Old Fashioned Music

Ohio Sky's new album "The Big Distraction"

 Much has been said about this recent resurgence of vinyl records. My question did it ever really go away? Some might say yes; it was all but extinct. With the advent of Napster in the late 90's, music changed. The way we look at it, the way we consumed it, and the way bought it (or didn't buy it).

Growing up in suburban Cleveland was glorious and one thing I had in the house since I could remember was a record player. One of my first memories about a record player was when my mom was teaching my brother how to slow dance in the living room to a slow song on a record on the record player for his first dance. My younger brother and I sat on the couch and laughed and giggled. After we moved across the street the record player was gone. Where it went I wasn't sure.

My older brother had a record player on his stereo in his room, but he always used the cassette deck, playing Extreme's Pornographitti til it wore out. Then Escape Club. I mean he had a ton of great cassettes. Rarely did the record player get used except on the mornings of our birthdays. You know those songs you could buy on a hair thin piece of vinyl that sang a birthday song with your name in it? Yeah my mom had one for each of us. The morning of our birthday it was our wake up call. The popping and cracking, Zoom would come down to Earth just to since us this song.

When he went to college he took his stereo and record player with him. That's when mom bought a surround sound system. I was bummed. It didn't have a CD player. Instead it has a dual cassette deck and a record player. What the hell? Tastes had changed, even in the early 90's. Everyone started to go digital albeit very slowly. It wasn't until I found old HiFi speakers in the basement and hooked them up to the new system did I really appreciate the sound of it. The sound of the old speakers that seemed as clear as anything you could buy brand new. They looked like crap, but they sounded cool. That's when Mom pulled out the crate of old records.

Among the records, as I thumbed through them, was Michael Jackson's Thriller. I remembered this record in a distant memory. I remember it being propped up next to the record player in the old house. I remember looking at the photo on the inside of the jacket of Michael and a baby tiger. I took the LP out of the jacket, put it on the record player, and dropped the needle.

The sound was unreal. When Thriller came on you could hear the footsteps like they were coming down the hall. You could hear every sound each element of the song gave. It is like I was hearing the song for the first time. I had played this damn thing over and over, but never like this. It was just amazing. My young adolescent ears just heard the clearest sound in the world. I will always remember it fondly. I played that record over and over and just sat and listened.

Later in the 90's Napster happened and it was awesome. You could get this endless supply of free music from anyone you could think of. The sound was good. Hell I even played some of the stolen tracks on CD I burned later on that old HiFi system using a line in and a DiscMan.

Record stores had switched to tapes and then CD's long ago. Those cool little stores that I never went into had records. With that change came the way we listened to music. The Walkman came with the ability to take your personal music with you. Music went from the forefront to the background. It was now the music bed of our montage we called life. When you listened to a record you always had to pay attention to it. Sure we'd put a record on and clean the house, but when the music stopped we would stop and turn it over, then continue on. Tapes had a similar experience, but then they invented a way for it to keep playing without stopping.

When music went to the mp3 not only did it get worse, but artists who would spend a year putting together an album from start to finish with song choice and order in mind, people were picking one or two songs to download off of it and mixing it with other songs from other artists. The listener became their own artist. Sure we did this a little bit with mix tapes in the 80s, but mp3s grew it. For a long time I never paid for a single track of music. Not a single one. Then something changed.

I started taking photos, putting a lot of time into it. I would go out take photos, share them, and do it again. I loved it. That's when people started asking me to come out and do pictures for them, except they expected it for free. I was once asked to send a photo to someone so that they could print it out. In my head I was thinking hell no. I'm not going to give up that kind of control over what I took, and do it for free.

That's when I started thinking, why would I spend all this time making art for them, and then give it away. My time was worth it. That's when I looked down at my phone and looked at all the songs I have. All of them works of art that I had stolen. I was a hypocrite. That's when I started buying music again.

Now that I was paying money for tunes, I was paying attention to the music. I would carefully choose which albums to buy, which ones that weren't worth my time and my money. I noticed a few things. Electronic format is nice and convenient, but it was missing something. A soul. It's cold sterility of a near perfect quality of sound took away the warmth of the sound. Like Agent Smith said in the Matrix, "...it was a perfect reality that our primitive cerebellum kept trying to wake up from."

Records went away but yet they are still here. There is a growing group of 30 somethings buying them and starting to listen to their old collections and look for folks putting out new stuff on vinyl. Why? Because they are music snobs? Probably, but what made me want to get a record player again is that I found a band that I really loved, they put out a vinyl record, and dammit I wanted to listen to it. Just this morning my five year old asked me what this box on the table was. So I showed her. Her eyes wide with wonderment. How could that disc make the sounds it could? I dropped her off at school and she immediately saw her friend. I heard her say, "My Dad got a record player." Her friend responded with, "Cool! What's that?" and off they went into school. My wife said, "wait til she sees a landline phone. It will blow her mind."

When I see someone who listens to vinyl, I see someone who has stopped stealing art and started paying for it again. I see someone who doesn't take the art of music for granted and something that shouldn't be taken or given away. They don't give vinyl out for free. Somewhere along the line someone had to pay money for it. That's why I bought a vinyl record in 2009 and again this past Saturday night from the same band. I wanted to support a band so that they can continue to make art that I enjoy in a format that has more soul than the iWhatever you have in your pocket.

Ohio Sky

I have devoted many words on my various blogs to Ohio Sky. April 18, 2009 I was at their record release party for their first album; 'Apophis'. I knew then that I was in for a treat especially because they named their record after a near Earth asteroid. Heck yes.

Last night was another record release party and it was great. Great is a poor adjective, but I looked in a thesaurus and I couldn't find anything suitable so great it is. I mean outstanding is a good one. Excellent I guess, but every word in the English language cannot come close to an Ohio Sky experience. 

Admittedly I felt very selfish leaving my very pregnant wife at home with the 5 year old. When she said to go, I heard sirens going off, "It's a trap!". She assured me to go, it wasn't like I go out all that often, and a lot of bands do not get me off the couch to spend money. Ohio Sky did, does, and will probably continue to do so. She even said she would have gone had she not been, you know, been almost 9 months pregnant. 

