for sale (ignore this unless you're interested)

Here you can see the rewind knob is a little broken. It still works, but isn't pretty.

Time for a new bag

This is one of those "the shit in my bag" posts, sort of. Way back when, I didn't carry that much, life was simple, and if there was anything I needed but didn't have, I could usually just do without it.

Things are more complicated for me now. I often find myself away from home for a couple days at a time, so the stuff I carry has ballooned a bit. For the last several months I've been using a "Metropolis" chrome bag (I've had the bag for years, actually, but I prefer smaller bags when I can get away with them). The problem with the bag, and shoulder bags in general, is that they're very picky about how they're packed- if things are arranged wrong, something's always digging into your back, and if they're full, they stick out and fit weird. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but it seems to me that when you've got a lot of gear, a backpack is the way to haul it.

And actually, the chrome bag is the perfect size for the hardware I carry- my cameras, my laptop, the cords and chargers, etc. But if I need anything more, say a jacket, an extra layer of clothing, and/or a water bottle, then there's just not enough room to wear it comfortably. This was brought home rather painfully this morning trying to bike in a t-shirt with a wind chill of 30ËšF. I made it from 23rd and robinson to 10th and broadway- about a mile, give or take some meandering and alleys. I could tell that trying to ride the rest of the way home from there would be a bad idea- a frozen matt mills can't ride his bike or take pictures or philander or any of the fun stuff. Beyond that, dying of exposure in the city with a charged cell phone is stupid. So I called my dad, and he came and picked me up.

I'm too lazy to make a list, and this photo is short my flask and some tools I can't seem to find, but this is everything else.

I'm a chronic couch surfer, a product of living in the burbs and partying in the city. That and all my friends live in the city. The best solution would be to move, and as soon as I have a job that lasts more than two weeks, I'm going to do that. (Remember: I'm available to photograph anything but weddings, even on short notice). For now though, I'm switching bags. Sorry Chrome, you're cool and all, but it's time to go back to my roots, a nice big backpack I've had for like 10 years. Stuffed very full, it'll hold everything I need for a week of hard travel- say, everything I'd encounter between here and timbuktu. As it is, I can put everything I need for a weekend of night parties and morning blogging.

The bag all loaded. Not too huge.

Awake and working after the party

Mesta park, rolling around, version 1.

Mornings like this one are why I started carrying my laptop in the first place. everyone else is fast asleep, but I'm up, can't sleep, and so it works out that I should be here, typing.

Yesterday was one hell of a day. I got up and made myself the perfect cup of coffee, Siracha coffee beans in the french press. Then I had another cup, the bottom of the pot, while I caught up on newsfeeds and twitter and all that.

And then this is version 2.

While I was chatting with Grant, I had a brilliant idea: convert my used cd's into a radio scanner. What use is a scanner, you say? Information about what is going on. News as it happens. Things to take photos of. This particular conversion was by way of the used record store, so I grabbed all the ones that were worth anything, and started to head that direction.

I got as far as my car, which I discovered was dead, and so I tried to start my other car (a mostly-broken mercury sable) and found that it too was dead. So I went back in the house, got my bike, and headed to the record store.

I get to the shop, tell the lady I'm selling if she's buying, and she takes my stack of cd's to examine them and make me an offer.

"$55?" the woman behind the counter offers, rejecting one. "Sure," I reply- it doesn't seem like enough, but I'm hoping to hit up a pawn shop and get lucky.



So the first pawn shop I go to, I have to explain that no, a scanner isn't the same as a CB. They don't have anything. I'm ready to give up on the day at this point, but as my path took me down reno towards downtown, I passed another pawn shop, and stopped in to see.

This was one of those slightly sketchy places, the kind that sells more guns and ammo than anything. That, and they have a large selection of used tools. I asked one of the guys behind the counter, did they have any scanners? He allows that they do, right this way. He one pulls down from a shelf which is mostly pistol ammo, a handheld that seems perfect. I turn it over and see the price: $69.99. He's gone off to ring up someone else, so I fiddle with it a bit, find out that it covers a ton of spectrum,and then when I get his attention, I ask him if he'll take 50 for it. He says yes, 50 plus tax, and so I say sold.

This was pretty much the entire crowd the whole time I was at Uptown.

From there, I go to fourth street and ride into the city. Beatnix for lunch, and they really do have the best hot roast beef in town. If only they'd get sourdough bread, it'd be perfect. I sat there after my sandwich was finished, and programmed in all the frequencies that the public services us here in the city- something like 35 channels in all. Then I have business to do.

The saga of the missing pictures continued with yours truly going to sauced and finding them still down, but Matty promised they'd be up by five, and that they were just moving things around, etc, etc. Which reminds me, I've gotta go back by there today and see what they put up, how it was done, and really if anything got done at all.



I killed about two hours then, playing with my new radio in the park. The thing I've heard on that thing already are hilarious and interesting and I think it might work out to be a good thing.

Dinner with Grant, Damaris, Timmy, Kolby, Erin, and this girl from Tulsa, can't think of her name, it might come to me later. Indian food, way out on 23rd street, really good, really filling.

Random dude. Every party needs at least one to liven things up.


Then it was time to go to the dance party, only there wasn't much dancing or partying going on at uptown united. For most of the time I was there, there were more people chilling outside than inside dancing. And I do mean chilling. It got chilly for this correspondent; I was only wearing a t-shirt, though.

Timmy, passin' out.

After waiting an hour and drinking all of my beer, The party still wasn't really going, So I left, back to rendezvous with Timmy and some of the rest of the gang; we met at Grant's, and then went from there to the former bike cave, where there was much drinking and cards and dice, and pizza and passing out also.


This was the pizza part of the evening.

The dog even got some.


There. That was my friday. Now I'm going to try to pass out for a little while.

4 hrs

4 hours sleep... moving the banked track with the RDR roller girls... five hours of bike polo. Can't think straight. So photos.

I know this is from last night, and you know where to file complaints. I like it.
Moving party! With some beer.
Polo break.
Sparks run? what's wrong with this picture?

Grant plays with his new camera.
Erin: