My Poopy Fortress of Solitude



I have a job. Yes I know you're happy for me.

Don't care. BUT I would like to tell you all about my first couple days because I know you just care OH so much!

I'm currently filming horse races at a race track about 45 minutes from me. I'm not into gambling, and I think gambling addiction is a sad thing. Yet, who am I to stop them from supplying me with a steady income for the time being?! Also, I'm not a big fan of how the horses are treated. I used to hate horses because they're big and smelly and one peed way too close to me and I once touched the electric fence and the horse I rode was slow and dumb and ten thousand other reasons. Well, horses are actually quite strong and marvelous creatures...so I see no need to whip a beast that has the sole purpose of running quickly. If I was that horse I'd turn around and be like "Yo sucka...I got talent...I run fast...so whip me one more time and Imma trample on that big dumb outfit of yours while you in it."

Anyways...I'm currently filming during the harness racing season AKA the boring time of the year. This horse track has thoroughbred races in the summer and harness races in the fall. Harness racing is when a driver (not a jockey in this case...they'll beat you up if you call them a "jockey") sits in this weird cart looking thing behind the horse while the horse barely runs. It's so slow.

Let me break it down for you:
Thoroughbred horse racing is to the 100 meter dash in the Olympics
as Harness horse racing is to a wheelbarrow race with 2 friends.
It's only fun when you're under 12 and don't know better OR when you're drunk with your other unemployed/drunk buddies.

Example: I was walking on the track the other day while some racers were warming up. I told the guys I work with that I was slightly scared of being run over and dying. Yet, I wasn't scared of being terribly and horribly killed by a horse. I was scared of people hearing that I went out like a chump by being lightly galloped upon by a slow moving horse pulling a chubby guy sitting in a cart on top of 2 bike wheels. Worst. Obituary. Ever.

Now you understand what I have to film...let me explain where I work.
Around this big race track are 4 strategically placed cameras. 1 is indoors while the other 3 are placed around the turns on the track in awesome treehouses. Oh sorry I mean camera stations. Nah screw that they're essentially treehouses. My tower is the front stretch of the track where I film the pre-race stuff and also follow the winner as they slowly gallop by. To get inside of my tower you've got to unlock the bottom of the ladder tunnel, climb up, push open the trap door, and climb in. Ok...ladder tunnel...it's basically a ladder that is surrounded by a tunnel of metal bars so no one can break into the tower unless they have the key to unlock the tunnel, and possibly for protection?
If it is actually for protection, here is my main argument that would slay them in court: If this giant cage is to prevent me from falling down the ladder and crashing into the ground, they're fools, because if I fell I would instead have approximately 289 metal objects to crash into on the way down. Thanks ladder tunnel for breaking all of my bones as I fall to my death. Cherry on top for sure.
Anways, as I begin to climb the ladder I realize: wow there is a lot a bird crap on these ladder rungs. Then I realize: wow I am too tall to climb this thing. Due to the small tunnel I hit my knees on almost every step up. So I swing my backpack (yes I wear a backpack to work because I have a waterbottle and I pack my lunch [yes I pack my lunch]) onto my stomach like a giant embarrassing fanny pack. I then climb the ladder, only hitting my knees every once in a while, but definitely getting lots and lots of bird dookie all over my hands. Yessssss. Can't wait to eat my sandwich and ingest some peanut butter and feces. That's a hearty meal, let me tell you! Well, once in my tower I then get all the gear ready to film, put on my headset, and focus and white-balance so that everything will look nice. Alright...time to film some horses from my awesome treehouse of awesomeness.

Then I realize my treehouse totally sucks.
You take more than one step and the whole thing rocks back and forth, which is because it's 50 feet in the air and sits on top of a toothpick. Terrible stuff, especially when you're job is to use a camera and make sure it's not really bumpy/rocky looking.
There is a wasp nest in the corner.
I knock out the nest when the wasp leaves. It comes back. It's pissed. I'm scared.
Speaking of pissed...what do I do if I have to go to the bathroom?
Ah yes...well there are only 10 minutes between each horse race. So no chance running to the bathroom huh? How about I pee out the window? Oh, the spectators (all 11 of them) are 100 feet away and would totally notice a giant arcing golden stream falling from my tower?
I have great bladder control, but I am terrified of the day when I will have to resort to using my glorious new "pee cup," which is also in my backpack.

So...this is where I work. This is how I work. This is my grand old treehouse, my domain, my fortress of solitude.

[Lastly, I would like to include one of the few pictures I've taken over the last few days, while the drivers were warming up. I love photography and love to attempt different styles, capture things in different ways, and this here is my attempt at capturing the horse and driver in minimalist photography....enjoy!]

Photo:
"Long Way to Go"
Courtesy of Tyler Conta and the Fortress of Solitude Company.
Click on the image if you wish to view it in a larger form.

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