Recently in Around Florida Category

According to a study released by CQ Press, Orlando rates #17 in a list of crime rate rankings (Camden, NJ is #1). What I find interesting about this study is:

• We didn't rank a higher crime rate in the nation
• We had the highest crime rate of any city in Florida.

So, in a way, WE'RE #1!

The next worst area in Florida is Miami Gardens (#35), Miami Beach (#42) and Miami (#45). We're more fucked than Miami, folks. That's quite an achievement. I'd like to say that we couldn't have possibly done it without America's first law enforcement power couple, the Demings. As Chief of Police and Sheriff, they've helped us step up to the highest crime rate in Florida. Well done, team!

Let's be fair, I can't lay all of that crime at their doorstep. Clearly, they had help. That help comes in the form of the MBI, the Orlando Mayor and City Council, the Orange County Major and County Commissioners, too. Every one of them played a part in our increasing crime rate.

What part did they play? My opinion is that it's due to their pandering to the family friendly image they'd like to promote for Orlando. That's why they've changed laws and harassed every adult entertainment business in the area. Without these places to blow off a little steam in a LEGAL manner, they've managed to drive that need underground into illegal activities. As a result, it's been a boon to criminal enterprise in the area.

Our MBI wastes time and tax payer dollars staking out topless bars and massage parlors (it's hard getting hand jobs at taxpaper expense). Our city & county officials regulate those businesses into crime-ridden areas and then complain how adult businesses attract crime. Just how do we end up hiring such incompetent people to run our government?

Police complain about guns on the streets, but yet they're part of the problem. There's an Orlando Police car that parks in my neighborhood every night (#7414) with both a shotgun and assault rifle visible inside. I was under the impression that it was against OPD policy to leave weapons inside a police vehicle overnight; at least that's what the news reported when Val Demings' weapon was stolen. I guess it's one of those rules that doesn't mean much - at least until someone breaks into the police car and steals the weapons.

Here's what I think. Our local "authorities" have squeezed their grip so tight that adults have no place to go but to illegal activities to blow off some steam. We didn't have a crime rate this high when you could get a lap dance and rub some tits in your face. We didn't have this problem when your local massage parlor always had a happy ending.

I guess we're still getting fucked, though.

I was supposed to head over to Daytona for Biketoberfest on Friday night with a friend, but he had to cancel. As much as I would've preferred to spend time with my friend, I was actually a bit relieved. I ended up coming home from a business trip at about 2:00 am on Friday and was still moving slowly that day.

As a result, I caught some great weather by going on Saturday afternoon. It seemed like a perfect day for a ride going the back way on 415. After turning off 46 onto 415, I had the luck of the draw to wind up behind a semi hauling a load slowly down the road. At first, I figured it wasn't so bad. I had no particular time to be there and a lazy ride up a back road could be a nice way to unwind.

Then it started getting to me. It was't the semi that was the problem; he actually got his ass in gear and kept up with the speed limit. It was the dipshits between us that didn't seem to know how to drive. They were looking at everything but the road, slowing down to look at grass, cows, and who knows what. Thus began my leapfrog approach to navigating 415 and a reminder of my love/hate relationship with biker events.

Some of the drivers were in cars and trucks, and some were on motorcycles. It doesn't matter to me. Stupid drivers who can't keep consistent speed, cause others to miss traffic lights because they aren't paying attention or having a conversation, or just suddenly stop hard annoy the fuck out of me. One after the other, I experienced all of these at least once, and some of them multiple times.

Since I was on my own this trip, I decided to make it pretty simple and keep to my traditional stops: Hooters for lunch (for the vitamins), grab some t-shirts at Boot Hill & Iron Horse, and a DQ Oreo Blizzard for dinner (for the vitamins). Given the traffic in town, I spent several hours doing what should only take one or two.

I ended up sitting at a table right under an air conditioning vent at Hooters. It was nice & cool outside, so I'm not sure why they cranked up the A/C so much. Yes, you need to run it because of all the bodies inside, but it was pretty fucking cold there. However, it was actually worth it. While my local Sanford Hooters can't cook decent wings, the Daytona store is consistently pretty good. I enjoyed my calorie overload.

On a sexist note, I have to say the quality of the waitresses at Hooters is declining. Let's face it, guys go there to look at cute young women in tight uniforms. Hooters used to bring its absolute A-list team to Daytona for biker events. I'm not seeing it anymore. Maybe they just can't enlist the same girls in the catalogs to actually slop wings around to tables. My server (Whitney) was pretty nice and she was cute, but I wouldn't say I had the best service I've ever experienced. I generally had to yell out her name when I wanted something.

Leaving Hooters to head toward Main Street was a pain in the ass for most people. Traffic was backed up on International Speedway. That's because most bikers in town only know about four or five roads in Daytona and never look at a map. Rather than slogging for the next hour or so in traffic, I took a left on Bill France over to Mason and was at Beach Street within a few minutes. That's when I remembered to be thankful for idiots. Let them line up in traffic and leave the other streets open for me to use.

Of course, there's not much you can do about Main Street. I considered just going over the Mason Bridge and then sliding over to Main Street, but it's Biketoberfest. You have to ride over the drawbridge. It seemed good at the time, until I got in the line of traffic going over the bridge. Then I realized I was no better than any of the other fucking idiots doing the same thing. Pedestrians walking over the bridge were leaving me in the dust.

The two bikes in front of me were evidence that anyone can ride a motorcycle, but that doesn't mean they can ride it very well. The guy would start to move and then suddenly stop hard, even though there was room in front of him. As usual, I started cussing to myself wondering what this dumb son of a bitch was doing. After a few times, I finally had to ask him, "Why the fuck are you stopping like that?"

He complained that his hand hurt from holding the clutch. Moron. I suggested to him that he could shift into neutral and just coast a bit rather than slamming on the brakes. That way he'd get some relief for his hand and I wouldn't have a surprise sudden stop. The look on his face was like he just discovered ice cream. Moron.

