even those close to me to know when I'm hurt, so I guess I can't relate, and that's why I get agitated by our invasion of a griever's privacy. But maybe for some it provides comfort to know the world will learn a little bit more about their loved one.

Today we head to court for John Gardner's arraignment. With her body found, they will be able to charge him with rape and murder. I hope the man never sees the light of day again.

And now... it's time to go.

My Other Life

2010-02-27T19:58:00.000-08:00

Photojournalist by week. Writer by weekend, although right now I'm focused more on putting together a marketing strategy for my novel MOTOR DOLLS (website www.motordolls.com). I've learned a lot over the last couple of weeks about creating a viral presence on the web. Publishing houses are going through tons of changes, especially for the debut author, and getting the book out there now falls primarily on the author's shoulders. I want to be prepared. Premature? Maybe. But I'd rather have everything in place so I'm not scrambling when it happens.

January, I parted ways with my agent, and now that I'm free of that contract, I'm forging full speed ahead toward publishing. I have two agents currently reading, and have entered the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, making the first cut from 10,000 novels to 2000 novels. I'm also checking into smaller publishing houses and other options, like e-publishing and self publishing. The world is changing, both in the news world and in the writing world, and I want to roll with those changes rather than cling to dying standards.

Every option will be explored. And now... I'm off to write.

Can you say EW?

2010-02-25T21:17:00.000-08:00

Did you know in California we have wild parrots? Tons of them. They come out at sunset everyday in certain parts of Orange County, in giant flocks, sounding their trademark screech. Today while setting up my liveshot, it actually startled me. I looked up to a blacked out sky from the birds flying overhead. Bizarre. No one knows how they ended up here, although there a lot of urban myths. (http://www.ocregister.com/news/parrots-30083-birds-wild.html).

COURTESY OF AMAZORNIA.US

Speaking of bizarre... Remember my long day yesterday? It went Twilight Zone on the drive home. Here's the scene: I'm in a giant news van with a huge peacock on the side--kind of impossible to be incognito. It's about one in the morning. I'm on the freeway. This SUV full of drunks comes up beside me. It started innocently enough with them flipping me the bird (and no, not a parrot). No big deal. It happens. I've learned to ignore it. Then they mooned me. Yep. Whatever. I've seen butts. Oh. And then they turned around... Let's just say I saw entirely too much stranger anatomy--and not just from boys. A girl too. When one of them put his butt out the window, and, uh... defacated... that's when I called CHP.

So when you see a news van, wave and smile. We're actually pretty swell people! No need to S**T on us! Ew?!!! Who does that??

In the news realm, we covered the verdict on a 30 year old serial murderer case. He's been convicted three times, but keeps appealing, putting the families through hell.

Once again, he was found guilty of all charges, but the family of Robin Samsoe, twelve years old when she was murdered, has a hard time finding solace in that considering Alcala keeps appealing. As they said, it's like burying Robin all over again every time they go through this.

When covering a big case like this, it's too disruptive to let every media outlet into the courtroom, so we use what's termed a "pool camera"--one camera shoots and feeds out to everyone else. The scene in the hall of the eleventh floor was nuts, full of cameras and tripods and recording decks. Most courthouses have restrictions on where we can photograph, otherwise I would have snapped a shot of the pandemonium.

From there, we rushed down to the second floor--the only place in the courthouse where we're allowed to do interviews--and set up a mic stand so the family could make their comments. Pictured here is DA Matt Murphy giving his statement. If you look behind the woman in the white blouse, grey vest, and black flower (my reporter) you'll see the top of my head. For the most part, we try to keep things civilized (like this), leaving a good pad of space between our mic stand and the cameras. Of course, it doesn't always happen this way.

Next, this case goes to the penalty phase, and I'm sure we'll be back to cover it. (A link to our news story. About halfway down, you'll see the video link: http://www.nbclosangeles.com/news/local-beat/Verdict-Rodney-Alcala-Trial-85385252.html)

So what's on tap for tomorrow? I have absolutely no idea. It's the best part of this job, never knowing where I'll be, who I'll be meeting, and what I'll be learning about. It's endlessly interesting.

Until tomorrow...

A rewrite of yesterday's blog....

2010-02-24T23:33:00.000-08:00

I'm afraid I came off a bit angry and negative yesterday--not my point. So consider this a do-over.

Some days, life as a photojournalist can get pretty challenging. It's not like I go into an office, punch the clock, have lunch at noon, and go home when the quittin' bell rings at the end of the day. When news happens, we need to be there to cover it, regardless of the time or circumstance. It's part of the excitement of doing what I do.

Like today.

I'm working my second double this week. I'm starting with a sleep deficit, have a headache, and am two and half hours from home. Our live shot isn't until after the Olympics at 11:30 pm, and we also have to do a hit for San Francisco. Then, I have to break down the shot, put the gear away, and drive the two and half hours back to the OC. So I'm guessing I won't get home until about 2:30 am, and then be up all bright and shiny the next morning (or rather, later that morning) to report for duty. Not an easy deal.

You say (if you read yesterday's blog!), "But I thought you were doing a story about water bottles?" Yeah. That's how the day started off. We had the story three-quarters of the way shot. We had fun with it.

And then, the dreaded phone call: "We're changing your story."

Sadly, a female whale trainer at Sea World Orlando was killed by a whale. What does that have to do with Los Angeles news? we asked. There's a Sea World in San Diego. So we had to drop our water bottle story (sales are down, did you know?) and head south. SD Sea World planned to close all of their Orca shows until further notice.

Mind you, it was one o'clock, and our newscast comes on at five. It would take us two hours to get there.