There are some things I don't get about concerts. I was going to pre-order tickets, but the prices online were $16.75. So I decided no, I'm not going. When I did decide at the last second to go, I walked up to the box office and got my ticket for $12.00. Does it really cost the House of Blues that much to process the transaction online? 

Anyway I walked in and went right to the merch table and grabbed the new record pressed into clear vinyl and I got the CD and I entered into the room, record in hand and just listened. 

What I love about Ohio Sky is that they shed the delusions of grandeur. Their first demo recording of 6 songs under the name THE Ohio Sky I picked up at the first Cleveland Ingenuity fest was really good. I knew right then and there that there was something special about this band, but the band's myspace page at one point had a phrase; "changing the face of rock." but when you played their music, as great as it was, didn't offer anything in the way of a change in the face of rock as they professed. It fit the current popular rock music, big vocals and catchy hooks but it just sounded like everything on the radio. I think their rhetoric regarding their talent was a product of the narcissism of the now former front man. Maybe, I don't know, but as talented as he is as a singer and songwriter and he is, his lyrics and his sound didn't push the genre as much as I knew he could. THE Ohio Sky was just a rehashing of a band they might have been before, repackaged, and re-released.

When Rob departed and Vinny took over the lead vocals and added a keyboard player (Patrick Finegan) and a rhythm guitarist (Michael Bashur). The addition of the keyboardist and Vinny on vocals gave the band and completely different sound and then they dropped the "THE". Vinny's tenor voice coupled with all the neat sounds the keyboards come with made for a completely spacey journey. This was the genre pushing I knew this band had in them. This is when things really started to take off for me. They got rid of the flashy myspace posturing and just made great music. This was when they transformed into Ohio Sky. 

Apophis is as much groundbreaking as it is a space odyssey to those recesses of your mind you could only enter when you were asleep. Opening an album with a 7 minute instrumental is as much genius as it is risky. 

Ohio Sky established their sound with Apophis and made a statement. Their second album, Curses, took that space rock sound and polished it, packaged it up with radio friendly tunes and crazy hypnotic riffs. It is best you listen in a dark room with your stereo turned up to 11. It truly is a visceral experience.  

"This House" is a further exploration of what kind of range Ohio Sky has. Taking it slow and methodical, the songs sound as much improvised as planned out. They clearly have a desire to be kept out of a box. Scratch that. The box, smash it and say to hell with boxes. 

Their new album "The Big Distraction" sounds like they know exactly who they are and who they want to be musically. They are unabashed to rock you so hard you're trembling and then take you down and just relax. 

It's hard to think back to a band in recent memory that has gotten continually better, creative, and didn't get into the genre definitions that come with being a band in the world of classification. I literally have them sorted into their own genre on my phone. They aren't rock, they aren't acid rock, they are straight up, Ohio Sky. 

Ohio Sky keeps getting better. Each person brings something to the table. With Michael moving over to bass when Mike Drury left, the foursome has never sounded tighter. Michael at one point uses a bow from a string instrument on his electric bass. The sound is just hauntingly delightful. 

This show opened with a black out on stage and nothing but a projection of snow, stars, and smoke in the background and the lights never came up. They were back lit like shadows on a wall, letting their music speak for itself and it happened to rock your face off. Their stage presence is intoxicating. 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This new album is worth a dictionary and the hour break in your day to listen to it in its entirety. This is what rock can truly be. 

When you look back to footage of bands that started a movement, last night could have easily been one of those shows. Playing to a packed room, shoulder to shoulder on stage and in the crowd, Ohio Sky took you along on their musical journey. All our hearts beating with every smack of the drum and strum of the guitar. Our heads bobbing as one. Live shows are amazing and if you miss your chance to see Ohio Sky live, you are wasting your life. 

Questions

A person's a person no matter how small - Dr Seuss

It is early on  a Tuesday morning and here I am typing away to you. I am confused. Confused by what happened in Ferguson, MO, confused about the national conversation, confused about everything.

You already know what has happened in Ferguson, MO. You already know what happened in Cleveland. If you are looking for answers here, you aren't going to get them from me. I'm afraid all I have are more questions.

A questions that has yet to be asked in this mess is; why is a black person's life only worth anything if they are killed by a white person?

I don't see protests for injustice when there is black on black crime. Why do we need to classify it as black on black crime? Why do we need to classify it? A human being took the life of another human being, yet we aren't protesting in the street. Outside of the police shootings crime happens daily, in those places you only talk about but rarely go. There are hundreds of thousands of cases that are open right now that are more violent, heinous, and disturbing than what happened in Ferguson, MO. Still no one is protesting about those because people write it off as that the victims were just victims of their environment.

What is happening in Ferguson has been smoldering for years, and this shooting was the lightning rod that lit the powder keg. There isn't just perceived injustice in this city, it is real. I have seen it with my own eyes. I lived not far from there when I lived the St. Louis area. I left there for two reasons, I missed home and I didn't like the racially charged atmosphere that was there. It was on both sides.

I had a friend who lived in Ferguson, I would visit her and we stopped at a Denny's in Florissant and you could hear people on one side talking about the crooked cops, and the cops on the other talking about at the <insert you favorite racial slur here>. White dudes who hated black dudes, black dudes that hated white dudes. This was back in 1999-2000. The most ridiculous thing I heard while living there was; if you were a black guy driving through Missouri, fill your car up in St. Louis and don't stop til Kansas City. It was crazy.

But what we are missing is that we need to stop meeting violence with violence.

Somewhere in this whole mess we stopped respecting human life. As a species we are a flawed bunch. We have contradictions that make no sense; but we also have each other. No matter what we think, a human was killed by another human. That is a tragedy. It always is. But I ask the question again; why does a black man's life only mean something if they are killed by a white man?

Dr. Seuss was right. We need to realize it.

wanderlust - 

[won-der-luhst] noun 1. a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about. - source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary

It write a lot. Not here as much, but in my trusty Moleskine. I find myself that I write more when I feel the need to escape or feel burnt out. I go back and read my entries and it seems I only have been writing when I have this sense of wanderlust. Where this desire comes from I don't know, but it nags at me when I get stressed out, when I get overwhelmed, but also when I am happy. The desire to just go somewhere is always something I love to do.