A lot of the traffic going over the bridge was distracted by a topless woman holding a protest. First, I didn't get a picture of her because I was on my bike in stop & go traffic. Second, I didn't get a picture of her because she was just an old, fat, ugly bitch with a nasty tattoo on her left titty. The women you see walking around topless at biker events are not the women you want to see walking around topless.

Once I got across the bridge, I discovered something elusive that I've never been able to find after several years of attending Daytona biker events - an open parking space on the sidewalk. Fuck these assholes who want $5 parking. For the first time in my life, I'm getting free parking!

Nothing is free. The price of parking on the sidewalk was to turn left in front of a seemingly endless stream of traffic and back-in, over the curb, to get on the sidewalk next to the other bikes. I managed my U-turn and got to the side, waited for an opening in the traffic, and then some helpful soul decided to allow traffic from another parking lot to come right at me as I started backing into my open spot. I think it took ten minutes just to park there. I passed the time with more cussing. Still, I finally nailed a free spot.

I made my way up to Boot Hill & Main Street Station. Bonnie is still serving beers out front, she still has great thighs, but she was wearing a mask to cover up what is increasingly an aging face. Once inside of Boot Hill, it was the usual cluster-fuck. I tend to like long-sleeve, extra-large shirts. Guess what? So does every other fat fuck at Biketoberfest and they got there while I was still up in D.C. on Thursday. Of the choices I liked, none were available. I still bought one that didn't have any freaking skulls or skeletons on it and headed back to my bike. I saw no purpose in fighting my way through crowded sidewalks on Main Street. I'll save that for Bike Week in the Spring.

Leaving Main Street behind, I rode along the river to SR-40 and then slipped over to U.S. 1. It wasn't too bad until it was suddenly jammed with traffic, but that's expected in this area. I pulled over to a parking lot run by Boy Scouts who were raising funds. If I have to pay $5 for parking, I'd rather give it to some Scouts than anyone else. I used to be a Scout (Eagle, so you know I'm good), so I can appreciate the fact that they only get the money they raise and they work for it.

Iron Horse is essentially a big dirt pit filled with old white people standing around drinking beer and listening to shitty music. I do mean shitty, too. There was some heavy-metal thrash band playing that most of these fuckers would detest if they weren't already on their 23rd beer. Of course, there is a reason why I like hanging out with these people. The first is that I genuinely love the sound of motorcycles. Not just Harley's, mind you, but all motorcycles. I've ridden damn near every kind of bike and enjoyed them all. The other reason is because there are a lot of folks that look like this guy:

With folks this fat around, I look pretty damn good.

Once again, I went on the hunt for t-shirts. Once again, the first one I found was sold-out in the size I wanted. Some guy behind me said it's because women like to wear them as sleepwear. I said I thought it was just because most bikers were fat. The conversation seemed to come to a natural conclusion after my revelation. I ended up asking a woman working there for some help, and she proceeded to show me all the "really nice" shirts with flames, skulls, and all the usual crap that I don't want to see on my clothing. I thanked her for her time and tossed those shirts back into the bin for someone else to fold because I was juggling too many shirts that she'd handed me before she left. Fortunately, I found a few that I liked and left.

Since U.S. 1 is one of the few roads that bikers know, I decided to avoid it and took off over to Nova. It had the advantage of eliminating traffic and passing a Dairy Queen for my beloved Oreo Blizzard. Between all the calories from that and the previous meal at Hooters, I was skipping anything that resembled a healthy and nutritious dinner. I headed home in the sunset on I-95 and I-4, concluding my day at Biketoberfest. That ought to last me until the Spring.

While most of us look at this photo and see a cute kid with a pillow, Edgewater Police Officer Myles J. Lawler sees a biological hazard. That kid could've wiped his nose on the pillow or or slobbered on it while he slept, contributing to a deadly cocktail that imperil's lives.

So when Erik John Batty tossed a pillow at Officer Lawler, it's quite clear that it was a vicious assault designed to bring our hero to his knees, potentially ending his life. Never mind that Batty was in his own home, in his own bed, telling the officer to leave the room.

I'm not making this shit up. here's a quote from the Orlando Sentinel's article:

"I felt the pillow was biohazardious material and could contain hazards," Lawler said in the report.

Seriously, Officer Lawler. Were you born a pussy? Do you believe your own bullshit about a hazardous pillow? It's my opinion that you're in the wrong line of work if you can't handle a pillow being tossed at you.

This case wreaks of the most serious crime anyone can commit: contempt of cop. I'm surprised Officer Lawler didn't stick a taser up his ass and smash his face into a wall. Then again, the man did have a bloody face in his mug shot. Coincidence?

I had to visit Clermont today. That's something I've never said before, because most people never "have" to go to Clermont. It's not on the way to anywhere else, really. There are normally only two reasons to visit this patch of suburban sprawl.

1: You are training for or participating in a bicycle or triathlon event.

2: You want to see the water tower.

I've added a photo of it to spare some of you from experiencing the sheer misery of driving to Clermont. Seriously, this place sucks. The roads are old, the drivers are stupid and there is nothing remarkable about this patch of land. If you've seen Walmart, Panera Bread and 7-11, then there is nothing exotic beyond those types of common chain businesses to see.

Before the place got overbuilt with cheap housing and mediocre businesses, this was actually a beautiful part of the state. It had lush, green rolling hills with beautiful views. Now those views are clogged with box-like buildings, most of which are beige. You know a place is really rockin' if it's beige. All the cool places are beige. Clermont traded green hills for beige boxes.

Clermont still has nice hills and is a great place for bicyclists, but most of the people clogging the roads at rush hour aren't here for the exercise.

More likely, they came for cheap housing. Sadly, they didn't factor in the cost of their commute to Orlando for work, because there is no discernable industry here beyond servicing bikes, being a clerk, or using heavy machinery to clog the roads. I've seen more dump trucks in Clermont than any other part of the state. This is where dump trucks come to mate and create more dump trucks, which in turn block anyone who wants to step on the fucking gas pedal to get somewhere before the next milennium.