Our angle on the story was to find tourists who were in the San Diego park when

they closed the Shamu show. Luckily, we found a family visiting from Wisconsin who went to Sea World just to see the killer whales. While standing in line to get in, the announcement was made, and they didn't get to see the show. We ran across this family just as we parked at a nearby seaside amusement park--which helped immensely with our time crunch. Sometimes it's challenging to find people relevant to the story. Not today.

Next, we chose our live spot (Sea World wouldn't
let us onto their property), the reporter wrote the story, I edited the story, set up the live shot.... all the while with the clock ticking ever closer to four-thirty--our deadline for the five..

But we did it. As we always do.
A hit at 5. A hit at 6.

And then the phone call...

"We need you to stay and do a hit for the post-Olympic show at 11:30pm." Oy. I wanted to say, "Hell no!" but I didn't. This is my job. And even with the challenges, I love what I do.

In this line of work, you've got to keep things in perspective. It sucks working a double shift. It sucks having to make the drive home afterward. It's really going to suck getting up tomorrow morning. But I'm still alive. Unlike Dawn Brancheau, I will go home. She went into work this morning with no idea it would be her last.

So really... who am I to complain about working a double shift? Would I want to be doing anything else? No.

Until tomorrow....

Check out this guy...

2010-02-24T11:25:00.000-08:00

My news assignment yesterday. Talk about genius marketing. Michael Williams, twenty-eight years old, found himself unemployed, but instead of kicking back on the couch with government cheese, he took his future to the streets. Literally.

He gets up in the morning, puts on his suit, and takes a sign to a busy street corner in Irvine. What does it
say? SEE MY RESUME. All day, he stands there, holding his sign, trying to drive people to his website, www.joblessredhead.com. And you know what?
It's working.

He's a good looking guy, very well spoken, and driven. To do what? He's not really sure, but he knows what he doesn't want to do: 100% commissioned sales. He likes to be challenged. He likes marketing. Ideally, he'd like to work with youth ministry since his master's degree is in Youth and Family Ministries. He simply wants someone to give him a chance.

People smile at him. Give him thumbs up. Wave at him. He's had over 2000 hits on his website

and a few interviews, but still hasn't been offered the right opportunity.

If you want to read more about him, go check out his

website. In case you didn't get it, it's www.joblessredhead.com.

These are the days I seriously love my job. Shooting the story was a blast, it was fun to edit, and I made contact with a really terrific human being--the best part about being a photojournalist.This story had its challenges too. All of the b-roll (the video to cover the reporter's words) was of one thing: Him holding a sign. It took a lot of creative angles to make it work, a lot of tight shots to sequence. The end product? Something I was very proud of. And the producers liked it to! Used it in two shows instead of the usual one.

It was a good day.

Today's assignment? Water bottles. They're on the decline.

Until tomorrow,

Later gators.

Standing on a Corner...

2010-02-22T07:43:00.000-08:00

...in Winslow Arizona!

Funny how song lyrics can make a town famous.

My best feller has this fantasy about packing it in from the big city (Los Angeles area) and moving to a small town in the middle of nowhere, so this week--for his birthday--we trekked to Winslow, Arizona, made famous by the Eagles song, and you know what? I actually liked it.

Besides being a historic Route 66 town, it has an interesting art and architecture scene.

The people were fantastic throughout town, especially at The La Posada Hotel. What a phenomenal place. I mean, seriously, seriously cool stuff. Go to the linked website and check it out. What the owner did to bring it back from the brink is unbelievable.

Birthday boy Brian at the
entrance to La Posada with
his friend the camel.

Live guitar music
at La Posada. I could
have sat all night and
listened.

We fell in love with a building.
And hey! It’s for sale!

But here’s the deal. Winslow is
about population 10,000. Small.
Really small. I’ve lived in big cities
for most of my life. Could I handle such
an extreme change? I’m pondering.

Especially after going
from this gorgeous
desert sunset...

...to this hideous LA traffic.

Who knows? Maybe I could be right at home in Winslow. Just hole up, and write.

Day Twelve--Pioneertown, CA to HOME in The OC

2009-08-01T09:29:00.000-07:00

We weren’t ready for it to end, but until a bucket of money drops onto our heads, I reckon all vacations must have a last day. So we headed out of beautiful Pioneertown toward home. From Pioneertown to the I-10, life was good.

Then it went downhill.

The closer we got to LA, the worse it got. Bad roads, horrible traffic, the smog… wow. You forget about the smog when you’re living in it. When you come back, the thick layer hanging over the basin becomes that much more obvious and disgusting.

But I refuse to end this trip on a negative, so I'll point out the positives.

Ummm… let's see... something good, something good… Oh! The weather got cooler the closer we got to home.

We reunited with The World’s Worst Cat, Zoe. She missed us and loves us. I can tell.

I would say it was nice to sleep in our own bed, but we seriously need a new mattress. The hotel beds were much more comfortable.

Overall, we went 2400 miles, saw six states (… kind of. New Mexico we didn’t actually ride through, but I did put my hand in it at Four Corners.) The terrain changes throughout each day amazed me, how within the course of a couple of hours, things could shift from mountains and pines, to dry flat desert. The rock formations through Utah were astounding. The beauty of Colorado with its rivers and trees, overwhelming. Best of all, I’m glad to see there are still small towns that haven’t been overrun with strip malls, chain restaurants, and Wal-Marts. We met the nicest people along the way. Not a bad day in the bunch. It truly was the perfect trip.

Next year, we’ll ride to Nashville. I can’t wait.

For a final portrait of the two of us, I set the camera on self-timer in front of our Pioneertown room. You’ve gotta love self-timers. Here are a couple of the initial attempts trying to get the timing right.

Finally, we got a nice one.