When I get these pangs of innate desire to rove, I usually turn to Netflix. Actually Netflix can be a catalyst for these things too. In March I found the documentary series, "The Long Way Round". It chronicled Ewan McGregor and Charly Boorman around the world from London, across Europe and through Asia eventually making their way across America to New York City, then back to London. Sounds awesome. What made this whole endeavor exciting is that they did it only on motorcycles. They had chase vehicles and a support team, but in the end, they rode their motor bikes as far as they could. Across terrain that you could barely walk. They stopped when they got tired, met interesting people. I was so enthralled, but at the same time telling myself I could never do that.

I guess this is the ultimate exercise in futility. I want to do these things, I want to experience traveling to all these places, but never actually try to plan, save, reduce money drains in my life to do any of these things.

Another documentary I was very curious to watch was "Tiny". It was about people who sold all their possessions and reduce their living area to about 200 square feet. The people love it, they talk about not letting their stuff take them over. I was so into this movie, all the while drowning in a house full of stuff we can't seem to let go of. Stored baby clothes. Stuffed animals that all have names and birth dates. Knickknacks with memories and sentimental values tied to them. Supplies for the art studio my wife and I would love to have. Dishes for a dining room we don't have. Wall art for a movie room we don't have.

Everywhere I look I am surrounded by stuff. Stuff we can't seem to ever put away. Stuff we don't really need. Stuff.

This past week I have been watching documentaries about sailing. See, on Labor day some friends, Justin and Jessica Mason, invited us out on their sail boat. They had just purchased the 39' vessel and this was the first big weekend they were taking it out. The wife, Addison, Audrey, and I met them at the dock, loaded the provisions we all brought, cast lines and off into Lake Erie we went for the day.

Sailing in Lake Erie off Cleveland on Labor Day (click to enlarge)

I have never felt more alive inside. The satisfying act of leaving a safe place and willingly going into a place that can turn on you is just exhilarating. I was quiet most of the day asking questions when I wanted to learn, but just allowing myself to be present in the moment. I took the camera out a little. Took some photos. We were in the breeze all day. When we got back to the yacht club, Wifey and Addison got off and drove home, and Audrey and I stayed on to help take the boat from Rocky River to Lorain another three to four hour sail. Jessica suffered a slight injury earlier in the day when the boom went hard from port to starboard, ripping the lines out of her hand and causing a slight burn. I know sailing needs lots of hands, and there was no way to get that boat from Rocky River with only Justin's hands especially with a breeze gusting up to 25 knots. So Audrey and I stayed on. I learned a lot about sailing that day. A lot more than when I sailed as a young kid on my Uncle's Catalina sailboat. I was just a passenger back then. When I was out with the Masons I felt like a part of the crew. Pulling lines, trimming sails, tossing dock lines. Cleaning seasickness out of the galley's sink when Audrey couldn't make it topside.

After experiencing the freedom of turning off the engine and being powered only by the wind, I need more of it. I stayed up most of the night last night watching youtube videos of a crew of people who 5 years ago left Seattle, Washington on S/V Delos. They have been shooting videos of their journey for 5 years. I watched every. single. one of the them. These people are living the dream. They didn't win the lottery. They weren't multi-millionaires. They were just some people that wanted to sail to untie from the crap they hated and go do something they loved.

Wifey said when we pulled into the marina that Labor Day morning, "I'd like to have a boat someday."

I would love a sailboat one day too, but is it the sailboat I want or the freedom that casting lines brings? Do I have a dream that involves getting rid of everything I own, distilling my life down to contents of a car and living on a sailboat? Yes. Why that is I don't know, but I look at it this way. Living on a sailboat is like living in a tiny house that travels. Takes both of these philosophies that people who live in tiny houses and sailors and combines it into one. And that is something I would like to work towards. The freedom to do what you want, and the uncluttering of my life down to the essentials.

Sometimes getting there IS the adventure.

Forgiveness

I live in Cleveland.

Yes, I heard. LeBron James is coming to Cleveland. Like everyone 4 years ago I had some thoughts on LeBron leaving. You can see it here. 

Today just after 12 noon, Twitter, Facebook, and my email started to blow up. 

I saw a lot of folks who were happy that LeBron was coming home. Those folks, 4 years ago, also called him every name in the book. Some call that hypocrisy. I call it something more. 

Forgiveness. 

Hear me out.

Since Cleveland got its heart torn out Clevelanders took a look around and saw something more than 1 player leaving. I saw them take a look around and enjoy some of the best things Cleveland had to offer. We weren't in the nation's spotlight anymore. We thought the world was going to end, and when it didn't we brushed the dust off and started to build something more. The fans that filled stadiums and arenas around Cleveland were real fans. They weren't only real fans of the sports teams, real fans of the restaurants, real fans of the bars, casino, I could go on for days. They were real fans of Cleveland. 

What I saw from the national media, mainly a 4 lettered network that starts with an 'E' and ends with an 'N'. I saw them replay over and over the heartbreak of Red Right 88, The Fumble, The Drive, The 9th Inning, and then The Decision. Every single heartbreaking moment played out in a loop. Every time Cleveland would be on the brink of winning a game, the hosts would say something like, "Cleveland has had so much crap slung its way, *play all the heart breaking moments* let's hope this isn't one of those things."

ESPN couldn't fathom why anyone would want to be in Cleveland. People from outside Cleveland couldn't understand why anyone would want to go to Cleveland. I think at one time, we all thought the same thing.

Then in that last 4 years, we started to get national press. Not headline news, but small REAL articles about the culture of Cleveland. The New York Times, The Huffington Post, and the Wall Street Journal. They've all talked about the cool things happening in Cleveland. None of it was centered around a sports figure or sports arena. It centered around art, food, our great natural resources.

I think what is really helping Cleveland is its realization that it didn't need LeBron James to be awesome. We needed each other. We liked that we had this oasis in the Midwest all to ourselves. Not being in the national spotlight made us look at ourselves in the mirror and say, we are better. We are way better than a guy who decided to leave.  

Audrey asked me, "Why does it matter so much that LeBron is back in Cleveland."

I tried to answer this question as easily as I could.

To the national media (read: ESPN) we are relevant again. We are a contender again. We are something that can be built up, and if they win it's a big story. If they lose they have just another moment in their slideshow of misery.

