On the Street

"Microbes! You may get my bodyin the end, but you will never get my dreams!"

Letters (to the On theStreet Penthouse Suite)

#1 Portland Cycle Rage

Nico may have sent thisto you already.

http://www.newsweek.com/id/149224

Hereis a video of a cyclist who got knocked off his bike onto the hood of acar. And in classic "TJ Hooker style" is holding ontothehood for dear life, captured randomly on video for all to see...

#2 Call for Entries

#3 Hold the Presses

Literally as I'm about to finish looking under rocks in my inbox forsomething that feels like a legitimate letter (no offense Tops, butthat 'walk across the aisle' still hurts) in comes this letter from JJ.

hey Mark--

wonderful

here are those two localblogs I mentioned last night

http://sanantoniodailyphoto.blogspot.com/

http://strangesanantonio.blogspot.com/

and our new RooseveltPark blog:
http://rooseveltpark.blogspot.com/

Downtown Highlife Approaches the Terrible Twos

In another month will somehow be the 2 year anniversary of the unfamousDowntown Highlife Bicycle Club last Friday rides. It's beenan evolving (or devolving) process, but the numbers are up and thespirits are high. Even pedicabs are now showing up. And to further emphasize this point, they can be seenhere in the right side of the frame, exuberantly monkeywrenchingdowntown transportation, or something to that effect.

It would be incredible (and incredibly expensive) but I wonder what itwould be like to hire a pedicab for the next DHBC. One wouldprobably have to go to Penners beforehand to get properly decked out.

The ride took us out to Woodlawn Lake. Though it looks like ascene from Miami Vice, we're actually not hauling ass across the lakein a cigar boat but instead are sitting on a weird floating dock. Woodlawn Lake has become a consistent destination, which isanother way of saying variety is needed.

After a turn up to Jefferson High School the route turned back to Fredfor an extended coast downhill, ending up at Angie's Icehouse. The jukebox wasn't working and here a mechanic rolled up thesleeves and dug in. I can only hope that Freddy Fender wassoon playing after we left.

One of the DHBC insiders had a connection to Logan's Bar downtown...sowe ended up at Logan's. Here, a band from San Marcos ripsthrough a metal cover of the Stones Paint it Black.

After getting lagniappes of Lone Star people became drunk on power anddecided to roll over to Limelight and NOT PAY COVER. It wasafter 1pm so the grey area was there to be explored. After some display of feathers, we all get in free.

I'm not sure of the name of this band. They were like bonusfootage. The headliner had already wrapped and they played amini-set in front of the stage. Their first few songs wereincredible instrumentals. The later few seemed like anotherband, but I'm pretty sure it was all the same.

(And on a sidenote, this was a foto taken with the 1600 ISO setting onthe camera, which looks like it was taken with a cellphone, which isdemoralizing considering the camera has some sort of Leica lens.)

Slaughterhouse Four

The Dignowity Hill Puschart Derby returned for another yearof family fun, and another year of soul crushing domination by LaFamalia as they won their fourth race in a row. But would we want it any other way?

(Foto: Fred Valenzuela)

Here are a list of possibly not very interesting audio interviews. The previous derby was thoroughly well documented. In thinking the same would be true for this year, I left thecamera at home and dabbled with the new audio recorder (though it'sactually at least half a year old and is most usually used forrecording the OTS Correspondents as they phone in with tales from theother side.) Anyway, somehow there are almost no fotos floating throughthe ether to link to. Everyone is now jumping onthe video bandwagon.

Judge Kimberly

Judge Mark Discussing Bribery

Ben Judson Silencing the Critics

Ed Refuting the NASA/Solar Panel/La Familia Industrial Complex

Trans Cheese Formers Work the Crowd

Carrot and Wine (Back atthe Ranch)

The UTSA New Media students held a group show at theSatellite Space at Bluestar, which is know for some reason as the Ranchin OTS speak.

Whereas most corners of the space where flowing with electrons, here inthe closet room, was this piece. If not for the blasting Texasheat, one could better hear the audio component. Alas, the roarof the A/C was too much.

However, right outside that doorway was this cleverly drawn stencil with wired! remote control.

It was a group show and so the themes were divergent but a general approach to how one receives media was the motif.

Papa Bill smirks in the background, while a world of colors floats in the foreground.

Without being completely ridiculous, static energy was another motif.

A set of monitors face to face and back to back.

The voting booth. Inside one could choose which side they wereon. Red paper and blue paper was available for one to cast theirvote.

Tokyo Olympiad

At the surprisingly well stocked video store at N. New Braunfels (justup a few blocks from the McNay) I found a copy of this obscureCriterion Collection documentary about the 1964 Olympics called Tokyo Olympiad.

Ithas to be the most astounding displays of documentary extravagance everput to film. Almost every conceivable sport is given sometime or focus in the film. It's in 2.35 35mm widescreen, which inthe scheme of cellphone video cameras seems like a lost world. Though the foley sound effects go overboard on occasion, forthe most part it's a large scale art film with a breezy jazz score,reminiscent of Eric Dolphy's Out to Lunch.

Of course it helps to have some interest in the Olympics. I canimagine why one wouldn't these days, but whatever spirit of the eventis left, it is completely amplified in Tokyo. Though whenever theStates get to hold the Olympics it's more of an internal debate as towhy this city versus that city got the honor, or more to the point, whythis corporate headquarters beat out some other city's corporateinfluence. But for the rest of the world, hosting an Olympicevent can be a return to life. That Japan was in radioactive ruinafter WWII can only set the backdrop for the delirious spectacle of the1964 Games.

The Beginning...

Racewalking...

Rifleing and Cycling...

CAM Closes Up Shop

Though the future of CAM is slightly flapping in the wind, littleanxiety was felt last night at the closing party at the Alameda. It was a signature Alameda extravaganza. Free palettas,corndogs, and frito pie were everywhere. The idea of CAM wasprobably lost in the middle of all this. Two years ago at theCameo there were awards and a feeling of purpose.

However, I'm not sure that really mattered last night. To havenothing would have been a shame. The music was loud and thedrinks were strong. It was a huge party and everyone there had agreat time. If everyone woke up with an hangover and couldn'tremember what happened, then that's maybe the best way to close CAMdown and let it be reborn anew the next version that comes around.

Crazy low end on the speakers made the front doorstep a moving dancefloor.

I left early around 11:30. Two finals that day had drained me.

Onward into the fog....

And so goes another week on the streets of San Antonio. As always, to be continued...