Forgive me, I’m going to wax poetic for a bit. We’re back home now, and I’m feeling a bit sad. There’s something incredibly invigorating about being on a motorcycle for so many consecutive days. As my feller put it, “Somehow it feels important…” although we both know it’s not. All the clichés are true. The feeling of freedom. The wind in your face. The independence of being just you, the machine, and the road. It’s the kind of vacation where you get in touch with yourself and what you want out of life.

Thanks so much to everyone following our blogs. Sharing the experience with friends made it even more fun, and forced us to sit down at the end of the day and chronicle our experiences. Already, I’m having fun re-reading the adventure.

So until next year...

Later gators.

Day Eleven--Flagstaff, AZ to a very cool destination

2009-07-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

Howdy! Sorry to disappoint you (mom) by not having our blogs posted last night, but we were out in the middle of nowhere—no phone connection, no wi-fi at the motel. Now, (sadly) we're back in civilization, so here it is, the eagerly anticipated Day 11 Blog!

I’ve gotta tell ya… my feller is brilliant. We left Flagstaff yesterday morning with the intention of either driving through to Barstow for the night, or making a bonsai run all the way home. My feller, however, came up with a much better plan, the perfect way to end our great motorcycle adventure.

But first… a recap of the day.

I didn’t expect the first half of the ride to be so great. For the first hour or so, we remained in the pines, the weather stellar, the road smooth, the smells...well... I tell ya, the most neglected sense in a car is smell. With the windows rolled up and the a/c blasting, the outdoor smells become non-existent. On a motorcycle, you smell everything—the sun on the asphalt, the pine, fresh cut hay, roadkill—and best of all, the port-a-potty truck that pulled in front of us just outside of Ash Fork. Mmmm… so fragrant. Fortunately, he was moving fast. I reckon he had someplace to go.

We passed lots of bikes heading east, probably on their way to Sturgis. Pretty cool to see them on the road and give them a happy little wave hello. Oh wait... that doesn't sound very biker, does it. No, no, I meant to say... give them a knee-level peace sign and a scowl as we roared past one another. Yeah. Or flipped each other the bird. Hell yeah!!

We took a little detour onto historic Route 66 through Ash Fork, everything you want in a Route 66 town: picturesque, charming. But that was nothing compared to Seligman. My feller has been talking about Seligman for the last couple years, after he first went through on his way by motorcycle to Tennessee. It lived up to his raving. Seligman has an interesting history in connection with Route 66. It’s where the whole “Historic Route 66” movement began, by a barber whose business nearly collapsed after Route 40 went in, diverting traffic around his little town. I won’t bore you with the entire story here, but if you’re interested, check out their website. Next May, they're doing a vintage car event in town. I’m hoping my old ’48 Ford truck will be up to the task. I think it would be great fun to participate.

Speaking of old trucks… I’m astounded by the number of old trucks rotting in fields through Utah, Colorado, and Arizona--great old trucks from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. It broke my heart to see them parked that way. In So Cal, they’d actually be worth something.

My truck (above) came from Utah. Considering her condition, she very well could have been a field truck too. Poor old Mae. I’m glad she was one of the lucky rescues.

But back to the ride.

The route from Seligman on was purty darned hot, with long stretches of nothing. Before Ludlow, we got off of the Interstate, and returned to Route 66 through Amboy. Amboy’s one of those places my feller loves to go, even though the only thing there is a defunct motel/gas station. A restauranteur bought the place a while back and promises to bring it back to it’s full glory. Why? Roy’s is a very cool place. Great sign. Interesting architecture on the motel lobby. They do have functioning gas now, which made my feller giddy. He’s been waiting a long time to conduct business at Roy’s.

Now we're at the part of the journey where my feller’s brilliance comes in. From Amboy, it’s about 70 miles to Barstow. It was nearing five o’clock, and the sun was directly in our eyes. My butt had a good burn going, so I didn’t think there was anyway I could make it all the way back to The OC—which would mean a couple more hours in the seat. Plus, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to our vacation yet. It’s been such an amazing trip. Our option to stay in Barstow didn’t sound particularly interesting (sorry to any Barstow fans—if there are any). Just out of Amboy is the turn-off to Joshua Tree. We love Joshua Tree, go at least once a year. It’s a small town with a very alternative attitude nestled in the Joshua Tree National Forest and on the edge of the National Park (which is a stunning ride, btw). We like to stay in the motel where Graham Parsons accidentally overdosed. My feller is a huge fan of his music. Anyway, so we take the turn, and head sixty miles to Joshua Tree. Feller pulls over, and says, “How ‘bout going to Pioneertown?” BRILLIANT. Pioneertown was a movie set built in 1946. It’s a great ride to get here through a curvy road up into the rocky hills. Because so many people liked the area, Pioneertown gradually became real. Sort of. There’s not a whole lot, other than a very cool motel, and great restaurant, Pappy and Harriets, where we watched a few bands until after eleven. The room is filled with rustic antiques, they have great toiletries, and you can’t beat the old west charm. The price? $58 bucks. Astounding. Truly the perfect punctuation mark to our adventure.

So it’s Friday morning now. I’m sitting outside the room with the sun warming my back, the sounds of birds and my feller quietly playing Graham Parson’s song Wild Horses on his computer, wishing this trip wouldn’t end. But it has to. We have about a hundred miles left to go until we get home, and then it’s back to work. Don’t get me wrong, I actually like my job, but the last two weeks have opened my eyes once again to how great our country is, and how much exists outside of our little bubble we call home. It does a brain good to get out and explore.

And with that… time to hit the road for our final leg.

Until my final wrap-up tomorrow…

Later Gators.

--Eventually my feller will stop snoring, and publish his blog for Day 11 with all of our super-fantastic photos. Keep checkin' www.socal67.com. Maybe I'll go kick him and wake him up.

Day Ten--Bluff, Utah to Flagstaff, Arizona

2009-07-29T19:45:00.001-07:00

Awww... look at this adorable little toad we saw last night! Isn’t he precious??