We, as a group of people in Cleveland, all forgave LeBron. He told us he forgave us by his actions to come back. He made a BIG commitment to this city. Sounds like bygones are bygones.

But what I told Audrey was this. Cleveland is excited because for years we have been hearing that we are this mistake on a lake, he didn't WANT us; no one wanted us. We are somehow less than other cities for one reason or another. We have been told that no one in their right mind would CHOOSE to come back. The national media said that LeBron left, among one reason or another, to chase the lights of a big city, a big market, or something bigger than what he had at home. How great of a place could it be if a guy born and bred there even left?

Well he came back. The big lights aren't everything. This is the biggest star in the world who is from Akron/Cleveland/Bath/Northeast Ohio yelling loudly and proudly that he is coming home, to where he WANTS to be. He chose. We didn't choose him this time. We didn't draft him and force the issue. He chose. Just like you and I chose. Just like Johnny Manziel chose when he sent a text message to the Cleveland Browns saying, "Come get me."

You know who else chose?

The RNC chose to come.
The Gay Games chose to come.
Progressive Insurance chose to come.
American Greetings chose to come.
Sherwin-Williams chose.
Michael Symon chose.
Sawyer chose.
Reggie Langhorne chose to come back.
Bernie Kosar is still here.
Hanford Dixon is still here.
My older brother left, he came back.
I left, and came back.
My mom left and came back.
My little brother, he left; he might come back....for some games.

As I said in 2010. Cleveland is more than 1 player on 1 team. Over these past 4 years it feels as though we believe it now; but having someone else say, yup, Cleveland is the place to be, makes all of us say;Yes. Yes it is.

I said we deserved better. In the last 4 years, we GOT better. We ARE better.

We are ready to believe our own hype. We are ready to be winners.

Winning is a habit. Being a champion is a mindset.

The Township 5: Video

Olmsted Township Fire Department from dlayphoto on Vimeo.

I couldn't just sit around and watch this happen. I couldn't watch 5 guys get laid off because the powers that be were sacrificing safety for financial solvency. I couldn't watch 5 guys go through what I went through nearly a year ago and get fired, laid off, or whatever buzzword is happening to denote that you are no longer working where you work. It was a travesty in my eyes to just sit back and watch it happen, especially because some of these guys were some of the first firefighters I ever shot, while on-scene for a live fire training. I had to do something.

So when I called and asked to come out and get some photos, Olmsted Township Fire welcomed David Lay and I with open arms. Our mission was to show what would happen when 5 guys were no longer there to keep the fires out and get the sick to the hospital. I was shooting the stills, David was shooting the video. We wanted to show you the faces of the men leaving, because they are not just a number on a community's spread sheet, they are a person, with a family, and with a major mission to serve the community regardless of the politics involved with their employment.

Take a look at the video, share it, because this is a problem in not only the small community of Olmsted Township, but all over the United States. Awareness is what will save us. 

View from Engine 4

In Cleveland St. Patrick's Day is a party that would rival any city in terms of pure debauchery. It is a weird family party mixed with binge drinking and green everything. This all culminates into a large parade which last multiple hours through the heart of Downtown Cleveland. In other words, this is a bar's black Friday if I may be so bold. The way to clear out the coolers of old beer that was left over from the winter and what better way to mask the skunked flavor than to color it green?

Like many people I often relive this day in pictures the next day. Seeing what people saw and listening to stories from the day, often in a haze of a hangover. But rarely do I ever see a well thought about picture. Only recently did I start to follow some great photographers and they always put out great photos, but they are often from the sidelines. Very artful compositions, but always from the curb looking into the parade. 

So when I was invited on a ride with Engine 4 in the parade I jumped at the opportunity to bring sweet photos from inside the parade. I hung off the running boards of the rig, I stood on the roof, and even laid down on the bed, just to get interesting poses. 

The one I loved the most was hanging off the driver's side running board, holding onto a rail, leaning out to get a good shot of "BROWN" on the side of the rig and yet, capture the crowd all in the same shot. Some of them fell short, but some came out well. 

I am proud of this set.

Jesus Wept

Panorama shot of Our Lady of Peace from my seat *click to enlarge*

It's hard to say that I had a good time at a funeral. But when I say I had a good time at Dani's funeral today, understand this is exactly how she would have wanted it.

This year was to be the "Year of Dani" as she often put it. She had a plan to get herself together physically, spiritually, and professionally. She dubbed this effort "Operation Daffodil". The daffodil symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings. This year Danielle wanted to begin anew and bring herself back to center. With Danielle's passing, it looks like her rebirth and new beginning has realized itself. She completed "Operation Daffodil" this past Sunday, nearly a week ago, when she slipped the bonds of this Earth and ascended into the choirs of Heaven.

"Operation Daffodil" Thank you to Mary Anne,
a long time friend of Danielle's for
giving me this daffodil

You may not believe in this vision of the afterlife, but Danielle did. During her funeral mass her faith was described in the Homily. She loved her church, her priests, and all that came with it. The exciting stuff like singing every Sunday, and the mundane, like organizing a parish raffle. As I looked up at the ceiling, feeling tears coming, I noticed a small detail. The lights directly above my head, hanging from the ceiling, was swaying. I looked at all the others and they were still, but the one above my head swayed gently the entire time.

After communion Jim Donovan took the pulpit to deliver a eulogy to end all eulogies. Jim described Danielle's life with all the passion and excitement as a Browns game on Sundays. At times his memories shed tears, and within minutes he had us all laughing as he recounted fond memory after fond memory. He gave us comfort. He gave us closure. Laughter is the best medicine, and even as we all laughed, we still had tears shrink wrapped on our eyes. At the end of the eulogy Jim offered a prediction. Danielle was the biggest Indians fan in all of Cleveland, and now that she is passed he predicted that the Indians will win the World Series this year, because now they have someone in Heaven that can effect their game.

As we left behind Danielle's casket flanked with co-workers, friends, and family I took a quick look back at that light above where I sat. It was motionless.

Danielle had left the building and Jesus wept.

The Thankful Summer

Coming up there are going to be plethora of "What I'm Thankful posts" because as Americans facing a holiday many businesses, consumers, and retail workers either hate, love, or forget; we have to show how much better we are from the status quo and talk about how much we hate the Christmas Seasons because of its superfluous consumerism and show how thankful we are.

