Recently in Events Category

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.

If you're expecting to hit Downtown Disney for some Independence Day fireworks tonight, forget it. Disney must be trying to save a few bucks by eliminating the "free" show and only displaying fireworks in the parks with paid entry.

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.

I attended my first Pillowlando event today in honor of International Pillow Fight Day. I gotta tell you that I had a really great time in Duncan Park (the grassy area in front of the SunTrust building in downtown Orlando). Everyone was smiling. It was just such a great day.



There were so many thoughts in my head as to how I was going to write up this story, which pictures I'd choose, etc.



Unfortunately, I got hit with the horrible news that my oldest dog, Max, died today. I just don't have the spirit to write the story anymore, so I'll just give you a link to the photo set that I uploaded to Flickr. There's also a great set on the Orlando Sentinel, too.

My Pillowlando Photos on Flickr

Orlando Sentinel's Pillowlando Photos

I just read an article on the Orlando Sentinel site about a lockdown at Edgewater High School. When I was a kid in school, there was no such thing as a lockdown. However, things change. It seems that we hear about a lockdown all the time, particularly after horrific school shootings across the country. If there's a man with a gun near a school, they go on lockdown. I'm fine with that concept. Schools need to provide, first and foremost, a safe place for the community's children.

This time, Edgewater High School went on lockdown because two students got into a fight. Really. Seriously. What was the danger to the rest of the school population? A couple of high school kids got in a fight. An Orlando Police officer was "mildly injured" during the fight.

OK. Big deal. Discipline the kids, give the cop a Band-Aid, and let the rest of us get on with our day. Going on lockdown for such a common and trivial event is teaching our kids to be wimps. Who wants an entire generation of pussies that runs to hide every time something disrupts the normal flow or routine? It was a fight, deal with it.

Instead, we have a lockdown. Kids start sending text messages to their parents about it. The parents get nervous and think of the worst case scenario. They show up in droves to get their kids out of there someplace safe. Basically, everyone panics over a situation that doesn't concern them at all. This should be nothing more than an announcement over the PA the next morning, or some blurb in a note home to parents reminding them that kids shouldn't bring a knife to school. [The article mentions the officer found a knife in a student's backback, but it was not used in the fight.]

If I were a parent who showed up to get my kid out of school for this lockdown based upon a couple of students getting into a fight, I'm pretty sure I'd want to kick the Principal's ass for going overboard with the lockdown crap.

Remember when American's were tough? Remember when we learned we could face any adversity and still come out on top? Those aren't the lessons we're teaching our kids these days. It's pathetic.

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.

The Face and Body Art International Conference is in town again. Once again, I'm there taking photos and enjoying the wonderful people who make great art. It runs through this weekend and I'll post a fuller story when it's done. For now, here are a few samples of the work these people create.

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.

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.

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 was just checking concert tour listings on Pollstar to see who was coming to town. Orlando's Matchbox Twenty is on the Top 50 list with a tour. There are two Florida dates: Hollywood on January 25th and Tampa on the next night.

So what about Orlando? The hometown isn't good enough for the boys who used to play at The Mill? I think the last time they played here was back in 2003. Actually, it was a great show. They played up the hometown angle and Rob Thomas wanted to call the venue the "O-Rena" just for the night. They did a great cover of U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name", too.

Don't expect any love from Matchbox Twenty this time around, Orlando. I guess they've outgrown us.

Are the Las Vegas hotels getting so full of themselves that they're collectively killing the goose who lays the golden egg? It's possible. Hotel rates for popular conferences like the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) are astronomical. Hotel rates have risen 365 percent in the last two years, according to this story by Richard N. Velotta with In Business Las Vegas. Perhaps most telling is this excerpt from the article:

Executives with the Consumer Electronics Association, the owner of the show, approached the LVCVA earlier this year for a meeting with resort executives to try to persuade them to keep prices in check.

Karen Chupka, senior vice president of events and conferences for the association, said several exhibitors have had to reduce the number of delegates they can send to the show because companies can no longer afford to send as many people as in the past.

"It's crazy," Chupka said. "The rates have become astronomical. Some of the resorts are requiring a food and beverage guarantee on top of the hotel rooms and that has gone up by 365 percent in the past two years. Las Vegas is no longer the cost-effective destination it once was."