So why did I venture out into this suburban wasteland? Believe it or not, it was related to exercise. I'm not interested in cycling up and down Thrill Hill, so I'm trading in my road bike for a spinning bike. I'll get my exercise thrills in air conditioning from now on, and the fine folks at South Lake Bicycles had a Schwinn spinning bike for sale. It's not part of their usual thing, but it worked out for me. The owner, Mark Marshall, bought it used from someone who decided he didn't want it anymore. My friend Niki somehow learned about it from Mark at a recent triathlon, and she knows that I'm in the market for one. In turn, I'm selling my road bike to her husband. The way this all worked out, I'm saving money buying locally, Mark is happy to sell the spinner, and I'm not charging Niki as much for my bike because I don't have to cover the cost of buying & shipping a spinner out of state. Confused? So am I, but suffice it to say that we all got what we wanted for less money than we thought. If you're going to be in Clermont anyway for the outstanding cycling opportunities, then get to know the folks at South Lake Bicycles. They've been involved in competition cycling for years and are really friendly people. It's worth a stop just to check out the place.

Outside of cycling, stay home. I've been to Clermont and suffered for you. You've seen the water tower. Spare yourself the trip out here. It's not worth it.

The holiday weekend is over, the crackdown is complete, and the statistics are coming out for review. Here's what we've learned from news reports at the Orlando Sentinel and Florida Today:

Statewide, Florida Highway Patrol issued 4,548 speeding citations, 1,928 safety belt-related offenses, and 98 DUIs arrests. In the Central Florida area, FHP issued 312 citations and no warnings. Basically, you got a ticket if they took the time to pull you over.

That pretty much confirms my thoughts that this crackdown had little to do with safety and everything to do with revenue. It's a money-making affair for FHP. Per the Orlando Sentinel's report, OPD said its officer's had discretion whether to give a warning or issue a citation. That's pretty much standard for law enforcement. So why didn't the FHP Troopers give any warnings? There's no profit in warning someone.

Florida Highway Patrol State Trooper Harley-Davidson Police Road King, originally uploaded by lapd5150policemotor.

If it's a major U.S. holiday, you know that the cops will be out in full force with yet another "crackdown" for those of us who have the day off. The official claim is that they're trying to reduce traffic fatalities.

Bullshit. There are two reasons why cops write a lot of tickets on holidays. It's because the higher-ups recognize that a lot of travel is an excellent opportunity to earn revenue, so they make all the working cops get out there to write tickets. The working cops are pissed at the rest of us for enjoying ourselves while they work. Also, they know that they'll catch a ration of shit if they end the holiday crackdown period without enough tickets. There isn't a specified quota (that would be wrong), but the supervisor will let them know if they don't have enough tickets from such a target-rich opportunity.

While I'll believe that the average cop would rather not work a messy traffic death scene, I'm not swayed that the reason for this crackdown is safety. It's about the money. It's about sticking it to you for any infraction that earns revenue.

So please be aware that you aren't paranoid. They really are out to get you.

I've been watching the news as our buffoons in the Florida Legislature debate the idea of a gambling compact in Florida. It's been a real clusterfuck. There doesn't seem to be a damn soul in Tallahassee that understands what to do with gambling, so they've beaten each other and ultimately given the Seminole Tribe exactly what it wants - a competition-free industry to run as they please.

There are those who claim Florida does not need or want gambling. It's a sin, it'll bring an influx of crime, etc. These people, let's call them morons, are completely insane. This is Florida. We already have crime. There are murders, rapes, and so many drugs that we've had major TV series based in the state to exploit the concept of Florida crime for entertainment and profit. We also have gambling, including state-sponsored lottery drawings, scratch cards, and driver's licenses (tell me that driving around here isn't gambling with your life). Morons seek to blame something or someone else for their problems without addressing the root cause, and gambling is a perfect scapegoat.

Aside from the state's gambling, we have plenty of parimutuel games with dogs & horses. Those establishments also run smoke-filled poker rooms. Then there is the casino cruise industry, which technically avoids the legal issue by cruising a few miles out to sea to let a captive audience try their luck. Florida has a thriving underground gambling industry. If you want a bookie, ask your next waiter. Chances are that someone in his restaurant is in debt for the bets he's placed with his bookie. Gambling is already here and has been here for decades.

The real issue here is not to prevent gambling, which has worked as successfully as the war on drugs or keeping kids from fucking each other in school. It's happening, so what we need to do is figure out how to get our share of the pie. Charlie Crist recognized that much when he made his original compact with the Seminoles. Now that the economy is in the shitter, everyone has his hand out for some magical source of funds. It's the perfect opportunity for the Seminole Tribe to step up and lock in the market for itself.

Our politicians are so damn greedy that they've completely neglected their responsibility to protect consumers from a monopoly. Instead, they've created yet another legal monopoly. If you want to do any gambling in the state, you have to go to the Seminole Tribe. For a paltry $300 Million next fiscal year, they get the right to choke odds and refuse comps to even the biggest player in the state. These guys must be laughing in their teepees over the stupidity of the white people in Tallahassee.

I had dinner last night with some friends who frequent Las Vegas about a dozen times a year. They aren't the biggest whales, but they have no problem forwarding out $50K to $100K per trip to gamble over a weekend. Sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. However, Las Vegas casino hosts treat them very well. So well that I've even gotten a few free rooms out there and I don't gamble enough to pay for Steve Wynn's underwear.

They own a business in Florida and travel the state quite a bit. When they played at the Seminole Hard Rock in Tampa, they asked a casino host to review their play for comps. The guy flat out told them there were no comps. Since there was no competition in the state, Seminole Hard Rock doesn't need to use comps to induce gamblers. Either you gamble with Seminole Hard Rock or you don't gamble at all. Then they tried the Hard Rock in Hollywood. A casino host there gave them all sorts of promises for a suite and comped dinner, provided they played at a given level. My friends played $41K over and above the limit specified by the host (Marcus), but then their comps were refused at checkout.

