Milk Carton Superstars

Posted on by Thor

The third band I saw as part of I-4 Fest, inside Austin’s Coffee (929 W. Fairbanks Ave. Winter Park) on July 4th was Milk Carton Superstars. They had gone the extra mile by having an American flax covering the speakers. They also had their own LED lighting although it wasn’t needed since it was really bright outside. Milk Carton Superstars are a couple guys shaking riffs and rhymes out of thin air and turning them into rock & roll songs.


The band formed in early 2007 when longtime friends
Guy Larmay (guitars, bass, other) and Jim Myers (vocals, drums, other
also) began writing songs together again for the first time. They are
based in Mt. Dora.

The music was hard hitting rock and roll. My wife, Terry, hadn’t finished her crossword puzzle yet because a coffee had been spilled on it. We decided we had seen enough local music for one day.  I drove near Lake Eola where streets were already blocked off for the July 4th fireworks display. I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable traffic, so I drove to Boston Market where we had a holiday feast. After that, we drove straight home, where I watched war movies for the rest of the night as fire crackers and bottle rockets exploded around the quiet suburban streets. Zorro, an umbrella cockatoo, didn’t much like the noise. He raised his crest every time there was an explosion.

Hindu Cowboys

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On the second Friday of every month there is Culture and Cocktails at the Maitland Art Center. In May, the band was the Hindu Cowboys. I had seen this band once before at a Friends of the Philharmonic, Jeans and Jewels fundraiser. This was my first opportunity to sketch them. Terry planned to join me, but she was late, so I started sketching even as band members set up speakers and equipment. They played an assortment of originals and covers. My wife, Terry Thorspecken, arrived and spread open a blanket on the grass beside me. I was working in one of the larger Stillman & Birn sketchbooks, so it took a bit more time to splash down color washes. I managed to finish by the time the band finished their first set.

Terry wasn’t in the mood to see any art, so I walked into the Maitland Art Center on my own. On display was student work all of which was of cropped in forced perspectives of home exteriors. The work was painterly and bold. Much of it was quite impressive so the teacher must have had a strong and definite premise. I then went across the street to the Mayan courtyard where there was a poetry reading. The lit page illuminated the poets face from below. Folding chairs were arranged in the courtyard and an audience of perhaps 20 people listened intently. The poet read about the irony of being called a “domestic partner”.

The Hindu Cowboys began to play again. Terry was gone. I listened to several songs and then decided to leave.

Pink Hair

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Denna Beena and Travis Fillmen had Denna’s sister and her husband over to meet folks before the wedding for an evening barbecue, and screening at their place. When Travis started up the grill, the flames leaped up and then the thick billowing smoke followed guests.

After eating, my wife Terry, decided she wanted a pink streak in her hair. Denna always has a supply of pink die, so they went up to the kitchen for the procedure. It only took five minutes so I didn’t catch Terry. Another girl decided she wanted streaks in her long blond hair and I managed to catch her. Terry’s hair is a dark brown now and the pink was barely detectable.  That was actually good since she works in a fairly conservative business.

 Denna and Travis have two cats and they set up an aerial boardwalk for the cats up in the rafters. The boardwalk was designed like one of the zip line aerial obstacles at ZOOm Air Adventures at the Sanford Zoo. Their black cat watched the hair dye operation from on top of the cabinets.

A large TV was rolled out of the garage onto the side lawn for the outdoor matinee screening of The Muppet Movie. Once it was dark a second darker film was put in, Tucker & Dale vs. Evil. Terry had no interest in that movie so she drove home and I stayed to watch. It was a very strange, sick film about two hicks on vacation who find themselves in situations where college kids die in violent bloody ways by accident. Tucker and Dale though innocent, always end up looking like psycho killers. It was shocking and funny. Everyone sat in their lawn chairs screaming and laughing.

Casino Royale

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The Friends of the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra held a Casino Royale fundraiser at Villa Conroy. Tickets were $100. My wife, Terry, painted herself gold for the event in honor of the James Bond film Gold Finger. When we entered Villa Conroy, the first song on the sound system was appropriately, Gold Finger. Upstairs, blackjack and roulette tables were set up. The room was filled with art, both representational and abstract. A Chihuli glass lily pad was encased behind Plexiglas. Everyone was handed a hundred dollar bill which could be turned in for chips. Terry used my chips since she played while I sketched.