After a fry bread breakfast at the Twin Rocks café (gee, I wonder how they came up with that name?), we headed toward Monument Valley. If you’re wondering what it looks like, well, look at the café picture and imagine more rocks like this, that go on and on and on. Pretty phenomenal stuff. Nature’s sculptures. I can’t imagine what the first explorers thought when they stumbled across this stuff. I mean, even for those who haven’t seen Monument Valley, there are enough photographs that everyone can picture it, right? From a distance, they look like castles on hilltops. Those early explorers must have been majorly ticked off when they saw them, thinking they’d discovered a new territory only to see others had built castles before them. Sadly, I have no pictures to show you. Because of the threat of rain, the cameras stayed stowed away, but you get the idea.

We stopped for gas in Tuba City. Not the best looking place in the world.

Brian found another vending machine in the gas station bathroom, one he was so excited about, he felt compelled to do a Facebook mobile upload.

Amazingly, just on the other side of Tuba City, it got crazy beautiful again. Other than the insane guys in pickup trucks making incredibly unsafe lane changes, the ride was great.

We made good time to our destination for the night, Flagstaff, and met my parents for dinner who are in town to escape the stifling Phoenix heat. Deep down, my mom wants to be a biker. She even stripped down to climb on my bike and pose for a picture.

During our walk around downtown Flagstaff, we discovered a very interesting fact: Flagstaff is an anti-pie town. No one had pie. NO ONE! Can you believe it? When I asked the girl in the coffee house where we could find pie, she said, “You won’t find pie in Flagstaff.” What???!!!! I told you my family is all about pie. No pie in Flagstaff is a very, very sad thing.

I’m too depressed to go on. Go to www.socal67.com to find out about our bitchin’ lodging for the night. He’s not as depressed about the pie as I am.

Until tomorrow…

Later gators.

Day Nine--South Fork, CO to Bluff, UT

2009-07-28T19:27:00.000-07:00

Whoa. We had the most INSANE day, full of contrasts and extremes, rife with conflict and terror… okay, terror might be overplaying it just a tad. But it was one of the wildest days I can remember having—and worth every minute.

It started innocent enough. The bed and breakfast served a great three-course breakfast: Fruit with fresh baked poppy-seed muffins, Quiche Lorraine, and an Apple Dumpling for desert. Desert at breakfast! How cool is that???

We hit the road to beautiful blue skies and ideal weather, nature luring us into her net. The ride through the Colorado Rockies had everything you’d expect, pine trees, log cabins, dead skunks… truly spectacular. I saw herds of cattle, herds of horses, and in Cortez, a herd of wild Goths, complete with tutus and skull shirts. As we continued our climb, the sky broke open, and it rained—not too much, enough to be fun, not enough to be a pain in the butt. And when you hit the sunny part of the road once again... Ahhhh... you appreciate it so much more.

Once we passed Mesa Verde, things changed dramatically. Gone were the lush agricultural fields and frolicking colts...

...replaced with the barren, brown landscape of the high desert.

Oh, but more wild changes were in store.

First, we had yet another traffic stop for construction. I actually like these, because it gives me a chance to get off the bike and take some pictures. Generally, if we’re going 65-75 mph, I don’t shoot while I ride. Only on the slow roads (okay, mom? See?)

Look at that sky, will ya?! Perfect blue, with puffy white. Just what you want to see, right?

Ha! What false bait that was!

I first noticed it on the distant horizon, a spectacular contrast of light. The hot sun made the brown scrub of the desert glow golden, while up ahead, the darkest cloud I’d ever seen blacked out the sky. I wanted to stop and shoot it, but heck, if I stopped to shoot everything that moved me, I’d never get anywhere.

The closer we got, the darker the sky became. Considering it had been blazing hot for the last hour or so, I couldn’t wait to get in the rain and cool down.

But it didn't come... yet.

Even with the impending storm, we pulled off as planned at the Four-Corners monument to grab some shots—a quick side trip, since we both knew the sky would open up at any minute. I pulled off to an overlook so we could get some cool shots...

...then we rushed over to the monument to do the classic, “Look, mom! I’m in four states” shot.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

It began with a couple of raindrops. Then the wind kicked in, which stirred up the dirt, creating a wild dust storm. When the sky opened up, it turned the dust to mud, flying at 50 mph through the wind. We took cover.

Oh… but it gets worse. Wait, first take a look at this video so you get an idea of the storm’s intensity:

I remembered I hadn’t secured my gloves because I thought we’d only be there a minute, so I walked back over to the bikes. When you see me running, that’s not to escape the rain, it’s because the wind pushed me. Hard.

And then… IT STARTED TO HAIL. I’m not kidding you.

One of the nice vendors let us take cover until the worst of it passed. The second it started to ease, we took off. For probably fifty miles, we rode in the rain. Remember how excited I was about the lightning on Day One? Well that was cute lightning. The lightning flashing overhead today was evil, chasing us down the road, flashes so bright, my chrome tank lit up. Insane.

Oh, but that’s not all.

We went to our planned gas stop. The gas station was closed. So there we were, in the middle of the Navajo Nation Indian Reservation, in the rain, with bikes that can go only 120 miles or so, and we had about 60 miles or so already on our tanks. “No worries,” says my feller, “there’s another small town down the road.” Yeah. Well, the gas station in Red Mesa? Closed due to a power outage.

I asked, “Are we screwed?”

Feller said, “Nah.”

So we continued toward our destination, Bluff, Utah. My odometer read 98. The mileage marker for Bluff? 30. Ummm… I’m no math whiz, but that adds up to 128, right?

Yeah…

Thankfully, we’d been getting great gas mileage. The good news? We made it to Bluff.