That is why I am doing my 'thankful' type post a whole week early. It shows that I really do care about those around me without a national holiday telling me.

But really, I really am thankful for everything I have. I am thankful for my wife who is supportive of whatever crazy dream I might have. I am thankful for my two lovely children, which if my wife has her way, will be getting a brother or sister as soon as I (or she) get a full-time job. I am also thankful for all the people who have called me, sent me texts, emailed, tweeted, Facebook'd, and more importantly helped he build on the skill set I wanted to create into a career somehow.

Since May I feel like a weight was lifted off my chest. I no longer had to go to a job I didn't like. I no longer had to wear a suit that I never felt comfortable in anyway. More importantly I was happy. That being said the lack of money, uncertainty, job interviews, and also hit on my credit was also not fun in any way. But with unemployment benefits, I was able to look for a new full-time job, but in the meantime I could build some skills for a job I really really really want.

My summer was terrific despite all the adversity, and I think that is hard to remember because the bad things were pretty bad, but also the good things were really good.

Laura and her daughter Emily at a beach on Lake Erie

The summer really started when my friend Laura and her two daughters Kelley and Emily came in from Boston for a week. There is something to be said for a family who travels from what is considered one of America's great cities to spend a week at what some consider a city not worth a damn (we all know I love Cleveland, but outside looking in, if you never come, you'll never know). We saw all the coolest places. The Westside Market, Ohio City, The Cleveland Metroparks Zoo, Rock n Roll Hall of Fame (again), Lakeview Beach, Melt (again), and even a dive bar in downtown.  It was a great time.

Hotter in Cleveland morning Safety Brief 

While Laura was in town I was also given a terrific opportunity to build on my on-scene photography skills. I got an email from the largest fire department in the area to take part in one of the largest full-scale drills in recent memory. I got to work closely with the PIOs from a few different organizations, media types, and even friends who I have worked with before. It was nice having being included with media, even though I am a blogger, avid tweeter, and photographer. I am non-traditional, but many large organizations marginalize our reach; it was nice to see Cleveland including us in their plans. This opportunity allowed me to test a few theories I have had in my head. It allowed me to see how the PIO world operated in a scenario and how they could leverage a photographer into their plans. Most of my ideas can work I have learned, and it is exciting to see if Cleveland adds to that. They might, they might not. But the opportunity to be as close as I was is something you can't forget.

Fire Academy Student (Left) and Instructor venting roof of house

Even before this exercise I was expanding my chops for on-scene photography when my mom called me and said, rather loudly into my ear, "They're burning today!" She was talking about a house set for demolition on Lake Rd. near her home. The owner, instead of tearing it down to build his new house, he donated it to the Tri-C Fire Academy for a live fire exercise. I had no clue who was running it, I had no clue what to expect, so I packed my camera and batteries and headed to the scene. I got there as they were tapping the hydrant. I hadn't missed the fires. I spoke with the cop on duty and handed him my card and said, "I'd love to see if I can come on-scene to shoot this" The cop being one of the coolest cops ever was appreciative of me asking. So he sent a student firefighter up to the command post and minutes later he came back, with a fire chief. He asked what I wanted to do, I explained I want to get as close as you'll let me. I name dropped a bunch of people that I worked with before and in the off chance this guy knew them and called them, they wouldn't laugh me off scene. Come to find out they let me on-scene. I got to get closer than the local media, and I proved more concepts of on-scene photography. Mainly a photographer can be a second set of eyes for the safety officer. To an untrained or uninitiated photographer, many missteps can be missed. I was lucky to have as much time in training as some firefighters.

It's hard to believe it gets better but it does; but it will have to wait for another post.

In This Together

I have been blogging since 2004 when I wrote a private blog in the now ghost town of myspace. A tradition it seems is that I spend some time reflecting on the presidential election the day after a winner is called. Kind of a way to write down my feelings so I know how I felt when I learned the outcome. My post 4 years ago was filled with naivety that comes with having a good paying job, recently newlywed, and trying to have a baby. It is funny to go back and look at it. I know exactly how I felt, and oh how things have changed.

Today is much different. Before writing this post, I sent resumes to several potential employers hoping that one of them will get serious about hiring someone. This election, I don't sit on the lofty perch of employment. I don't have the security blanket of a paycheck in a couple of weeks. I am faced with a reality that I have a very qualified wife who is terrific at what she does, who works her butt off at a job she doesn't like most days, who can't get a job interview for a better job despite her college degree because she is in that catch 22 situation. They want experience, but no one wants to give her a chance for her to gain new experience. I am faced with the reality that for the first time I am not the major bread-winner in the house.

I can tell you this. You will not find a harder working person on the planet than my wife. I am in awe of her. She is the only person I know who worked nearly full-time, went to school nearly full-time, was a mother nearly full-time and still had a smile on her face when I came home and told her I lost my job. She is the only woman I can imagine that wouldn't leave me immediately upon my arrival home. To be honest I am still nervous about that aspect with every week I have to collect unemployment.

I have been humbled by my wife and last night when we sat up watching the returns, she was upset. Upset that no matter the outcome of the election, we still didn't have jobs that created the lifestyle we saw for ourselves. We were still living paycheck to paycheck. We don't own our home and every month that dream gets further in the distance.

My wife said last night, "There are no options for us. We didn't come from a poor family, we didn't come from a rich family, and we didn't serve the military. There are no options for people who worked their ass off to get through college and are struggling right now." This sums up how I feel too. It feels that if you came from a poor family there are programs to get a free education, and if you came from a rich family they paid for your education, serve in the military and you get college via the GI Bill and the ability to enter the workforce as a college graduate with ZERO college debt.

I feel marginalized. I feel like despite our best intentions we (me and my family, not the country as a whole) are at a fork in the road; to the left is a welfare state which we qualify for and to the right is the fantasy land of a prosperous future that is shoved down our throats by our politicians, but rarely reaps the rewards promised to us.

The answer to our problems is not the partisan bickering that comes with a political campaign. The answer is somewhere in the middle of the rhetoric. It is a Republican looking at a Democrat and asking, "how do we get this done?" It is a Democrat looking at a Republican and asking, "How can we work together to do this?" It is both parties looking at a 3rd party candidate and taking them seriously and respecting their ideas, because most 3rd party politicians have answers that are the center. It is making companies feel comfortable to hire people and take chances again.

