Venice Beach clean-up

Beach clean-up, free t-shirt — who can resist that combination? Last week my friends and I went to Venice Beach to help KROQ and a couple thousand locals clean up the famous sands. Due to the coffee needs of our crew and a prolonged stop at our favorite Starbucks, we were late arriving and missed out on the free t-shirt opportunity. And by the time we made it to the front of the line, they were also out of lunches and wristbands. Well, at least we could still be contributing individuals and don our safety gloves and lift our trash bags high! We named ourselves the Hardcore Trash Whores,
and we stepped onto the beach with fierce determination that no garbage would go untouched! But as we walked into the sand and started combing for litter, our spirits shifted from those of committed collectors to a deflated second string team. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had already walked our steps with their protective hand gear and their billowing plastic sacks. There was hardly any trash to be found! I uncovered the first treasure for our team — a piece of dirty styrofoam the size of a quarter. Success! We are helping the environment, making the beach a cleaner, safer place to be! Now if only some syringes and old rubbers could be spotted and placed securely in our garbage bag. That would feel like some real beach detox was happening under our careful labors.
After spending about 20 minutes wandering around and uncovering miniscule pieces of paper and plastic, we broke for a photo shoot by the resident photographer, yours truly. As we were heading off in search of sustenance to reward our efforts, Geoff lost control.
In his frustration at encountering an already clean beach, he decided to upend an existing trash can so he could frantically and heroically clean up the ugly scar of refuse on the virgin sand. Thankfully, Lindsay came to his rescue before he attracted too large of a crowd, and he only got a few ugly glances.
Next on the agenda… LUNCH. After our strenuous efforts of picking up nonexistent bits of trash, we were ready for some serious refreshment. We opted for the pizza joint and followed up with some ice cream shortly after, but not before Jenna and I made a brief foray into a piercing parlor. I decided to either get my nose done, or the cartilage in my mid-left ear, but in the end I left without any new holes in my head. Cost is such a prohibitive factor.

After strolling along the boardwalk of freaks, and racing Tim to dive into the water fully clothed, our ears caught the sound of electric guitars… the concert was beginning! Jurassic Five was in the house (or on the beach) and the crowd was swelling.
I must state here that I am typically not a fan of the hip-hop genre, but I became one with the beat and I was lifting my hands with the best of ‘em. But mid-concert, Tim and I decided it was time to play with my camera again. I discovered the hidden gangsta within for an afternoon as I posed against graffiti walls, and I found it very liberating.
Tim also found some truer expressions of his soul and overall, the photographic payoff was bounteous.
As the sounds of funk faded from the air, we saluted the seagulls and sauntered off in the direction of our car. It was truly a fulfilling day of loving the planet, loving my gangster friends, and loving the beat. Next time KROQ hosts a beach clean up, I’ll be first in line.