Chicago and Orlando were mentioned in the article as two possible alternatives to Las Vegas, since there are few choices that have capacity for the 140,000 visitors that CES draws. Considering the timing of the event during the first week of January, Chicago would be a bleak alternative. One good snowstorm could ruin the entire event for everyone. With Orlando's temperatures traditionally around 72 degrees at this time of year, my guess is that we'd be the odds-on favorite for a potential relocation if the show stays within the USA.

One event that tagged on to CES and has grown with it is the AVN Adult Entertainment
Expo. My guess is that Orlando's family-friendly image wouldn't go well with a porn expo. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to attend and take some pictures, but it's just not going to happen here. Orlando's power players don't want that crowd nestling up to the kids going to Disney World, and the porn folks don't want to fly across the country to a town that just doesn't have the nightlife facilities to accommodate them. If CES moves to Orlando, look for the AVN Adult Expo to stay in Las Vegas. It's a short trip from the LA area where many of them reside and Vegas embraces the Sin City nature of overused and scantily clad women roving through its hotels.

CES in Orlando would be a great way to start the new year. Unfortunately, I don't see any signs that the folks in Orlando recognize the potential opportunity, much less their efforts to steal the show away from Las Vegas.

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.

The night was sultry. It may seem like the opening line to a mystery. Perhaps it was. Thirty-seven women from nine Central Florida Hooters locations arrived at Hooters of Sanford to compete in the Hooters Regional Swimsuit Contest on June 9th. Each one hoped to advance to the 11th Annual Hooters International Pageant in Las Vegas on July 18th, but only two could qualify from this event.

The Hooters of Sanford location proved to be ideal for the competition. Many Hooters locations are either located in a strip mall or have their own small lot. Hooters of Sanford's presence at the Seminole Towne Center Mall provided ample space for the event and parking for guests. It was also the first Hooters location to have a full liquor bar, something most other Central Florida stores lack.

The weather cooperated by not raining on the event, but some in attendance may have preferred rain to the oppressive heat and humidity. Everyone was looking for some relief from the muggy atmosphere, including guests, Hooters girls working at the event, and the swimsuit contestants themselves who started the evening in dresses for a VIP meet and greet.

Central Florida proved it has no lack of lovely women in the area. Each lady had her share of supporters from co-workers, friends, family, and people who just liked her. Hundreds of people crowded the venue to cheer their favorite. Some carried signs or wore custom t-shirts. The women working from Hooters of Sanford had a little home-field advantage for cheering, even banging on pots when girls from that store appeared on stage.

Over 400 people from 13 different nations traveled to Orlando for the Face and Body Art International Convention from May 23rd to 27th. They were artists, models, and vendors all involved in the growing world of body art. The convention, started by Marcela Murad in 2002, sold out this year. There are other body art conventions around the world, but this is the original and draws people from around the world. Participants like the feeling of camaraderie and family shared by everyone.

It's no wonder, given the convention's roots. Marcela Murad started her career as a clown. She became aware of a growing interest in face and body art, and took the initiative to start Face and Body Art magazine. Later, she created the first face and body art convention by inviting her friends and colleagues to share their knowledge. The people at this convention are here to teach, learn, and share.

So why hold the convention in Orlando? According to Murad, "There are always international flights available to Orlando." Murad tried hosting the convention in San Francisco before, but ran into flight complications for some attendees in different parts of the world. One conventioneer also told me that area attractions entice families to visit around the convention dates.

Body painting at the convention often involves near nudity (all the vital parts remain covered), but yet it's done within a comfortable environment. People of all sizes and ages agreed to model for painters. There is no awkward sensation of looking at a nude stranger. Instead, you're transfixed by the artwork on display. Not all models were willing to shed everything, as there was a great need for faces during classes and competition. Some children stripped off their shirts as artists pained them with ripped abs or a Spiderman suit. One model posing as an Aztec Warrior for artist Dawn Marie turned around to find his girlfriend decided to get in on the act. She disrobed and posed for a nearby artist to become an Aztec Queen. I didn't stay to see if there was any power struggle. [Dawn Marie also worked with local model Kona, pictured below.]

Some of the artists have rockstar status. John Vargas of New York is famous for his calendar of models painted in World Cup uniforms, selling over 50,000 copies. Jinny of Montreal is the chief make-up artist for Cirque du Soleil special events. Pashur traveled with Brooks and Dunn as part of their Neon Circus Tour for three years. Christopher Agostino combines storytelling with facepainting to create a theatrical experience.

Artist Lynne Jamieson and model Kelly Virgone traveled the farthest from Werribee in Victoria, Australia to attend the convention. "23 hours on a plane just to get here," said a smiling Virgone.

