Gushing About The Wrong Hydrant

As fire hydrant pictures go, this is not one of my best. It's just ok. Sure, it's authentic, taken right in the thick of the D next to Fisher Body #21. But on Flickr it's one of my most popular pictures. People are making it a fave and commenting on it all over the place. Not sure why. I have better fire hydrant pictures. Like this one:


Even Vigo tops it. Oh well, no accounting for taste when it comes to fire dousing apparatus.

Firehouse

The city of Troy held the annual Fire Station Open House last week and we went to Fire Station No. 1 (The Big Beaver Boys, I kid you not), which as it turns out looks more like a luxury condo inside than a fire station. Big screen TVs, padded leather lounge chairs, and a kitchen Emeril would covet give the impression that when these people are not out fighting fires, they're living large. Which is ok with me, since they need to be sharp and rested in order to rescue me from my roof during a 4-alarm.

It was very cool, the kids loved the ride up in the ladder bucket, sitting in the fire truck, and watching the firemen dismantle a Taurus with the Jaws of Life. And the free donuts didn't hurt either.

Carbon

[JULES]
Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.

[VINCENT]
But bacon tastes good, pork chops taste good...

[JULES]
Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherf***ers.

Although I don't share that particular hit-man's aversion to eating filthy animals, I am nonetheless not a big bacon eater. It's a little salty for me.

But my lovely bride loves it and every now and then she gets a craving for it and I am more than happy to make some.

Ahhh...sometimes life doesn't come out as we plan. As you can see, I burned it silly. I burned it rotten. Super-crispy-plus, it turned into a black steaming pile of smelly carbon. Extra, extra, extra well-done.

I post this as a kind of public humiliation to both document and commemorate my shame. I have since paid my private penance by buying more bacon and frying it perfectly golden crispy the way my lover likes it.

So, now I am cleansed.

The Burning Bride

I went with Sandi, my photography partner, to the Royal Oak Chamber of Commerce meeting yesterday. It was quite an interesting experience. We rubbed elbows with small business owners and introduced David Wild Photography to them in a series of awkward rambling conversations filled with card-swapping and questions like "...so, what do you do again?".

There was a guy who owns five fitness clubs. A girl who looked 18 years old who owned her own law firm. And a retired GM exec who grew his gray hair long, donned a fur and leather coat and cowboy boots, and adopted a fake British accent so he could be a fashion photographer and see young girls naked.

The young lawyer's eyes grew wide when she realized we were photographers. Everyone has a wedding horror story and hers came spilling out at once. She had seen the work of a very good photographer who promised to shoot her wedding in the journalistic style. When her wedding day came around, the photographer that showed up was a grungy-looking man who didn't speak English. He was rude, clueless, and "super-creepy" in the dressing room with all the girls. And his pictures were terrible. In fact, the highlight of this poor bride's wedding, the event everyone still talks about, was when she caught on fire after walking through the spark shower. It was unplanned of course, so the photographer didn't think it was important to capture. Everyone else did though...

...except the guy who ran for water, otherwise known as the groom.

All in all it was interesting and I think we got a few promising leads. We're also looking at joining a Business Networking Group, they seem to be very popular with small business owners nowadays.

For now though, if you need me I'll be in the corner perfecting my British accent.

Cooking With Gas