It has been almost 6 months since I lost my job. It has been 11 months since Jenn graduated college. I feel lost in a sea of uncertainty. I don't want a hand out. I want a hand up. I want an opportunity to prove that I can do any job I apply for. I want someone to start thinking like an American again and start taking chances on someone who may not fit their mold exactly.

I am optimistic despite our situation. I know exactly what I want to do with my life. I have spent the summer trying to blaze my trail and stand out. This week, let's hope that with this election over, things start to break loose for me, my family, and for you too.

This is not the fault of Republicans, Democrats, red states, blue states and this post isn't designed to put blame on anyone. This is to remind us that our collective eyes are off the ball. We stopped believing in our neighbors. We forgot.

We are all in this together.

Inside the Zombie Apocalypse

Somewhere in Cleveland, Ohio 4 days after Hurricane Sandy hits Northeast Ohio - You can smell the stale coffee in the air, the coffee machine has been running continuously since Monday morning. Public Information Officers (PIO) from various agencies are huddled over their laptops, fingers curled on the keys punching out messages for the general public. Cleveland Public Power is working on a piece about downed power lines. The mayor's office is monitoring their social media feeds. The Department of Public Safety is on the phone with the Fire Chief getting a report on what they are seeing. They are all collaborating together keep the message consistent. It is about quality, and volume. 5 voices are better than 1. This is all happening in real time at the Joint Information Center (JIC). These are the PR people of public service. Their job is to get information to all forms of media.

Press releases are sent to traditional media outlets, PIOs are engaging followers on twitter to monitor and disseminate information to those who are tuned in on social media. All of this is just one cog in the machine of public information. It gets bigger. 

Down the hall lined with photos of SWAT equipment is an even bigger room. Huge projection monitors are at the head of the room. One has an internal program to share information across agencies, the other the local news. On the left wall is another local newscast, on the right wall, CNN. This room is nearly empty except for a member of the Red Cross working her phone and checking in  on the various shelters scattered across the region. 

There is still a lot of work to be done, but everyone's left for a short few hours to take a shower at home, kiss their husbands and wives, and then will head back and continue to monitor the situations across the city. Where are power crews needed? Do we need to shift assets to a certain part of the city for security? What new crisis has come up that need to be dealt with?

When you are watching the news and you hear them say, "Officials say..." this is the room where all those "officials" craft what we are hearing, seeing, and even feeling. If there is a situation, they are on it and trying to solve what ever problem has come up. 

These are the silent partners of our safety. These are the unsung heroes that work late into the night working together to solve problems to help the boots on the ground. No one is in the EOC and working the JIC unless they can get things done. They are all decision makers, policy makers, and doers. The power outage on W 54th and the power outage on E 72nd, only enough crews to fix one, this is where the hard choices are made. 

The Zombie Apocalypse

Cleveland, Ohio skyline from Edgewater Park © acgercak

It felt like the zombie apocalypse. The streets were empty and flooded in some places and trees were across the roads with power lines tangled among the mess. Power was out all over and you could smell the fires in fireplaces as people try and keep warm.

So what happened? I live in Cleveland, Ohio which is close to 500 miles West of Ocean City, NJ where Hurricane/Super storm/Frankenstorm Sandy made landfall. This storm was unlike anything I have ever seen or experienced before, and this from a guy who spent a year in Tornado Alley. In Cleveland, winds off the lake are nothing new, but the velocity and duration of the winds we got were unreal, and to a emergency junkie like me, something completely awesome.

When the storm started to hit Monday morning, I grabbed my camera, got some drinking water into the fridge and set out with my friend Patrick to try and get photos of the predicted 15-20 foot swells on Lake Erie. I have lived on the lake for years, never have I seen waves that large on the lake. I had to see it.

Veteran's Memorial Park Avon Lake, Ohio 

We made our way to Avon Lake, Ohio which is 18 miles West of Cleveland to start the adventure. Avon Lake was the western edge of the large wave zone. So I figured starting out and moving in would be the best. As I stood on a 10 foot cliff over looking the lake, I was getting battered with spray as the waves crashed onto the cliffs and sprayed all over the place. The waves were large, but nothing that I haven't seen before having grown up here and body surfed these waves.

Satisfied, we moved East to Huntington Beach in Bay Village, Ohio in hopes of larger waves. We got all the way down to the beach before seeing siding ripped off the tower of the ice cream stand. The waves were larger here. The rain stung our face from the howling winds. And this was at the very beginning of the storm. I could only imagine what was on the way.

Huntington Beach Bay Village, Ohio

After we were done there, we met up with a couple of friends, George and Mandy Gomez; both are adventurous and wanted to see the lake as well. As we made our way East the wind picked up and started moving the car around as we drove. The next stop was Edgewater Park in Cleveland. From there I could get a perspective of the lake and the city. I was there 5 days earlier at sunrise; Monday was much different.

Through the greyish haze you could make out the city. In the big surf on the beach there was a kite surfer. Unreal when you look at it all. We made our way down to the beach and there we saw it littered with surf boards and people in full wet suits getting ready to surf Cleveland. Again these waves were small compared to what was on the way. I put these waves at 8-12 feet at times.

Our last stop of the day was the E. 55th St. marina. At this location there isn't a beach to absorb the energy of the waves and they crash directly into the break wall just feet from I-90. In Cleveland this is where the big waves were. Like Banzai Pipeline on Oahu, HI; E. 55th was the place to see the big ones.

Waves at E55th St Marina Cleveland, Ohio

 The parking lot was packed with curious people. We all wanted to capture and experience the waves, the spray, and the wind. A hurricane in Cleveland is rare, we all wanted a piece. Again this is all before the big winds of the storm were coming. I looked at the waves crash, made a few frames, then George said, we should go out to that walk way that runs along the Shoreway for a different perspective. I was, at first, a little gun shy about going out there. The waves were crashing almost over the walkway, we would be sitting ducks, but we went any way.

In the end, that is where I got a different perspective. The waves would crash on the dock and roll up the break wall rocks and drench our feet. I got a few more frames, and we headed home. The worst was still yet to come and we didn't want to get caught in it.

