search and rescue

shortages

This is a common site in Atlanta.

Gas stations have no gas. They designate empty status by removing the numbers from the signs and/or covering all pumps with plastic bags. When a fuel truck does arrive, there's a mad rush and lines form. Within a few hours, panic sets in and the station is back to being dry.

Weeks after the hurricanes struck the oil distribution in the gulf, we still have massive shortages. I tried to find a station to show the lines of desperate motorists, but the only one was miles away from Ponce.

I go to work and all anyone can talk about is finding a pump. They don't care about prices or wait times. They just need a little petro to get them through the next few days. Last week we were suppose to be over this and now most stations will restrict your total to $50 or less. Driving an eight-cyclinder SUV, that will buy you less than half a tank.

Our beloved Governor cites “self-induced" panic while still claiming there is ample supply with the city. The local gas magnate blames Sonny Do. The finger pointing continues while people shit themselves at the prospect of dying on the interstate. Frustrations are peaking. If it wasn't for the distraction of college football season, I'm positive Atlantans would be disemboweling each other in the streets.

My goal is no vehicle for the next three days. Run when I could walk, bike when I could drive. I keep my fingers crossed that some sanity will return next time I have to turn the ignition.

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Too long since the last update. I think ahead and try to prepare but it doesn't help. By the time I have a moment to do personal work, my body aches in a thousand places. My joints are sore from lifting gear or doing chores or running and I don't have the strength to sit in front of a computer. I'm officially in corpse mode.

To make matters worse, my allergies have finally caught up with me. The south is smothered in blankets of pure pollenation. I escaped it for almost three years but through shear perseverance, they found me. The infiltratrion is nothing short of excrusiating. It chokes my airways like drowned bodies clog the Ganges.

Taking pictures during allergy season is like trying to write calligraphy with a jackhammer. You pray that for a split second, your eyes were clouded just enough to find that sweet spot where something is in focus. I set the camera to F11 when I have enough light.

The boys at the scooter shop up the street are hanging a new sign on the side of Paris on Ponce. Business at their bureau seems to be booming. The gas crisis is still crippling the city and most ITP gas stations are either out of gas or only have one type (super premium.) Cars are dying in the streets and if you're lucky enough to find a working pump, you'll fill up on credit because there's no way in hell you can afford $4.59 a gallon in cash.

The scooter owners don't care. I see nothing but smiles on their faces and even though I shouldn't, it makes me smile back. At least some people can find humor in America this week.

corners

After experimenting with a few films, I think I'm switching to Ilford Delta 100. I pushed the last roll one stop to 200 and I'm pretty content with the results. I tried to follow the recipe of correct pushing but I was using a developer that Ilford didn't condone for that practice. It still turned out better than my F4P. Now I just have to find out who will sell me a bulk roll at a good price.

Besides that, there's not much to say. It has been either overcast and breezy, or hot as hell down here. Today was the latter.

cookout

The Open Door held its annual Labor Day cookout last week. The yard was full as 500 were served burgers, beans, slaw and plenty of watermelon. The community holds these gatherings on most holidays, which are always well-attended.

I was on burger detail and occasionally helped out with serving duties. I worked alongside Athalia, who was more than capable of dishing out good insults when it seemed my hands weren't keeping up with the demand. I promised her I would think of some good comebacks next time we meet.

The morning provided many good stories and I saw a plethora of familiar faces. I also got to see Calvin, who is recovering from his foot injury. Hopefully he's feeling better this week.

warehouse fire

The warehouse across from the rear entrance of MurderKroger on North Ave. caught fire early this morning. I didn't hear the sirens and thus was late to scene. By the time I got there the blaze was out, the cops were redirecting traffic and the firefighters were cooling off and shooting the breeze with the local media.

The warehouse was abandoned and all preliminary stories I heard said no injuries. I walked up behind Ladder 15 as it was hosing the main roof collapse, trying to extinguish any hot spots. I love the fact there's a box of donuts just sitting between the two firefighters on ladder detail.