The lack of comps is only one part of the screwing that Florida gamblers will get from the Seminole Tribe. Without competition, they have no incentive to offer decent gambling odds. It doesn't matter if you're playing video poker or blackjack, they can screw with the payouts to essentially rob you of your money as soon as you put it in the machine. As with any other industry, gambling MUST have competition in order to offer the best value to the consumer.

Our Florida Legislature has basically fucked us right up the ass. I prefer to think they've done it out of sheer stupidity rather than malice, but the end result is the same. They'll claim that the gambling money will go for better education. Right. Just like they said when the voters approved a state lottery. Gambling money came in the front door and other funding went under the table.

If you want to eliminate crime in Florida, don't blame gambling. Blame the criminals in Tallahassee. There's more corruption there than in a gambling pit.

If you've ever thought there was no art in Orlando, the image above should show you how drastically incorrect you are. Fortunately, it's not the only example of artistic talent you'll find in town. The images you see here are all at 630 W. Central Blvd. in downtown Orlando, thanks to the Pintura Project.

I discovered this event because of Carolina, a face painter who decided to follow me on Twitter. Carolina was one of many artists there. She was painting faces (very nice lady, by the way). This is the kind of event I would've never heard about outside of Twitter. There are some pretty cool things happening in town and learning about them is just a matter of following a diverse crowd of people who happen to live in the same area. Carolina also paints at the Orlando Farmer's Market, so now I have a new excuse to go check out what's happening there one weekend.

In addition to the graffiti art, Pintura Project also had some DJ's playing and a bunch of break dancers doing things that make my spine hurt just to think about it. I'm impressed with the talent and acrobatics, but the main thing I noticed was that there were no girls doing any of those moves. Sorry, but I can't be staring at a bunch of dudes wriggling around on the ground. Women, yes. Next time this happens, please ask some women to break dance. I'll take pictures.

There was plenty of art on canvas inside the building. Some of it just blew me away, like this piece:

By the way, whoever modeled for that piece, I'd love to meet your for a photoshoot sometime. You can wear the same outfit (or less).

Most of the artists were busy working, so I didn't want to bother them. After all, it was a damn hot day and they were finishing up. These guys deserved a cold drink and I wasn't going to get in their way. Fortunately, I did get to talk to one of the artists, Know7. He showed me how they work from a concept drawing and then translate it to the wall. I'm seriously impressed, because I can't draw a stick figure without having an extra stick in an inappropriate spot.

Yet another nice guy. Seriously, almost everyone I met was smiling and friendly. Being a white dude, I honestly didn't know what to expect walking into a graffiti art project surrounded by rap, hip-hop and things that just aren't part of my world. What I found is something that I've generally believed - people are friendly everywhere. Be nice to them and they're nice to you. This was a great multicultural event with people of every ethnicity there, everyone having a good time.

Of course, a couple of the brothers did fuck with me a bit. After talking that picture of Know7, I was heading back up the sidewalk when a guy came up and put his arm around me. He pointed out another black guy coming up the sidewalk, asking me what's going on with him. The man looked batshit crazy and mean. I just told the guy that he looked friendly to me, and they both busted a guy laughing.

I don't know if this is the first time we've had a graffiti art project in Orlando or not, but I'd definitely hit up the next one that comes around. In the mean time, head over to 630 W. Central Blvd (between Division & Parramore) and check out some beautiful local art.

Back in the mid-80's, we started something called "Light Up Orlando." The unofficial beginning of the festival started with the Kumquat Queen Sashay down Orange Avenue, leading to City Hall (conveniently located next door to Orlando Utilities Commission). The mayor would give a speech about how great and fun it was to live in Orlando, and then he'd hit an oversized electric switch (branded with the OUC logo) to kick off the party.

From there, all the lights in town came on, there was beer and live music in the streets, and a lot of litter in the morning (leading some of us to rename the event Blight Up Orlando). It was actually nice to have an adult party in the middle of town. Like most good things, it grew to the point of getting fucked up and commercialized. Soon, everyone was trying to use the event to market something to the people who just wanted to have a good time. We got a few headline bands, but I think the local bands were a better draw for a home-town event.

Now it's quite the opposite. Instead of lighting up and partying, we dim down for an hour and let them meander meaninglessly around town for Earth Hour.

What the fuck is Earth Hour? You're supposed to turn off your lights and live in Medieval Darkness for an hour. Why? Ostensibly, to take action on Global Warming. That's what they say. Personally, I think it's a test to see how many mindless morons exist in the world to do what they're told and feel good about themselves.

Way to go, Orlando! You're turning into a bunch of sycophants.

Don't be a mindless moron. Revolt against Earth Hour. Don't patronize any business that observes Earth Hour. Go out and do your own Kumquat Sashay, have a few drinks, turn on all the lights, and say FUCK YOU to the politically correct sumbitches who want to tell you what meaningless bullshit you have to do.

When someone comes along and complains that you aren't observing Earth Hour, point, laugh, and ridicule the mindless drones. Have another drink. The Earth will still be here in another hour. Maybe even longer.

Just clean up your mess when you're done. We don't need to blight up Orlando.

Dottie Schroeder, catcher, shouting play ball behind mask, originally uploaded by State Archives of Florida.

This post isn't specifically about the Orlando area, but it caught my attention because I love photography and history. The State Library & Archives of Florida now has a user account on Flickr.com, complete with a nice collection of photos of Florida history, such as this one of Dottie Schroeder, catcher in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, shouting "play ball."

You can click on the photograph to visit the account on Flickr.com, or you can also visit www.floridamemory.com. Enjoy.