The bad news? Power outage there, too. No gas. But hey! No worries. We planned to stay in Bluff anyway. Fortunately, the steakhouse down the road cooks on an outside grill, so they were still serving food—which was a good thing, considering we skipped lunch. The food was great, the hospitality outstanding. The Desert Rose Inn is charming, the views spectacular.

The company, stellar. Life is good.

Growing up, I never saw myself as particularly adventurous, but I think I may have changed my mind today, ‘cause I had a ridiculous amount of fun. The more the weather turned to chaos, the more I laughed in my helmet. I swear, you just can’t pay for entertainment as spectacular as Mother Nature. Wind storm. Dust storm. Mud storm. Hail. Lightning. Thunder. And oh! Did I mention the flying tumbleweeds aiming for us as we whizzed down the highway? My feller hit one, and it exploded. So cool!

To see some of the cool people we met on the road today, check out my feller's site, www.socal67.com.

I reckon it’s time to get myself off this swinging bench, away from the sunset view of the red bluffs, and wash the road grime away. Until tomorrow…

Later gators.

Day Eight--Denver, CO to South Fork, CO

2009-07-27T19:32:00.000-07:00

Our exit out of Denver wasn’t exactly smooth this morning. Just as Brian staged to take off from the hotel, I realized my helmet strap wasn’t fastened, so I started hollerin’ and honkin’ trying to get him to wait. But he didn’t hear. It took about fifteen minutes for us to finally reconnect. The next obstacle came trying to navigate out of the city. These were the instructions: 287, to I-25, to US-6, to Co-88, to US-6 (again), to I-70, to Co-470, to US-285 to CO-112 to US-160. Okay. So on a motorcycle, it’s not like you can drive and check a map or GPS. You have to memorize the directions. How do you memorize something like that?? Needless to say, we got lost a couple of times, and had to stop to look at the map again. Once we hit 285, it was smooth sailing.

The 285 had lots of great stuff to enjoy—traditional mountains covered in high grasses, pine trees, and lots of wildflowers, with an occasional stream running alongside. Lots of pretty towns, and one kind of weird one: Saguache. We needed gas, and thought maybe we’d have some lunch, so we turned onto a street with a sign marked business district. I swear, it looked like a movie set. Super colorful. Totally abandoned looking. Not a single functioning business. But the photo potential… man! I could have stayed there all day getting shots. Instead, I snapped a couple, and we were on our way. (check out my feller's site for more pics of Saguache www.socal67.com). Even though we didn’t eat breakfast or lunch (other than Cliff bars), we decided to ride all the way through to our final stop in South Fork.

We hit bugs galore as we trekked through the mountains. This was my view through the helmet for the last hundred miles. Nice, huh? Ew?! (To truly appreciate the disgusting nature of this, you need to click on the picture and see it in it's full-sized glory.)

Speaking of being inside the helmet, man I sure am glad I’m all alone in there. The second we started climbing the Rockies, John Denver started speaking to me again, making me sing Rocky Mountain High (It’s all my mom’s fault. She was obsessed with John Denver when I was a kid). Even I cringed at the sound of my voice echoing in the helmet. I’m not a good singer. No one, and I mean NO ONE, wants to hear me sing. When I was in Australia covering the Olympics, I started singing one day in the car (I was delirious. Really) Our driver Jess groaned and said, “Please don’t sing!” That’s how bad I am.

But back to this trip…

Along the way, we’ve tried to mix up the places we’ve stayed. Tonight, we’re at a B&B. My feller and I were a little uneasy about doing the Bed & Breakfast thing because we’ve had not so great experiences in the past, but this place, The Apple Dumpling Inn, is pretty darned cool. There are critters (chipmonks, hummingbirds, moles) and wildflowers galore. We have great views out of all of our windows. The hosts, Bill and Robbie, have been very friendly and easy to be around, and they have a very cool kitten named
Yoda who is having a heck of a good time watching the hummingbirds buzz around, and we’re having a heck of a good time watching her.

Right now, I’m sitting on the porch swing watching the sun set below the mountains, the sounds of hummingbirds and dusk critters filling the air. It’s so insanely relaxing and beautiful.

So I reckon I'll sign off and enjoy the peace and solitude. Tomorrow, it’s on to Bluff, Utah and Monument Valley.

Until then…

Later gators

Day Six and Seven Wrap--Denver

2009-07-27T06:23:00.001-07:00

Lucky you! Today is gonna be a two-fer! I’ll wrap up the weekend now, and write about today’s ride later. It should be a great one, and I'm itchin' to get movin' again.

My pool lounging plan for the weekend? Never happened. For one, an indoor pool isn’t particularly inviting, and two, I had enough other things to keep me busy. With a couple thousand bikers in town for a motorcycle event, things get pretty fun. I especially like that a few rebels bucked the system and parked at the Marriott anyway. I mean, why be a host hotel for a motorcycle event if you don’t allow motorcycles?? Makes no sense to me.

Saturday night, went to a fun party, where everyone donned their Bronson All-Seeing-Eye. Good crowd, good food. Not too many shenanigans.

That came Sunday night at Coyote Ugly.

If you’ve never been to one, it’s worth it for the experience. The bartenders (all hot girls) dance on the bar and basically abuse their patrons.

The best part?

The bar sliding. Had I not been in a dress, I think I might have liked that. They soak down the bar, the girls take a running start, and then dive down and slide across the wet surface.

I got to hang with my pal, Paul, who is always fun. He was originally going to ride with us, but work got in the way. Maybe next time, Paul. We missed ya, buddy!

We met a great guy from San Salvador—Jorge—who joined in with our group. He and Araña especially hit it off.

The always-entertaining life-of-the-party, Disco, did a little Bull-Robatics for us. He also moon-walked, clogged, and in general, infused our group with life.