At the roulette wheel, Kristin Brandt, the Assistant Director of Development for the Philharmonic, was tentative about placing her first bets. She had never played roulette before. Her boyfriend  stood behind her coaching. She doubled her money. Then doubled it again. She was giddy and flustered, blushing. “Beginners luck” someone muttered as his chips were cleaned off the table. A crowd gathered and shouted as she won again. More chips were pulled out to be added to her pile.

Terry, the golden girl, mostly stuck with Blackjack. Towards the end of the evening she grew fearless and her winnings grew exponentially. At stake for everyone in the room was the lure of a gift basket. I scanned the other tables to see if anyone else had a stack of chips as big as Terry’s. Kristin’s stack had dissipated. The gentleman on the right side of my sketch had an impressive pile. With a minute to go before they closed the betting, Terry bet everything and lost. The gentleman took home the gift basket. Each of the dealers had Tupperware “tip jars”. They were stuffed full or real green.

After the fundraiser, Terry and I went to the Kerouac House where we just missed the reading by resident author, Leslie Parry.  Former resident author, Catlin Doyle, was there as well. She was at the Atlantic Center of the Arts in New Smyrna Beach and she drove to Orlando for the reading.  I was fascinated with her life as a nomadic resident artist. After a quick bite and sip, Terry and I went to Fringe for a Poetry Smack down.

Eclipse Pool

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While my wife, Terry, was working on crossword puzzles and reading in our stateroom, I went on deck to sketch the main pool. There was another indoor pool as well near the workout rooms. I stood on a walkway between the outdoor bar and a burger stand. I starred off in the shade but the boat must have shifted it’s course because I soon was in the full sun. The pool had four jacuzzis. Two of the jacuzzis were almost always filled with children. There was a stage at the foot of the shallow end of the pool and there was often live music.

In the lounge chairs, passengers fingered their iPads, read actual paper books and soaked up the sun. Terry and I talked about getting in a jacuzzi, but we never got around to it. A mom snapped photos of her kids in the jacuzzi. A woman in a hijab stood at the edge of the pool but she never got in the water. I noticed her later in a lounge chair with only the oval of her face exposed to the sun.

In the evenings, Terry and I would take walks on deck, doing full laps around the perimeter of the ship. The Celebrity Eclipse was 1,033 feet long and 121 feet wide. There were 2850 guests on board. In the evening, the pool and jacuzzis were closed. Nets were secured over the waters surface to keep people out. I never noticed a life guard but some crew member must have been watching.

Easter Brunch

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The first night out I drifted off to sleep to the gentle rocking of the boat. I rather liked being rocked to sleep. In the morning Terry and I went to the main dining hall where a lavish Easter brunch was stationed. There were ice sculptures of bunnies, and there was an ice tower with blood red lobsters perched at every level. With so many choices, it was close to impossible to decide what to eat. People circled, backed up and bumped into each other in their quest for food. They swayed as they walked since no one had their “sea legs” yet. The noisy clanking of plates and the rush of the crowd made me uneasy. There were dozens of solid foot high chocolate bunnies on display and one woman plopped one on her plate and walked off. As a young child, I remember trying to eat a whole chocolate bunny in one sitting. The result wasn’t pretty and I refused to eat any chocolate for years afterwards.

All of the excess must have resulted in people gorging themselves. There were certainly plenty of overweight passengers. It had the opposite affect on me. I ate light. I believe I scooped some scrambled eggs on my plate, picked up a yogurt, a cup of orange juice and then went upstairs.  This was to be a full day at sea and I didn’t need to have anything sloshing around inside me. A porter tried to seat me near a port hole overlooking the ocean, but I insisted on overlooking the lavish madness.  Terry struck up a conversation with a lady at the table next to us as I sketched. Out of the blue the woman told Terry that she had a book in her. Terry was shocked since she has just begun toying with the notion of writing a book. The woman said she was clairvoyant.

We returned to this huge dining hall each evening to sit at a table with three Canadians and two women from Miami. I would say that cruising is much like trying to survive a week long wedding reception with its lock stepped schedule of planned events and formal dining.