Crowd attendance is down at NASCAR races, I presume because it's a luxury cost that many fans can no longer afford. Ad sponsors are pulling out because they have to prioritize their spending when customers aren't buying as much. On top of all that, the Big Three automakers are in deep shit. You don't see a lot of Toyotas or Hondas running in NASCAR. It's all GM, Ford, or Dodge. If they sink, what becomes of NASCAR?

So that begs the question of what happens to Daytona International Speedway. Sure, there are some other races, such as the AMA motorcycle races during Bike Week and the Rolex 24. There are other events inside the Speedway, such as Camping World. However, the NASCAR races are the big draw. If those events take a dive, the impact upon local tourism is going to roll right through the community. Hotels, restaurants and vendors are likely to feel the pain.

NASCAR President Mike Helton is asking fans to support NASCAR advertisers. When has that ever happened before? Basically, he's begging you to help NASCAR keep its advertisers. This isn't for the benefit of the fan's daily life. This is to keep more sponsors from bailing out on a sinking ship.

Personally, I don't give a damn about go-fast, turn left racing. However, it does seem to be something interesting to a large part of the population. I guess when it comes to rent or racing, NASCAR fans aren't quite as dumb as I previously thought. I don't think that NASCAR is going to die, but it does look like it's going to have a major transplant if things keep going this way.

The shuttle is off from the very last night launch. It's cloudy out tonight, but that actually helped the viewing from my back yard. The exhaust flame looked as though it was half a mile long during the main SRB launch. It was just a big, fiery streak across the sky.

When the SRB finally dropped, the shuttle seemed to change to being a bright star that slowly made its way across the sky from the east to the north. The star would get dimmer, and then suddenly brighten up a bit. While the first stage went by shortly, it seemed to take several minutes until the star finally disappeared.

Damn, I'm glad I didn't go over to the coast to watch this thing. Damn traffic is a nightmare and it's hot enough for mosquitos out there. Some of those people started getting their spots at 10:00 am this morning.

That's a lot of attention for a space truck that's delivering a recycling system that allows astronauts to drink their own urine. It's the new Tang.

Forget the Orlando Magic and the playoffs. Those guys are just professional entertainers. If you want real sports, you have to watch real athletes who compete because it's in their soul. That's what I did this weekend at Disney's Wide World of Sports and the Magic Kingdom. It reminded me of my childhood youth, before cable, when the only thing to watch on a weekend was either Ron Ely as Tarzan or ABC's Wide World of Sports. I can hear it now...

Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport...

The thrill of victory...

The agony of defeat...

The human drama of athletic competition...

This is Orlando's Wide World of Sports!

I first attended the Muddy Buddy and the Danskin Triathlon events last year due to my friends (below) competing in them and decided to go again this year. Let's face it, I'm not a big sports fan. In fact, I can't think of anything more annoying than the voice of a sports announcer. Fortunately, it's easier to tune those voices out of your head when you're actually at a competitive event. It gets even easier when you concentrate on photographing the event. I took over 1500 shots at the Muddy Buddy and about 500 at the Danskin Triathlon.

Both events start too damn early (7:00 am and 6:00 am respectively) and I had to wake up two hours before start time each day so I could get ready, make the drive down to Disney, and be there about a half hour before the start.

One thing that amazes me is how people find each other at these events. The Muddy Buddy had 2800 competitors. That's more than enough people, but then you have to add in all of their supporters. Let's just say it makes for some interesting traffic and crowds. Despite all of that, I still managed to find my friends before the race. Normally, you'd think that a couple of girls dressed up like chickens in bright yellow would stand out, but not at the Muddy Buddy. People are encouraged to wear some interesting costumes.

The Danskin Triathlon kicks off in Orlando every year on Mother's Day at the Magic Kingdom. In some ways, I'm less thrilled about this one than the Muddy Buddy. They do far more to restrict the spectators and it's nearly impossible to get a decent photograph without part of someone's head or hand in the way. This year, one woman who finished the race decided to stand right in front of me before the finish line so she could High Five the other competitors as they neared the end. Not only did I wish she'd get out of the way of my photos, but she also confused many of the competitors into thinking that they'd already finished the race when the end was still 10 yards away. More than once the crowd had to tell those women that it wasn't over yet. They still have to run over the matt to record their finish time electronically. Basically, this nice old woman screwed over everyone with her enthusiasm.

Still, you can't help but admire the people who compete. Keep in mind that the vast majority of these folks aren't Olympic or Iron Man competitors. They're your friends and neighbors. They may be old, fat or physically disabled. Some of the fastest competitors in both races were amputees. Maria Katz hopped into the water on one foot for her swim, she rode her bike without a prosthesis, and then she raced to the finish with her prosthesis. Here's the part that amazes me. Her swim time was faster than a friend of mine who won first place in her age group.

This is why I don't really care about professional sports. Those guys are just paid to put butts in the seats. They don't have another day job. They're literally at the top of their game and have every advantage to be there. The folks I saw this weekend were just like you and me. Some of them are incredible athletes, but all of them got off their ass long enough to work up a sweat and have a good time. You have to admire those folks.

Have you ever seen this car driving around town? I swear I've seen it on I-4 for a while now and it always makes me wonder. Who the hell would do something like this?

I know, it's a crappy image, but what do you expect? I was driving about 60 mph down I-4 in Downtown Orlando, fumbling around for a Canon SD800 point & shoot camera, it's starting to rain, and I'm trying to avoid hitting other cars around me. Still, I wanted to get a picture of this car.

Seriously, who owns this car and why is it so festively decorated. I mean, Jesus (no pun), there's even stuff on the roof in case a helicopter flies over it.

There are letters on the back, on the side, on the roof, on the hood, the other side. It's one big Jesus-O-Rama car. Apparently, Jesus is real and driving a light-blue sedan around Orlando. Maybe it's the second coming of Christ. Maybe it's just someone who has a poor grasp on reality.