(Almost) everyone danced and whopped it up.

My feller and I mainly took a bunch of pictures that will probably never see the light of day lest we loose all of our friends. (To see a few other select pictures, check out www.socal67).

A random guy asked to have his picture taken with me. It was dark enough that I guess he didn't realize I was old enough to be his mother.

So I was talking to these two guys at the bar, James and Rick, and it turns out, they passed us on the road. I remember them well as we were coming over the I-70 into Denver. James gave me a peace sign. They thought we were pretty bad-ass, hard-core for riding Sportsters from Southern California. Heck. I don’t know any better, so I don’t feel too tough or anything. Feller , who does know a difference, says touring on a Sportster is pretty cool, and would do it again. That doesn’t mean he’s giving up his Road King or anything, but other than higher speed freeway stuff, he said the Sportster performed like the champ that it is.

And now… it’s time to hit the road again. We’ll be heading down the 285 toward South Fork, where we have reservations at a cool looking Victorian B&B.

Until tonight….

Later gators

Day Five--Glenwood Springs, CO to Denver, CO

2009-07-24T21:42:00.000-07:00

Here we are at our final destination--Denver--at least until Monday, when we take the southern route back to California. We had another gorgeous day of travel along the Colorado River, complete with white water river rafters and a really bitchin' tunnel that seemed to go forever. Funny thing... when you climb in elevation, it gets colder. My feller knows the exact elevation, check in with him (www.socal67.com). I just know I was freezing my butt off. Because we only stopped for gas, I took only one picture. Here it is, at a gas station. Epic, eh? At least the subjects are handsome.

We pulled off the Interstate at one point looking for gas and cruised through a cool little town... Idaho something. But the gas station was under construction.

We continued on, arriving in Denver around two-ish.

Be prepared. Here comes a bit of a rant....

I've been told Denver isn't a motorcycle friendly town, but I didn't really believe it. Then we arrived. Wow. The Marriott at City Center where we're staying doesn't allow motorcycles on premises. We were told we had to park in the public parking structure down the street--even though a giant horse trailer and truck were allowed to stay. So we go to the recommended garage. The motorcycle parking is full. We go to the next level, and the next, and finally find a regular spot. But no!! One of the workers told us motorcycles can be parked ONLY on the first floor. We explained it was full. He said, "Squeeze in." Really?? Come on. Denver, and more so the Marriott City Center, are now on my not-so-great list.

But I won't let it ruin the trip.

Rant over.

I'd like to take some time to address a question that has come up: Shooting pictures and video while riding a motorcycle. For any others who are concerned about safety, I do this only on the scenic roads when we are traveling at low speed. Generally (with the exception of this one) my eyes remain on the road, the camera is looped around my neck, and with my left hand, I take the picture/video. It's quick, and quite safe. I don't let it distract me from piloting the machine. I don't shoot on the Interstates. Trust me...

The next couple of days, I'll be lounging poolside (sadly, it's an indoor poor). It's doubtful I'll have worthwhile blog material.

Hey wait! I'll just give it to you now:

Day 6: Lounged by the pool.
Day 7: Lounged by the pool.

Until Day 8, when we hit the road again....

Later gators

Day Four--Green River Utah to Glenwood Springs, Colorado

2009-07-23T21:53:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the late post. I was busy soaking in the Glenwood Hot Springs. Ahhhhh….

After all the glory of the Utah National Parks, we thought today was going to… well… suck, for lack of a better word--back on Interstate 70, through the no-mans-land part of Utah into Colorado. Man! Were we pleasantly surprised! The Utah stretch was desolate, but very textural and interesting. I even saw a roadside sign that said, “Eagles on Road.” How interesting is that?! I never saw an Eagle on the road, though, only in the sky. Maybe the road Eagles were hanging out with Kerouac. Thanks to a roadside readjustment, I got to take this purty picture of my Sportster. She's wearing a lot of road dirt right now.

I’ve traveled the country a lot. Growing up, my parents would pack my brother and I in the camper and head cross-country. For a month. In a camper. With my brother. Ugh. That’s how I thought of it as a kid. I didn’t appreciate it the way I do as an adult.

My point, though…

In all of my cross-state travels, I’ve never seen so dramatic of a state line as I did today, crossing into Colorado. We passed a wooden plank sign that read, “Welcome to Colorado, the colorful state,” where two hard-core bicyclists were stopped to get their picture. The MOMENT… I mean, the very SECOND we crossed that state line, the terrain changed. It went from a virtual moonscape, to hills and greenery. I thought it was perhaps my overly vivid imagination, but my feller mentioned it on our next stop, and was equally stupefied. I’m sure he’ll write about it in his blog as well (www.socal67.com).

From there, the ride just got better and better as we snaked along with the Colorado River through the mountains--wide sweepers on smooth roads with a gorgeous river running alongside and black-eyed Susans waving from the shoulder. Pretty nifty.

We got to our destination by one thirty, an historic hotel built in 1893. Hotel Colorado, in Glenwood Springs. (Check out the website. It has an interesting history.) One of my feller’s coworker’s husband suggested we stop in Glenwood Springs, so I searched the internet and found this place, a four story sandstone building right across from the hot springs. It was built in 1893 as a luxury getaway for the rich. The staff was very accomodating, even giving us special motorcycle parking. I think my feller enjoyed driving on the sidewalks a little too much.

According to the hotel, the Teddy Bear was named here during a visit from Theodore Roosevelt, who was in the area bear hunting, and when he became ill, the staff made a stuffed bear and gave it to him. My feller and Teddy had a very meaningful conversation. You can tell by the looks on their faces. My feller also found himself a nice ghostly girlfriend. And we didn't believe them when they said the place was haunted...