Celebrity Eclipse

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Elaine Pasekoff and Derek Hewitt drove Terry and I to the Miami docks where our cruise ship was docked. There was some paperwork to fill out and the passports had to be checked, but getting on to the ship was a fairly painless process. There were maps of the ship near the elevators and we decided to go to the Ocean View Bar at the back of the ship to wait for embarkation. We ordered drinks and I relaxed into my first sketch on the voyage. Half way into this sketch the loud speakers crackled on and we were told that everyone had to report to an evacuation station point. I always finish a sketch yet here on vacation there were more interruptions than ever.

At the evacuation point we had to see a film and listen to crew members much like stewardesses on an airplane. Terry sat on my artist stool as the room grew hot from all the people pressing into a small space. After the film, Terry went to our cabin and I hiked back to the Ocean View Bar to finish my sketch. Signs that said, “Private Party” were blocking the entrance to the bar. I ignored them and made my way back to the bar. The Brits sipping their drinks with umbrellas must have been exclusive VlP’s.

I finished the sketch just as the boat started to move. Loud horn blasts announced our departure. Terry texted me to let me know she was coming to meet me. She got lost so I went on deck to find her. She was easy to find, since she was a few yards from where I exited the bar and went on deck. The water churned as the huge ship backed out of the dock. Everything moved in slow motion. It started to drizzle so I went to our cabin for the first time. My luggage was in the hall, so I rolled it inside and looked around. I relaxed on the balcony and watched the Miami skyline slide by as we went out to sea. The Celebrity Eclipse had set sail.

Lace Makers

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Terry and I returned to the Mennello Museum of American Art for the second day of the Folk Festival. Our first order of business was to go in the museum since admission was free for the day. On display was “Style & Grace, which was a magnificent collection of paintings from the Michael & Marilyn Mennello collection. There was a large golden statue of Marilyn in a gorgeous long flowing dress in the room to the left of the entry. I felt a bit sad since she had passed away, yet this sculpture was beautiful as was all the art she collected. There were so many paintings from artists whose work I love and respect. There was a whole wall full of John Sloan landscape paintings and a Robert Henri portrait right in the entry. Robert Henri was a fantastic teacher as well as a painter. I studied his color theories in detail and he is still teaching me today.

On display in the gallery to the right of the reception desk was, William H. Johnson: An American Modern on loan from the Smithsonian Institution. Arranged chronologically, the paintings begin when he was a student in France as he experimented in different styles. His later work, started in Harlem, New York, showed his hard edged maturity. As Terry and I walked around, I pointed out how some of the paintings focused on important details in certain spots while letting bold brushwork fill the remaining canvas. This is something I’m just beginning to learn with my sketches. A lesson learned over hundreds and hundreds of sketches. She let me know that it is this kind of insight into the process that she appreciated me sharing. I need to learn to share my thoughts verbally more often.

Before going to the Mennello, I brought Terry to Avalon for a couples Valentine Tarot Card reading. My aura was bright yellow with a candle flame flickering. Terry’s aura was filled with presidential figures. Between us stood a totem pole. Two column of Tarot cards were dealt out with one card between at the top. Terry picked the column of cards closest to her. She was blown away by her reading. Things said about her mother were spot on. My column had the death card in the mix. That implied change is coming my way. The common card between us was a heart pierced by three swords.

In college, I copied a painting of a Lacemaker by Vermeer in the first painting class I took as a freshman. Perhaps for this reason I decided to sketch Peggy and Anne as they clicked their small wooden bobbins, creating intricate lace patterns. A small lace pattern was started on a red pillow on a card table and occasionally Peggy would coach someone on the intricacies of the craft. A young Spanish man sat down and tried his hand at the Mundillo process, Peggy coached him calmly. She said, “I’ve been doing this longer than you have been on this Earth.” When she saw my sketch she said, “I’ve never been sketched before doing what I love to do.”

Valentines

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On Valentines Day, I had to work in the evening from 6pm to 1am at Full Sail. That late night shift meant I wouldn’t be able to take Terry out to Dinner. I also needed to figure out a daytime event to sketch. I looked in the Arts Fest booklet and the only event I could find was an exhibit at the Holocaust Museum in Maitland. Somehow, sketching at a Holocaust Museum on Valentines didn’t work for me. I decided at the last minute to call Terry at work and ask her if she would like to meet for an early dinner at 3pm. She met me at the Grand Bohemian.