Not everyone came from the other side of the planet, though. Local artists Nick Herrera and Edgar Garayua both provided instruction on airbrush and painting techniques for convention attendees. Orlando model Lori B patiently posed for both artists. A complete body painting may take three to four hours. More complicated works can take up to six hours.

WESH News just showed exclusive video of police capturing the suspect in today's shooting of two Polk County deputies and a police dog. The suspect, a black male with dreadlocks, raised his hands, lowered to his knees, and laid down on the ground. Five law enforcement personnel surrounded him with weapons drawn (big, nasty looking weapons). He was cuffed, placed in a car, and that's the last I saw of him.

UPDATE: 6:00pm

Police now say they caught the wrong man. They're letting him go while still on the scene.

Today is a good day to be born. First, I got the news that my friends Niki & Zoli welcomed their new son, Cole, this morning at 10:07 am.

The nice folks over at Sea World have a new baby on their hands, a 7-foot-long, 350-pound calf born at 3:23 pm today.

If you believe in Astrology, I guess this makes them both a Virgo. So what else happened on this date in history?

• 1709 - The creator of the first dictionary of the English language, Samuel Johnson, was born in England.
• 1763 - It was reported by the Boston Gazette that the first piano had been built in the United States. The instrument, named the spinet, was made by John Harris.
• 1793 - U.S. President George Washington laid the actual cornerstone of the U.S. Capitol.
• 1851 - The first issue of "The New York Times" was published.
  1947 - The U.S. Air Force was established as a separate military branch by the National Security Act.
• 1955 - The "Ed Sullivan Show" began on CBS-TV. The show had been "The Toast of the Town" since 1948.
• 1965 - The first episode of "I Dream of Jeannie" was shown on NBC-TV. The last show was televised on September 1, 1970.
• 1981 - A museum honoring former President Ford was dedicated in Grand Rapids, MI.
• 1991 - U.S. President Bush said that he would send warplanes to escort U.N. helicopters that were searching for hidden Iraqi weapons if it became necessary.
• 1998 - The U.S. House Judiciary Committee voted to release the videotape of President Clinton's grand jury testimony from August 17th.
• 1998 - The FDA approved a once-a-day easier-to-swallow medication for AIDS patients.
• 2003 - Robert Duvall received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
  
Welcome to the world, Cole. Stay around a long time.

Orlando gets quite a bit of convention business. It's an understandable draw. We have world-class attractions, plenty of hotel rooms, the weather is generally accommodating, and there are facilities all of the place. The Orange County Convention Center is one of the ten largest centers in the nation. We get all manner of conventions in Orlando, including the Orlando Comic-Con that's at the Caribe Royale this weekend.

If a collection of geeks is good for Orlando, why not another collection? I'm trying to decide if that's what I'll find if I attend BlogOrlando - an unconference of bloggers at Rollins College on September 22-24. It's a free event to discuss "blogging, podcasting, public relations, social media, citizen's journalism and other related topics," according to the web site.

The idea of a blogger convention within reach appeals to me. BlogHer '06 just finished recently, and I've been reading many of the articles people are writing about it, but I think I'd like something with an implied acceptance of testicle owners. When I first read about BlogOrlando, I thought this could be my opportunity to actually see other people who like to do this stuff.

Then the word "unconference" stuck out. What the hell is an unconference? Why do I need an "un" in front of "conference?" I've been to plenty of professional conferences, and I like them. Sure, conference food sucks. They make up for that by offering cool swag, like conference bags.

It seems that an unconference is the uber-geek's idea of cool for the past few years. Instead of having planned sessions with intelligent speakers (right), the unconference hopes that the attendees will do all the work for them (wrong). My, isn't this exciting? It's almost communism in geekdom. Everyone is equal, but the one with the microphone is more equal than others.

In truth, the event is really only one day's worth of informative sessions. The last two days are set aside for theme parks, and I have no desire to see Disney or Universal Studios (again). The first day is a travel day for people who aren't local. So the question in my mind - "Is this thing worth taking a vaction day?"

The attendees page shows about 39 people right now, including one woman who doesn't have a blog yet. Whether this unconference is any good or not is ultimately up to the participants. That thought doesn't inspire me with confidence. I've seen too open mike sessions ruined by geeks with an affinity for stealing the spotlight, and without regard for the audience's benefit.

Do I go? Ultimately, I'll go with my gut feeling. My desire to attend a conference is high, but this just doesn't feel right to me.