There are a lot of people in the area who have faith. My mom is one of them. She has a tiny little cross hanging from her rear-view mirror. I don't see what good it does her, since she barely drives a thousand miles in a year, but I guess it's good enough to get her to church and back.

This car's owner is just way, way over the top. It's not enough for him (or her) to have a quiet faith like so many others do. This person has to cram it down your throat whether you believe or not. In fact, you're not allowed to disbelieve in the presence of this car. It's the Jesus car. You can tell by the rainbow letters proclaiming that JESUS IS REAL and JESUS LOVES YOU! Great. That's nice. Now stop driving 15 miles per hour slower than the rest of traffic on I-4.

According to the St. Pete Times, there's a new fantasy camp in town. Who wants to be a porn star? Apparently, at least a couple dozen people in Tampa this weekend who shelled out $4,000 a head (no jokes about big or little) to attend.

So what do you get for your money? Priceless information about:

1: Porn star pay scales
2: Set design
3: Lighting
4: Web site design
5: Your own hard-core porno scene!

The good news is that you get a lot of information and possibly a chance to score on camera. The bad news is that you don't own the rights to your scene. It may show up on a DVD sometime in the future, or just uploaded on the web. I guess that would be a hell of a thing to have show up next time someone does a Google search on your name. I can see it happening in a job background search.

"Mr. Johnson, I see you have some experience you didn't list on your resume. Would you mind telling me how you ended up in this porno scene with two midgets and a goat?"

Honestly, it's a smart move for Courtney. She probably realizes that there's a lot of money to make on the other side of the camera and giving these educational camps. it's common in many other lines of interest, such as photography or racing. People are willing to shell out big bucks to gain professional insight to a business. We've had porn on the Internet for years, but it's rising with sites like YouPorn.com or RedTube.com.

The Tampa area is a little hotbed of porn activity. There are plenty of potential actors in the area and the community seems to be growing. Given the mainstream acceptance and viability of porn, it may be a smart business move during hard economic times. If people can't afford to go out to eat, at least they can stay home and jack off.

Daytona Beach has a problem. Spring Break is in full swing now, but the folks in Daytona want to preserve their reputation as a family-friendly destination. The recent arrival of the Girls Gone Wild party bus flies smack in the face of that reputation.

Honestly, what the hell is wrong with the folks in charge of Daytona's government? The city is a tourist town, but it's targeting the people who are least likely to spend money - families. We're in a recession. Family budgets are tighter than a coon's ass. The only reason they're going to Daytona outside of special events is because they're cheap. This is not a way to build a healthy economy.

Learn from Las Vegas, Daytona. Cater to the sinners. Let the Spring Breakers party their asses off. Show some skin and make the place seem like FUN for a change, rather than the place where old & fat people go to bake in the sun and then eat breakfast at the IHOP.

When Daytona was getting its Spring Break party on with MTV in the 80's, Las Vegas experimented with family-friendly marketing. Guess what? It doesn't work. Families are worried about bills to pay. Families are boring and dull. They don't make for a vibe that attracts more tourists.

On the other hand, people on vacation love a party. Those college kids here on Spring Break come a lot closer to being the attractive person you put on a brochure than some of the people staying in your hotels. Attractive people partying in your town will bring more people, more money, and a better economy.

So loosen up, Daytona. Let people have a beer on the beach. Open up your nudie bars the way God intended. Try to realize that it's better to have tourists clogging your roads than to have empty hotel beds that don't bring in any revenue for local businesses. You're a tourist destination. Start acting like one.

I remember Spring Break in the 80's. Lots of skin. Lots of hot pink bikinis. Lots of alcohol. Lots of sex. Lots of loud music. Basically, it was a party/ That's pretty much all you need for Spring Break at the beach. At least, that's what I thought.

However, Daytona decided that was too much and wanted to crack down on all those rowdy kids. They pour out the kids beer on the beach, setup a temporary jail, and control the hell out of the Spring Breakers.

Except, things are wilder now than ever before. Two of the reports from WESH News spring to mind. A security guard hired for a hotel raped an 18 year old girl and then tossed her off a 6th floor balcony. She hit the second floor and survived and the rapist was arrested. Then there's the story of three kids from Illinois & Ohio. It seemed they detonated a 1/4 stick of dynamite on their patio the other night and blew the windows out of a couple of rooms.

Maybe the drinking and screwing around weren't so bad after all. At least then people weren't getting thrown over balconies (though some fell on their own) and they weren't blowing shit up.

I went to B.B. King's Blues Club last night in Pointe Orlando. The place just opened the night before, but I couldn't make it for opening night. Fortunately, B.B. was playing for a few nights this week and I finally got a chance to see him perform live. It's not like he hasn't been to Orlando before. It's not like I haven't asked my friends to go with me to see B.B. King perform in Orlando before. The problem in the past is that every single friend I've ever asked to go with my, those friends who seemed enthusiastic about going to his show, always flaked out and caused me to miss the concert. The reasons are numerous and lame. Tonight, I said "screw my friends." I went alone so nobody could mess it up for me.

I called the club earlier in the day to ensure that I could get a ticket. The lady who answered confirmed there were seats available and I opted for the $125 ticket. It wasn't the prime seat at the stage, but just a bit behind those folks. The price included a prix fixe meal from the club, also. I could arrive between 5:00 pm and 8:00 pm for dinner and B.B. started at 9:00 pm. I asked about their policy on photography. She told me that I should bring something concealable, as there's no flash photography allowed. I asked a few more questions, and I got the impression it'd be a hassle if I brought my Nikon D200. Instead, I just brought my little Canon P&S camera, which is much like bringing a cocktail umbrella to a tropical storm. It's there, but useless.

First Impressions

Once I got there, the night started off a bit wrong. They couldn't find my seat. The manager walked me all around the club and didn't know where it was. He passed me to someone else, who in turn passed me to another girl named Susan. Susan comped me a free drink and promised she'd make it right. It took her a while, and she mentioned giving me a full refund and putting me in a lesser table than I bought. I just smiled and told her that I trust her to work it out. It turns out they'd seated some other woman in my chair.