The town is classic American charm, with the Colorado River running through the middle, and a downtown district made up of turn-of-the century (20th) buildings. I reckon it mostly caters to tourists—lots of good restaurants and shops.
.
The great thing about getting here so early was having time to go to the hot springs. This thing is HUGE, packed with people, two pools (one 104 degrees, the other cooler). We swam for a couple of hours. Cleaned up for dinner. Ate a great meal at Juicy Lucy’s. And went back to the Hot Springs. I’m so relaxed right now, I have to prop up my hand to type.

Tomorrow we hit our final destination. Denver. I’m not going to say it will be a boring ride, ‘cause we said that about today, and boy were we wrong. Surprise! Surprise!

Until tomorrow…

Later Gators

Day Three--Tropic, Utah to Green River, Utah

2009-07-22T17:28:00.000-07:00

I'm super tired after a challenging day of riding, so I'm going to make it short. My brain is feeling a bit mushy. I'll let the video do talking.

I'm all about Scenic Byway 12. Not only do you get the classic Utah red rocks, you also get high altitudes and pine trees, the green as vibrant as the earlier red. If you're ever in this part of Utah, it's well worth the trip, even with the construction we had to drive through. Loose gravel on winding mountain roads with no guard rails don't combine well with motorcycles, but fortunate for us, we met "The Desert Doctor" during our breakfast stop in Escalante, and he told us about the conditions so we were prepared for the gravel and took it nice and slow. Some other motorcyclists we passed did NOT look happy. At one point, an escort truck had to lead us through. But it was so worth it. From 12, we turned off onto 24. Again, a perfect choice. Capitol Reef wins my vote so far for coolest rocks, sheer cliffs that went vertical for what looked like miles. Intense.

Yesterday, I was all about pie, noticing every restaurant advertising the treat. (Last night's mixed fruit pie was very good, btw). Today, I fixated on barns. I don't know why. Pie makes sense. Barns? Maybe it's because we don't see barns in California. Or maybe my hillbilly Kentucky roots are shining through. Beats me.

And speaking of beat... time to sleep.

Until tomorrow....

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Day Two--Mesquite, NV to Tropic, UT

2009-07-21T17:00:00.000-07:00

Such a great day, where to begin...

Breakfast? Okay. St. George, at the Bear Paw Cafe, located on historic Main Street in an area loaded with charm. I'm discovering our country is riddled with historic Main Streets, which is good. Certainly better than strip malls. I found the place thanks to an internet search, and even though the grouchy mountain bike guy's blog said it was "overrated," we decided to go anyway. Glad we did. My apple-stuffed french toast was de-licious.

From there, it was off to Zion National Park. WOW. What a place! Talk about feeling small in the world, with the giant red cliffs dwarfing us on either side. Spectacular. In case you're wondering what it's like to ride a motorcycle through Zion, here's a taste.

I'd like to say the sepia video was an intentional artistic choice, but, ummm.... no. It's hard to change settings while shooting one handed and steering with the other. Sadly, the sepia takes away the vibrancy of the red cliffs, which were made redder by the rain. But... you get the idea, right?
The roads through the park are also red, like the rocks, and smooth, with great hook around turns as you climb--fun, but not overly challenging. The ride through the park ended too quickly, maybe twenty miles or so. One of the best parts was riding through the caves. Tomorrow, I think we hit Bryce Canyon. I can hardly wait.

Oh yeah... did I mention it rained? Pretty cool. Literally. Had to stop and put rain gear on. We've been really lucky with weather. Yes, it's been raining, but because of that the temperatures have been mild, and with the sun behind the clouds, very comfortable with little squinting. Yes, in fact, those ARE sideways raindrops coming down on my Sportster!

We scored on our stop for the night: Tropic, Utah's Bryce Country Cabins, another internet find thanks to a tip from of our pal Chris.

Charm doesn't do the place justice. Individual log cabins situated on a twenty-acre farm. The field of alfalfa is our view out the back side of the cabin, and there are swinging wooden chairs to sit and ponder the beauty--the alfalfa, not the goofy girl.

And did I mention the critters?? Goats (yay! goats!), sheep, horses, bison, chickens...

...perfect for critter lovers like us.

I wonder if this precious goat would fit on my motorcycle? Hmmm....

And since we started with food, we'll end on food. Dinner in Tropic, at Clark's Restaurant. I had the delicious ruby trout. So good.

We brought home a slice of mixed fruit pie for later. Speaking of pie, as we were riding today, I started thinking about my family's obsession with pie. On our cross-country family trips, the most important thing to find was pie. And not just any pie. It had to be homemade. Twice today, I saw restaurants along the way touting homemade pie. It made me think of our family vacations with great fondness.

Well, I've certainly rambled on. Time to go.

We had a lot of great pictures today. Check out the photo album on www.socal67.com for a few more. Don't want to slow the site down too much or bore our audience (hi mom!) so we won't put them all up, just enough to give the flavor of the trip.

Until tomorrow...

Later gators!

Day One—Orange County, CA to Mesquite, NV

2009-07-20T18:19:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering what NBC airs at three in the morning, it’s Meet the Press with David Gregory. I know, because that’s what woke us up to begin our great motorcycle adventure. Woo hoo! Raring to go! We look wide-awake, don’t we? I knew we shouldn’t have stayed up until midnight! Oy.

But hey! It’s been a great adventure so far. I’ve gotta tell ya… something happened on the ride today, something so nifty, so insanely cool and fantastic that I giggled in my helmet for miles.

But… I’ll get to that in a bit.

Back to this morning. Once we got everything loaded and secured, we hit the road by the light of the crescent moon. No traffic. Nice cool temps—in fact, a little too cool since I had only the vented jacket and tee. But hey! Complaining about being cold knowing 100+ temps were waiting over the hill made no sense—so like any good Motor Doll, I bucked it up and bore the cold even though, as we crested the Cajon Pass, my teeth chattered in my head so loud it sounded like Halloween skeletons rattling in my helmet.

