Lisa and Stan bought themselves a digital camera so that I could have a pocket camera to pack on the trip. Yes, I will also have my big iron, my D-SLR, but, for instance, at the dinner with 20+ other photo nerds, I will need to represent, and I don’t want to find a home for ten pounds of camera amidst the filet mignon and lobster claws.
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Gabe’s last day is tomorrow, so there was a potluck thing. Someone left a delicious pasilla pepper out, so I started eating it. This may not have been wise, since I just saw my spirit animal.
It was Jeremy’s birthday today, so the Keathlys and I piled into the old jalopy and drove over to their deluxe apartment in the sky. I foolishly neglected to bring my camera, so you don’t get to see their views or Jeremy’s very nice LeMond bike, which was probably more expensive than my green car plus a year’s worth of gas, insurance, and maybe even parking. Anyway, good times, bla bla bla. Jeremy recommended that I check out the Specialized Allez. Don’t tell Freewheel. It was on my list anyway.
I got to see the photos that Tor was taking, and he does indeed have a much nicer camera than I do. Also he did not get roaringly drunk and wasn’t too shy to take pictures of all the cute women there. Well, he probably knew them already, so whatever, shyness probably didn’t factor in.
The really interesting part was spotting Joe Scrimshaw in the background of some of the shots. Joe Scrimshaw!
It’s about foot sex!
So, really, I ended up having a two degree (or less) connection to four out of the five Fringe Festival shows that I saw.
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