View from the walkway along the Shoreway Cleveland, Ohio

Around 8 o'clock that night, the winds really started to pick up. I heard trees bending in the wind. Around 11:00 I lost power and we were in the dark. We were prepared, and honestly we were expecting power to be lost a lot sooner than it did. The next morning we got up to scope out the damage around town, and because we didn't have power, stopped at McDonald's for breakfast and news. My mom asked that I call my Grandma and check on her. Instead we made the drive out there. I checked her foundation and made sure it wasn't leaking, checked her sump pump which was on battery back-up was still functioning, and her siding is still on the house.

I walked up and down the street to see what I could see. Just south of her house there was 4 downed trees, one on a house. To the north there was a power line in the road that had been closed. Around a little street called Coveland, which is right on Lake Erie there was a tree across power lines, trees on cars, houses, bushes missing, decking in the water, and waves crashing so hard on the cliffs that you could feel them thump at your feet.

Despite the damage, we dodged a bullet. We got hit, and hit hard, but because much of us were prepared and ready, there were not any deaths associated with the storm in Cleveland and there wasn't widespread flooding. Most of us were inconvenienced by no power, unlike the East coast where there is no power and also a lot of no houses, no cars, and a crane dangling hundreds of feet in the air.

Coveland Dr. Avon Lake, Ohio

Cleveland didn't have it bad, but we got through it thanks to great info from Emergency Management folks and spot on reporting from local TV and radio stations.

G Squared Studio

Well we are nearly through our first month and we have had some great help getting things rolling. I am not sure what the typical traffic to most Etsy shops are, but I feel we have gotten a good sum of visitors thanks to you.

We have gotten messages from users that think our products are brilliant and are important. I feel terrific that our photos have made an impression. This gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, this can be successful. Christmas is coming up, and now I understand why Wal-Mart and every other box store starts pushing it early. Doesn't make it right, but at least I understand better.

Jenn and I are passionate about what we do and I hope that comes out in our work, but that first sale is elusive. We are ready to fill orders and we are hoping we break that ice soon. I know so many people who have found success on Etsy, and I hope I can take what they have taught me and run with it.

Our next steps are to try and add more items, a specific blog, and then a website. Our little shop is just the beginning for us.

If you haven't been to the shop, check it out. If you'd like to buy something, we'll throw in shipping. Use coupon code: SHIPIT at check out.

Start Up

I was up all night. My wife would say I was sleeping, but I was awake. I had ideas running through my head. Ideas for video shorts. Ideas for photo shoots. Ideas for so many things. I couldn't quiet those voices. Just as they about shut up for the night was when my wife snuggled into my section of the bed and pushed me out.

I guess crap rolls downhill. I got up and saw that the three year old was pushing her into me and me into the abyss. I gave up and got up. 

I guess this was the perfect metaphor for what I have done. I had a idea, a big idea, but it needed money. So my wife helped me take that idea, scale into smaller bite size chucks to achieve a larger goal; proving my theory that behind every good man is an even better woman. All of it so that I can provide for the little monsters that we call kids. 

Last night our little internet shop opened to a little fanfare, I tweeted a few links, put some stuff on Facebook and people came and viewed the shop. It is a leap of faith I never knew I was going to do and let alone do together with my wife. What happened next was awesome. People reaching out on how they can help promote. "Send me a flyer", "E-Mail me a link", "Do you have..." It was amazing to see so many people rooting for us. Refreshing actually. One email I got stuck out. It was from another internet shop owner. "Why do you photograph firemen?". So I thought about it and responded back: 

We have photography that shows real men and women doing extraordinary things. There is a print of a firefighter in a smokey building. You can barely see him, but if you were trapped in that building you would easily mistake the hands that pull you from that hell as the hands of God. I have another print of a vintage fire engine with bright reds and greens that any little boy would want in their rooms. I think people relate to it because when we were kids, that was the engine we imagined riding in one day. There is even a print inside of a structure as it is set on fire, a rare glimpse into what firemen see and the public rarely, if ever, sees. 

These aren't just photos to me. Behind every frame I've made there is sweat, passion, and desire of someone who absolutely loves the job they are doing. You have to love firefighting to do it. That passion is what I am after, a photo is the only way you can capture it.

A friend of mine has a saying about photography:

"A photo tells a story...a good photo starts one." - Adam Watt 

This is the start of our story.

Stolen

This post originally was posted in Fire Photographer Magazine but I wanted to share it here as well. Thank you for all your support as always. You are the best. 

Cleveland, Ohio |9-4-2012 | 2240 hours

I just tore my best friend’s car apart looking for one of three missing bags. Minutes ago as we dropped off a fellow blogger and friend at her office in Downtown, she got out to discover her missing bag. Astonished, I got out checking the back of the car, which is the hatch of a Dodge Magnum. As I looked I notice two of my bags were missing. Not where I left them. Missing. Gone. Taken.

How did I get here? What the heck happened?

I am reliving this day in my head over and over again. I was up and out the door by 0615. I met with the PIO of the Cleveland Department of Safety and we car pooled to the Justice Center where I parked and locked my car. Over the shoulders was a blue and orange backpack filled with emergency munchies, change of clothes including my Fire Photography T-Shirt, a Cleveland Browns hat, and my car keys. Over my shoulder was my black shoulder camera bag. In that bag was a Nikon D3100, 2 fully charged batteries, battery charger, two class 10 memory cards (8GB & 16GB), 3 lenses (VR 18-55mm & VR 55-200MM & screw tight Macro Fisheye combo lens, two standard light filters, and the mount for my Tri-Pod.

I was prepared. We met up with the Commander of Navy week which has just concluded in Cleveland. The last frigate, the USS DeWert, was set to steam from Cleveland to Detroit for the next week. Erica, the PIO, Danielle Fink from Channel 3, and me representing Fire Photography Magazine were going to on the ship the whole way. I was tasked to take pictures and video to document the entire day. From cast off to docking in Detroit and everything in between; this was the chance of a lifetime and to do it in conjunction with Cleveland’s Safety Department and Fire Photography Magazine was something I felt very proud to be doing.