The cold didn’t last long. When we stopped in Baker at eight a.m. the giant thermometer already read 96 degrees. Hot.

We fueled bodies and bikes, my feller filled the CamelBaks at the Mad Greek where we dined, we donned the cool vests (or at least I did), and hit the road. Because we’re riding Sportsters (which have small tanks), we have to stop for gas every hundred miles, which is okay because it gives us a chance to stretch: Victorville, Baker, Vegas, and our final stop in Mesquite, which is where we’re staying for the night.

We arrived at noon. We both wanted to keep riding, but since we had reservations (and if we kept going, it would throw off our reservations for the rest of the trip) we stopped.

Went for a swim. Ate a swell dinner at the Casino. My feller posed with the natives.

But really… you don’t give a rat’s ass about any of that, now do you? You want to hear about the super-groovy thing, right?

Okay. Here goes:

Just as the Las Vegas Strip came into view off the 15, a flash lit up the sky in the mountains north of Vegas. A bright white, zig-zag shaped flash. Uh oh, right?

Remember a couple of days ago I was freaking out about the whole riding in rain thing?

Well... the opportunity came, day one. As we left Vegas and neared the Sheep Mountain Range, the lightning grew more frequent. And as we climbed the grade, the rain began. I can’t begin to describe the feeling of riding through a lightning storm in the mountains. All of my senses were engaged. The smell of the wet desert. The taste of the rain. The feel of the drops hitting my neck. The visual spectacular taking place on either side of the road. Yes, I was a bit worried my chrome Sportster would turn into a rolling lightning catcher, but thankfully, I out-rode the bolts. Go Sporty, go! Seriously, the second the rain came and the lightning starting going mad, I started giggling and didn’t stop until we rode back out into the hot desert where our clothes dried within minutes. The experience was THAT COOL.

Well… that’s it. My thrilling story. Was it worth reading through to the end to find out the mystery? I hope so.

Until tomorrow (which is supposed to be a full day of thunderstorms ☺ )…

Later gators.

For my feller's account of the day and more pictures, go to www.socal67.com.

Mo-Do B Nearly Gets Ditched

2009-07-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

It's late, nearly eleven p.m. and our plan is to get up at four to leave, so I'll make this brief--cause I'm BEAT.

To get to the point? About three o'clock today, I was seriously worried I was going to get left behind for the big trip (not that my feller would ditch me or anything... at least not on purpose, right?... Nah...). It would be just like Nashville all over again, me waving goodbye and then going back into the house with the World's Worst Cat, Zoe and a kitchen remodel a quarter of the way done, while he rode across country living the dream.

Here's what happened:

We got everything packed--amazingly, it all fit--and decided to go out for a test run to make sure nothing would fall off as we motored down the road. Good news? It didn't. Bad news? My brake lights and turn signals had gone wonky, as in not working. My feller spent all day trying to fix the problem (check out www.socal67.com for the details), and finally found the problem after dinner.

Woo hoo!!!! I still get to go!!!!

And now... I must sleep.

Until tomorrow--

Later gators

The Forecast

2009-07-16T14:03:00.000-07:00

Oh my. Last night, we checked the ten-day outlook for Utah. The forecast? Yes. That's right. THUNDERSTORMS. In fact, most of our trip looks as if we'll be riding through rain. Swell, huh? Well... I wanted an adventure, right? And what could be more adventurous than riding through curvy mountain roads in the rain? Oh my. At least there's the saving caveat of "Isolated."

The two Sportsters. Feller will be on the red one in the foreground, and I, of course, will be on the chrome one. Ain't they purty?

On the up side, our Rev Pack motorcycle luggage came.

My feller strapped them onto the Sportsters and we did a test pack, stuffing them with towels and blankets. They seem to work great. Question is, will it be enough? Two weeks? In this?

With a bag this small, my options will be sorely limited. I mean, even
though according to Facebook I'm "0% Girl," I'm still a mood dresser and like to have options. But... it's not like I need cute outfits since no one will see them underneath my riding gear, right?

Acutally, the bigger problem is packing all of
our electronics: My SLR camera, both of our G cameras, both of our computers, chargers... you know, everything it takes to stay connected. Man. Life sure was simplier before all of this simplifying technology, eh?

Went to Auto Club and got a stack of maps. And the sporting goods store for padded bicycle shorts to maybe cushion the ride.

Made reservations at the kitty boarders for the world's worst cat, Zoe.

It's all coming together. Now, if only the sun will shine next week.

Until Sunday, later gators.

How to Pack a Sportster

2009-07-14T08:34:00.000-07:00

I haven't figured it out yet, how to fit two-weeks worth of stuff on a Sportster. This is her... the beauty I'll ride for 2000 miles--a 2004 Harley-Davidson 1200 Roadster. As you can see, there isn't a whole lot of room to put a bag. My feller ordered a duffel that should mount okay on the rear fender, but it hasn't come so it's still a mystery. Which is cool, right? I mean, we still have four days to figure it out!

When we've done road trips in the past, my feller has been on his Road King, which has saddle bags and a rear rack. Plenty of room.

(From a Joshua Tree run last year)

But because it's the 40th Anniversary of Then Came Bronson (an NBC show about a guy cruising the country on a Sportster to escape the pain over his bff's suicide), my feller decided we should both ride Sportsters to commemorate the event, complete with tank badge just like Bronsons.

Of course, I'll need to practice my melancholy face. I need to look full of pain and angst as I ride--which might not be hard to fake considering my seat isn't the most comfortable. But as Bronson would say, "Hang in there, man."

Later gators....