The Grand Bohemian main dining room was being decked out with red table cloths and linens for the evening’s festivities. We were offered a table in the bar area. Terry had accepted the fact that I had to work late and didn’t expect any special Valentines treat. When I called, she realized she did appreciate the chance to spend time together. The orders took a long time to come out but we relaxed in the midst of a busy work day. Terry was hungry and her order came out first. We shared her dish of eggs and ham on a thick slab of toast until my chicken dish came out. The waitress put on an extra piece of chicken to make up for the wait. My dish was delicious with a sweet caramelized glaze and plump potatoes with greens.

A woman at the bar was showing off a new line of flavored vodkas to the bar maid. As we finished our meal, the bar began to fill. Several of Terry’s co-workers sat at another table and ordered drinks. Late afternoon employees in business suits drifted in from work. The sun light sweeping in through the windows got warmer as the sun set. I kissed Terry goodbye and she marched back to her office in high heels, a bright red blouse and a vibrant black and white stripped skirt that looked like it just came off a model’s runway.

I trudged back to my truck to head off to work. I had an hour to kill so I stopped into Avalon Gallery to look at a group show of watercolors from members of the Central Florida Watercolor Society. I brushed past work that was too pedantic and sweet but I did find some inspiring work. I studied a rough landscape by Ken Austen, and I really liked a painting called “American Craftsman” of an old Orlando home. I learned a thing or two from the paintings on display, leaving me itching to splash some color around. Jeffery Shonkwiler, the gallery director, was seated with Donna Dowless in the cushy gallery seats. Donna is Orlando’s ambassador of love. Much of her work incorporates a heart shape. As I left, Donna said to me, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I replied, “It sure is!” Walking towards Lake Eole I realized it truly was a gorgeous day.

Walking around Lake Eola, I stopped at the swan boat dock and realized, that I had to sketch. The light was golden. Couples walked out on the dock in a constant stream. No one used the black mini Venetian Gondolas. As soon as a swan boat returned to dock it would fill with another loving couple looking for adventure. A black and white swan swam near where I was sketching. A couple was shooting photos. The boyfriend suggested to his girlfriend that she get a shot where the swans necks formed a heart shape. She waited behind the lens for that magic moment. The white swan reared up in the water flapping its wings. It honked loudly and then lunged forward at the black swan, snapping it’s beak. The swans weren’t lovers, they were two males competing for territory.

Yoga Matrix

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Terry planned to go to a yoga class with Sarah Austin. Sarah was running late so Terry didn’t take the class. It was an oven in the place and she decided that she would rather go home and relax. Terry and I used to go to yoga together several years ago. At dinner, Terry asked if I would like to go to yoga again with her. I agreed.

Yoga Matrix (7601 Della Dr. Suite # 5 at Dr. Phillips Marketplace) is right in our neighborhood. We went to a Saturday morning Hatha Yoga class being taught by Edely. We entered the studio through a back door. People were crowded into the small office. More people arrived and crowded in. A Yoga class was winding down and they were in a quiet meditative state so we all remained silent. When the prior class let out, we shuffled in. There was square shelving for our shoes and socks just like in kindergarten. The room is kept at a comfortable 76 degrees.

Terry and I ended up placing our bright pink mats right in front of Edely who faced the full room of participants. Edely has an adorable accent that made me feel I was practicing some exotic ritual. “Yoga is about undoing, shacked out your legs until they are relaxed.” When we went from downward facing dog to a position where we sat back on our heels and leaned forward with our forehead on the mat and our hands spread above our head, my head started to swim. I was dizzy. I shook off the sensation as we went into warrior poses. Warrior poses involved keeping our arms extended as we reached towards opposite walls. In grade school, I remember this being a form of punishment as the teacher asked us to keep our hands extended until it hurt. My aching neck muscles tensed.

My favorite part of yoga is when we lie down and relax at the end. Edely asked us to imagine a point of bright white light inside our skull. All my muscles were “relaxed”. Calming music filled the room. Someones breathing deepened sounding like they were asleep. For the rest of the day, my shoulders and neck ached. I still don’t know if this is a good or bad sign.