Sunday, November 1, 2009

These pictures are some of the worst garbage I've ever shot

So it's a Saturday night, you throw a party, all your friends and a handful of relatives come over in a really good mood for dancin' and drinkin' and meetin' and greetin' and eatin' 'til closing time.

The night rocks on, the tunes get louder and some folks get to dancing. Someone bumps Aunt Mary's drinking arm and her Beaujolais gets intimate with your beige carpet. Half eaten plates of hors d'oeuvres are piling up in the kitchen, Jack and Jean from across the street (you know, the enthusiastic couple) dance the Tiffany Table Lamp you found at the Big Pine Flea Market last spring right off the end table, Cousin Joe's building the world's biggest beer-can pyramid out back next to the pool and somebody took a leak an completely missed the toilet.

Still, everybody had a good time and at the end of the night as you close the door behind the last of your guests, you know it's time to clean-up. It's already late but you're not gonna wanna do it in the morning so, what the hell, get it done now and sleep in tomorrow.

This year's Fantasy Fest was a party and a damned good one! Thousands of people dancin' and drinkin' and meetin' and greetin' and eatin' 'til closing time.

Now, by the time the last of the die hard party people gets back to their home or hotel, crash land and sleep it all off, it'll be noon the next day. So by the time they've all crawled out of bed, dropped a couple of Darvon and headed back down Duval for brunch and a Bloody Mary, to jump-start the day, the street looks like nothing ever happened the night before.

Somebody cleans-up.
We all know "who" but, under the heading of "artists, go figure", I wanted to see "how".


Actually some of these made pretty fair incidental still-lifes. (or is that "still-lives? I was never quite sure on that one.)


A small army of city dudes and contractors starts at Front Street and one block at a time it's the same pattern. First the blowers and the guys who break down the barriers.

You've got to admire their energy and Spirit! It's 4:30 in the morning, the bars closed a half an hour ago, the lap dancers have all gone home, the streets are ankle deep in trash and these cats are bangin' a drum and dancin' in the street.

Then they bring on the heavy artillery.

It's landfill landscaping!

Next come the zambonis. . .

. . .and the sewer sump pumpers.


Then Toppino's truck dumpers.

I've gotta tell you, once they get the heavy equipment rolling around, the sound gets profound. But 'Ol Sleepin' Zeke here never heard a thing.



Curb your Captain?

. . .and that, is the way they do that.

What's next?

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