After almost a half-hour, they ended up putting me in a seat directly in line with B.B. King, sandwiched right between some of the fattest people I could've imagined. While that initially set me back, I have to say that both of them were are nice as could be and I didn't feel overly cramped for the night. A couple more rum & cokes came at me and I got my meal. Life was good.

These pictures are going to suck. Most people have these crappy little P&S shooters or their cell phones, but there are obviously some folks with their digital SLR's shooting with no problem. I should've brought my D200. Another opportunity lost because I didn't want to push it a bit.

Al around the club, inside and outside, you find traditional Memphis blues art like this photo reveals. You recognize it immediately as something a 3rd grader could've painted. I'm not sure why blues music equates with really poor painting, but at least it conveys enough that you're supposed to recognize the musicians depicted.

The Food

On a night like this, things run smoother for the staff if guests have limited options. I knew ahead of time that this event would have a prix fixe menu, though I didn't know what options were on it.

Your only real choice is whether you want BBQ Salmon or BBQ Chicken & Ribs. What the hell, I went for the chicken & ribs and skipped the salad (I hate lettuce).

I can honestly attest that the ribs met the definition of being so tender that the meat falls off the bone. That's because, as I brought one of the ribs to my mouth, the meat fell off the bone onto my plate. The BBQ sauce tasted like some kind of bourbon/BBQ glaze. It worked for me, because I didn't leave any ribs or chicken behind. The mashed potatoes were fine. The other two sides didn't really appeal to me. Just for the hell of it, I tried the macaroni & cheese. It was bland, tasteless, and rubbery. The cornbread muffin that came with the meal was also fine, but not extremely flavorful.

Years ago, I ate at the B.B. King restaurant in New York City and remember feeling disappointed. I was prepared for a mundane meal, but I think that's the case for a lot of theme restaurants. My meal last night wasn't bad at all, but it wasn't outstanding. If I were going solely on the basis of a meal, I probably wouldn't make the trip back. It's not that much of a draw.

For desert, you didn't have a choice. The menu called for a Bourbon Pecan Pie. I didn't have my hopes up, as I'm really not a fan of pecans and didn't expect much from the pie. Damn, was I wrong. They served a little individual pie that was absolutely wonderful. The portion size was just right and I loved the flavor. This little desert elevated my opinion of the offerings enough that I may go back to try a few other dishes.

Opening Act

The staff was friendly, the food was OK, and the desert surprised me. However, the reason I came here was for the music. The opening act is the house band, The B.B. King All Stars. These folks exceeded my expectations. The first two numbers were instrumental covers of some Booker T and the MG's songs. The band was tight and right on the mark. Four horns, two guitars, keyboards, bass and drums filled up the sound and didn't overwhelm by being too loud. The sound crew had to level out a few things, something I would've expected them to do before the show began. Otherwise, I had no complaints. After the first two instrumental numbers, the male and female vocalists came out to share some duets and their own songs. Again, I was just floored with the great performance delivered that night. Although I came out to hear B.B. King play, I was thrilled with the notion that there's a great Blues/R&B band in Orlando that I can hear seven nights a week if I get in the mood. This band is outstanding. Go hear them live.

The Main Event

This is one of the first times I can remember wishing that the opening act played longer before bringing on the main event. I definitely have to go see them again when they can play longer or for more sets. Still, B.B. was the reason I was there. His band came out, set things up, and opened the night with a pair of instrumental numbers. Once again, another outstanding band filled the stage. It's such a joy to see a polished group perform and they didn't disappoint.

They introduced B.B. King and he came out, as expected, to a standing ovation. People love this guy, and it was easy to see why. He's kind, talkative, genuinely funny, full of facial expressions, and really knows how to connect with his audience. He's 82 years old and his voice is strong and he can play the hell out of his guitar. He told the crowd that he's diabetic, his knees don't work so well, his head doesn't, either. Even so, he's still traveling the world and performing. Maybe that's what keeps him alert and alive. It definitely seems to make him happy.

B.B. shares the stage well, making sure that every talented musician on his stage has an opportunity to shine. Maybe he shares a little too well. For the first half hour, he didn't play his guitar that much. Although he opened up with a few licks to show his chops, he hadn't really touched the guitar that much. Fortunately, it seems that's just the way he designs his sets to let the band show off a bit, and the later parts of the show feature his playing as you would expect.

There's a more laid back feeling to B.B.'s show. The opening act was energetic and almost breathtaking. B.B.'s show is more of a simmer with occasional moments of boiling hot. With over 90 CD's and 500 singles behind him, there's no way he can perform it all. His songs ranged over the decades, including a very differently arranged version of U2's "When Love Comes to Town." There are some staged moments of comedy, even in the middle of songs.

In between songs, or sometimes during them, B.B. talks to his audience to share his thoughts, experiences, and humor. Sometimes it's a fatherly talk. He tells how he believes that women are a gift from God (and they believe it, too). He also laments that no matter what a father does, he first thing a kid is going to do when he gets on TV is say "Hi, Mom." Dads never win. Then he tries to inspire the men to treat their women right so they can go home and get some. Now that's a fatherly talk with a message I can appreciate.

B.B. King's show isn't designed to blow you away. It's designed to be a good night out with some good music and humor, something just to make you feel good. It worked for me. It also seemed to work for some blonde girl standing behind me. Somewhere along the last half of the show, I felt her arm slowly crawl around my neck (never a bad feeling). She was taking pictures of the show and decided to wrap her arms around me to steady herself. Sometimes she'd take pictures of the show, then she'd slowly turn the camera toward me. I finally tried to get a snapshot of her. This picture sucks, but it was the best of the bunch.

I have no idea who she is and I didn't ask her name since she appeared to be there with some other guy. However, she helped make my night complete. Even though I went to the show alone, it doesn't mean I minded having a beautiful woman crawl around on me. I gotta go back to this bar.

I originally posted article this on the Orlando Sentinel's Sanford Community blog:

Fear and ignorance. If you don't understand something, it must be evil and sinister. Fear and ignorance. What better place to teach this system than in Seminole County Schools?

The problem was clear. Kids only have a limited amount of time to go through the lunch line and eat before they get back to class. The line sometimes takes too long as kids fiddle around punching in their PIN number to draw payment access for lunch. Sometimes a kid forgets his PIN, so the line slows down. The intended solution was to use a fingerprint scanning device. No memory required, just bring your finger.

It would be a perfect solution, if not for the fear and ignorance of the parents of these kids. To many minds, fingerprints have a negative stigma because they've been used so long by law enforcement to identify criminals. They also fear the theft of their child's identity by use of these systems. Their fears wouldn't be so bad if they weren't so ignorant of the way biometric systems actually worked.

Law enforcement agencies have used fingerprints to successfully identify people for more than a century. Let's face it, police wouldn't still use fingerprints if they weren't more than reasonably accurate at identifying an individual. Law enforcement isn't the only use of fingerprinting, but it's prominent enough that people still feel a stigma when asked to submit their fingerprints.

Biometric systems like the fingerprint readers use in schools, or at Walt Disney World, don't keep an image of a subject's fingerprints on record. There's no way for someone to steal your fingerprint from the system and use it elsewhere to impersonate you. Instead, the biometric systems only store a pattern known as minutiae - the specific points on a fingerprint where the lines diverge or converge. When fingerprint scanners look at your fingerprint, it's only searching to see if those points on your fingerprint match an existing record. No other fingerprint will match the same set of minutiae, and you cannot use minutiae to build an image of a fingerprint.

While the parent's fear of identity theft from a collection of minutiae are unfounded. Their fear is from ignorance. That's where our Seminole County Schools truly failed. In order to implement this system, the school system should have educated the parents to alleviate their fear. Now the parents may rightly feel distrustful of a school system that didn't communicate details about a sensitive topic. As a result, the lunch lines will still move slower than necessary. Equipment and systems procured by the school system for fingerprint scanners will probably sit unused as a minor monument to tax dollar waste, all because of a failure to alleviate fear and ignorance.

A few days ago, I wrote a post based upon an original statement from Miceage.com claiming that the boats on the It's a Small World ride in Disneyland were bottoming out and getting stuck due to the growing size of the average American visitor. The concept was that the ride, designed for the 1964-1965 World's Fair, could not accommodate the greater weight of visitors 43 years later. It sounds reasonable.

However, I wanted to dig into this idea a little more. Were there similar concerns for boat rides in Walt Disney World, such as the version of It's a Small World or Pirates of the Caribbean here in Orlando?

I contacted representatives from Walt Disney World to pose the question and received the following answer. Although the Disneyland ride It's a Small World is closing down, it is not because guests are weighing down the boats. The boats are 43 years old and have had repairs throughout the year. Per the Walt Disney representative, the repairs had a cumulative effect to correct wear & tear on the bottom of the boat that essentially increased the depth of the boat. Think of it as one layer of repair upon another.

One of the questions still on my mind is how Walt Disney World deals with the growing size of the average visitor and some of the aging attractions that may not have been designed for additional wait. The short answer is that Disney Engineers regularly inspect the attractions to maintain a safe environment for guests. Many aspects of Walt Disney World were designed with accessibility in mind to accommodate all guests.

So what about the issue of an aging infrastructure and changing guest sizes? We'll have to find out in another post, as the Disney representative promised to ask a few more questions and get back to me with an answer.

Whether you believe that guests are too larger or the repairs have added depth to the boat, it's undeniable that Disneyland is taking action to correct a problem.

Orlando Magic fans are up in arms at the start of the NBA season this year. Why? Due to a string of actions, they can't watch 35 Magic games on the local cable provider - Bright House Networks. Local fans with Dish Network & DirecTV subscriptions aren't affected, so they're gloating - at least on game days when it doesn't rain.

Here's how it all unfolded. The Orlando Magic sold the rights to televise their games. Unfortunately for fans, those rights did not include any stipulation that the games would get aired locally. FSN Florida bought the rights to the Magic games. About a week or so ago, FSN made a deal with Dish and DirectTV to broadcast Orlando Magic games.

Bright House already carries Sun Sports, which has rights to broadcast 40 Magic games that will air on the cable provider's networks. Bright House would like to add FSN for its Sports Tier, which would add to the cost for subscribers. FSN doesn't want to be part of a tier, it wants to be in the overall channel line-up available to all Bright House subscribers. Bright House claims, correctly, that doing so would raise the cost of service.

So it comes down to whether a few Magic fans are willing to pay more to watch those games at home on a Sports Tier, or whether Bright House will raise the subscriber cost to ALL of its customers in order to carry the Orlando Magic games. After all, you know Bright House isn't going to take the hit on that expense without passing it along one way or another.

Personally, I don't care one bit about watching sports. Maybe it'd be different if I attended a college and had some vested interest in the game. Otherwise, what's the point? It's entertainment, nothing more. There's no way I'd want to pay a higher cable cost so Oprah fans could watch additional content, and I think the same thing about the Magic fans. If you want it, pay for it. Here's another idea. Buy a ticket and go watch the game in person. I'm not totally convinced that concept didn't enter the minds of the Orlando Magic administration when they sold the rights without a guarantee to have games air locally, but that's just my own speculation.

Now the town is full of sports fans whining that they can't watch their games at home on TV. Some will abandon Bright House and buy a satellite service. Others will end up going out to Hooters or Ale House to drown their complaints in pitchers of beer while yelling at the TV set. That's all fine with me. Just don't raise my cost in order to provide for these folks.

Pretty soon, they're going to be glad to get out of the house and have a beer, anyway. The writers strike is about to end the soap opera shows, so there are going to be some cranky housewives pretty soon.