little lost robot

I was surfing around on Flickr, as I often do when I’m bored, and came across this intriguing robot-related photo. There’s quite a bit for the mind to process, being that there’s a robot out in the woods with fleshy legs and all.

I’m not exactly sure what the netiquette is for grabbing people’s photos off Flickr and reposting them, so here’s a link to scratchandtones’s photoset - which may offer some clues as to how the pants came off.

My caption:

“Meet STRMSTR the first robotic sentry able to navigate stairs, thanks to advances in android leg technology.”

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I went to the polling place in Greenville yesterday to cast my vote in the primary, only to find out that I had already voted. This was according to the amazingly inept lady checking voter registration cards at the front desk. Apparently the guy who lives in my apartment building that has the same last name had voted earlier that day, but the lady wrote his information on my line. “You both have the exact same name!” she kept saying, even though we have different first names and apartment numbers - something she should’ve been checking more carefully. Her solution was to just not let me vote and leave, so that she could help other people in line. But the slightly-more-helpful-but-really guy sitting next to her suggested I vote with a “challenge ballot”. My wife and I kept making comments about how this doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the South Carolina voting process, but the old folks behind the counter disagreed, saying “it’s far more secure than any other state” - to which I replied, “Well that clearly isn’t the case here.”

I kept making suggestions and asking questions, trying to figure out this but the lady just wanted me to move along, rather than acknowledge that she made a mistake and screwed me out of voting. I asked if they could check the signature of the person who voted in my place, but the lady said it would be “impossible”. Although she did suggest that I just vote in the other’s place since he voted in mine. Eventually the third polling manager came over and suggested the exact same thing, (impossibly) picking up the clipboard of signatures resting in front of them. The person who voted in my place was indeed the guy from my apartment building. The lady erased all his info, reproduced it on his line, and then finally allowed me to vote. After voting I went downtown to talk to the elections manager. He apologized for the mess, but pretty much dismissed the issues at the polling place with (and I’m paraphrasing) “They’re old and this kind of thing happens.” The whole ordeal was actually twice as ridiculous and confusing as I described here.

I guess I’m supposed to be happy that I got a chance to vote. Although in the upcoming November election maybe Florida isn’t the only voting state we should be worrying about.

Another day, another Edwards rally in South Carolina. This time it was at the world famous, greasy spoon diner, The Beacon in Spartanburg. It’s a perfect place to catch up with average working class people. You know, folks whose parent’s might’ve worked in a mill as some point - much like John Edwards.

It’s also a good place to bring along celebrity endorsers like Madeline Stowe and legendary action movie cop, Danny Glover, who was kind enough to pose for a friendly photo with us. He was really amiable, and if you’d like to imagine that we’re all holding hands off-screen, I won’t mind.

I’m not freakishly larger then Danny Glover, I’m just sorta standing in the foreground. Okay, I maybe I am bigger than Danny Glover, just not freakishly bigger. I would’ve asked him to pose for a Lethal Weapon action photo, but he already looked kinda worn out and his day was just getting started.

Maybe it’s irrational to hate a chain of gas stations. I don’t care. I have my reasons for hating Citgo. As a matter of fact, here are several of them:

1. Often the pump handles are broken and I have to hold the thing in the freezing cold, pumping a full tank of gas.
2. I always seem to randomly get the pump with the glitchy credit card reader.
3. There never seems a station around when I need one, but there are a hundred when I don’t.
4. I’ve been in some where the cashier is locked behind the counter behind a barrier protective glass. That’s probably a good thing, safety-wise, but it doesn’t instill confidence in returning customers.
5. They’re filthy.

That’s just off the top of my head. I’d avoid them altogether, but unfortunately it’s the only gas card provided for my station’s news vehicles. Today I went to one station that was just a notch more a”interesting” than many I’ve visited over the years. You know it’s not a good omen when there’s a sign like this hanging behind the counter.

Are they afraid of getting HIV or hep from dollar bills? Or is it a metaphor about refusing taking money from terrorists? So many questions…and so many signs! There were crazy ones like this all over the store. It was as if the manager just lost his shit one day and stormed down to the Best Buy and came back with an angry inkjet printer, went apeshit, and then plastered the place with passive-aggressive (and some just plain aggressive) warning notices. Read more

Did you know that John Edwards father worked in a mill? He did. Fact.

And that’s part of the reason the Edwards campaign holds many of their events in very old-timey, working class venues, like this abandoned peanut factory in Conway, SC. Sometimes his campaign people do dumb things, like not letting the media stand outside the venue and get shots of him coming off the campaign bus. But their location scout does a fantastic job, considering the latest venue looks just like a scene I remember from a West Wing flashback episode in which Jack Bartlett first campaigned for president. In a way it sorta feels manufactured, but it’s definitely a refreshing departure from all the clinking glasses at other (mainly Republican candidates) swanky fundraising events. Read more

While in the midst of shooting the events surrounding the Democrat debate on CNN, we took a little trek over to the CNN file room - a place for journalists from all around the world to watch and report on the debate.

We had a yummy dinner, ubiquitous internet access, and there was a “Bloggers Lounge” - which later just became known as the place where you went to get a Pepsi. We also had television actor, Tate Donovan.

Being a fan of The OC, I instantly recognized him, just as he recognized that I was sitting in his assigned seat. chowing down on prime rib. He and his crew was really cool about it, and while they strategized about their evening, I snapped a covert photo [above]. I didn’t want to be the creepy dude who wanted a photo with him, but now I look like the creepy dude who snuck a photo of him.

Here’s a shot of Mark and I from the debate stage for tonight’s democratic debate. We asked the CNN Event Press Coordinator (that’s a title I made up for her, as I don’t know her exact one) to snap a photo of us for the blog.

In the first photo we were having a “mock debate” and just before she took the photo, there was an exhausted sigh from her, “Really?” We both went, “Yeah!’ and went back to our mock debate (Mark was mock-winning). She then suggested we take a more boring> traditional photo, which is what you see here.

My wife and I used to get cheese filled hot dogs from the snack bar at Target. But that tradition ended as most Target store employees stopped caring about cleaning up the nasty little cafeteria, possibly in favor of making more cinnamon pretzels and generally lazing around. While in Charleston I came across the most immaculate and meticulously organized Target mini-cafeteria in the entire chain. Just marvel at the obsessive-compulsive organization of the condiment packets.

I don’t know what looked weirder: the ketchup packets all lined-up, or me snapping shots of it.

Somehow my last blog entry posted twice. Scary. I haven’t had a chance to check up on it though, because I’ve been back on the political beat. Last night found me down in Charleston covering the McCain campaign’s moves leading up to the GOP primary. We first caught up to him at a polling place on Saturday morning, and he got his ass MOBBED by the press. My reporter Mark managed to fire off this photo as the media swarm following McCain as he retreated back to his bus, “The Straight Talk Express.”

Seriously, I felt mobbed and I was with the media, so you know it had to be crazy. Want further proof that it was crazy? People in pig suits.

You know I can’t pass up the temptation to take a photo with mascots, even when I wasn’t exactly sure what these pigmen were all about. I think they might’ve been loosely connected to the Ron Paul people - not certain, though. I was sorta jealous that they were keeping warm in those piggy suits, although I’m sure they turned into big, sweaty rain sponges by mid-afternoon.
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