To give you a sense of what this magazine does; I disembarked the USS DeWert in Detroit and there was an Engine sitting on the dock waiting for the tanker to fill water barricades. Of course I snapped a few photos of the rig and the guys on it, and introduced myself only by my name and asked me who I wanted to ride with tonight. They told me they liked my work in the magazine and to keep up the good work. Fire departments read my work? People I don’t know like what we are doing? This just solidifies my mission and my decision to do the kind of work I do. To shoot the stuff I shoot. We tell stories that matter to the boots on the ground. To have their support was amazing.

With my two bags over my shoulder, my best friend was there with his car to take the three of us back to Cleveland, but first we were hungry, in need of a beer or two, so we asked a local for a recommendation. They recommended Slow’s BBQ, and it did not disappoint. Half-way into the restaurant we were joking about the crime in Detroit and that we should probably bring stuff in, but we laughed as we hate it when people say that about Cleveland and we sat down. The decision to not go back for my camera will haunt me forever.

We finished dinner and headed to Cleveland. As we pulled into Channel 3’s parking lot, is when we noticed it. Danille’s bag was gone, my camera bag with everything in it including the 800+ photos on the ship and on the dock was with it, and my backpack was gone. Erica’s iPad and bags were left untouched. There were no visible signs of a break in and we just stood there, astonished. We are now just another statistic on Detroit’s crime reputation.

But I stood there, blank, numb, and with anger so red I could feel it pulsing in my toes. Erica called the restaurant and our friends at the Cleveland Police Department. They opened their doors to help start the investigation and pass whatever they had to Detroit, so they can start looking too, that is if someone hasn’t murdered someone that day. They dusted Pat’s car for prints, got a few good ones and they took my prints and the prints of everyone in the car to eliminate prints on the outside of the car.

Their generosity is something I truly appreciate and the people of Cleveland need to appreciate. They help, they will help, and they want to help. I often work with the fire department, and seeing a side of the Police Department no one sees because they can’t unless something bad has happened, is something I will never forget. They picked through everything for any shred of anything we can get.

I might never see my camera again. I will never see the photos I shot on the ship, but the memories and kind hearts of everyone I encountered is more than enough not to give up on the human race.

To all that have helped get the word out about my camera, thank you. I can’t thank you enough for the support. That camera was my livelihood since losing my job in early May. My family has been nothing but supportive, and what is life without your family? My friends who have stepped up, watching the baby while wife was at work and I was on the ship, and then was kind enough to drive us home from Detroit. Last but not least, everyone at the city of Cleveland. Their support in my mission to capture and tell their stories is nothing short of amazing.

To all who have got the story out; Thank you. Really thank you a million times.

An anonymous donor has come forward and offered to help me get a new camera. I am still in tears over this kindness, and I will let you know once I am back on my feet again and shooting fires. 

2012 Cleveland Air Show

Photos taken at the Cleveland Air Show on September 3, 2012 at Burke Lakefront Air Port

Get Prepared -- #ReadyCLE

Erica over at CLESafety posted recently that she was at a conference and she was learning how to encourage people to being prepared. She shared a personal story; go read it. We can all relate.

 In keeping with this theme, having worked very close with a few local fire departments, I want to share my story, hopefully adding another voice to a very important conversation.

Quick trivia question: During a Hurricane warning in South Florida, what is the most purchased item at Wal-Mart? The answer at the end of the blog.

Be prepared. We all hear it; we all think about it; but rarely are we prepared. What does being prepared mean? It more than likely means many different things, but in reality, if an emergency happens right now, are you prepared to react? Something as simple as knowing CPR or the Heimlich Maneuver can mean you are prepared. I know both by the way. I keep my certification up with the Red Cross. If your kid is choking in a restaurant or not breathing, I am a good guy to keep around. I saved my oldest daughter's life twice just by knowing how to dislodge food from her throat. The summer is here, and thunderstorms are on their way. I too have a story about a tornado, and why when the tornado watches fly, I grab my shoes.

I was a small kid, can't really remember how old I was, I know I was playing little league baseball. I was spending the normal 2 weeks in July with my Dad out in Vermilion Township. He had two acres of property. It was great to get lost in the seemingly endless cornfields and pastures; also very very far away from pretty much anything. One day an early evening thunderstorm was booting up. The power went out rather quickly but not before hearing the tornado warning. My Dad and step mom ushered us to the basement rather quickly, but I didn't have shoes, a jacket, a flashlight, nothing. Just a t-shirt, shorts, and barefeet in a very very old dingy basement. I am talking the kind of basement that is just basically a glorified crawl space. It was a house built in 1890, it didn't have the nicest basement.

We emerged after what we thought was the worst of it. We ran outside to see the tornado heading away from the house and hitting the tree line on the corn field across the street. Debris was flying all over the place. It was about 500 yards away and moving quickly.

What would have happened had the tornado hit the house? I would have had to climb out of there without shoes to protect my feet.

Since that day when a tornado watch goes off, I grab my shoes. Last year when an early thunderstorm hit in North Ridgeville, I made my family put on their tennis shoes, and I grabbed the diaper bag, dog and leash, and we gathered near the safe room in the house; just in case. After the storm passed I knew there was major damage nearby, the scanner was going nuts. The house was secure, family was safe, I grabbed my camera and left to get photos of the damage.

Mostly out of curiosity I snapped pictures of a lot of damage. There was an RV that was blown over.  I stopped took photos of the whole thing. From all 4 corners, inside, and outside. Having a camera in an emergency can be an invaluable tool. How many times do houses blow over and stuff is strewn about? The City's job is to get roads open for crews to get into neighborhoods. If you can get photos of all your stuff all over the place, that would make filing an insurance claim easier. You have proof of what you might have lost before it ends up in a heap with all the other debris. With the shoes on your feet you should be able to get to relative safety without tearing up your feet.

Be prepared. FEMA has a great tool to help you. Use it.

Trivia answer: In Florida, the Hurricane preparedness plan has Strawberry Pop-Tarts in their survival kit.  Why? Because Pop-Tarts' packaging is water tight and has enough air to keep it buoyant in a flood. They can keep without refrigeration for an extended period of time and keep you nourished until a new food source can be secured. So when a Hurricane starts to head to Florida, Wal-Mart ships extra Pop-Tarts to their stores. (source: Business Acumen Training 2008)

Sunset

Living on the shores of Lake Erie most of my life, you often take sunsets for granted, but every once in a while you take pause. There is no other place I would rather live that right here.