Orlando's Danny Forester, of Weak and Framework Coffee, is a DIY true believer

It is a balmy Friday afternoon, and Orlando Weekly is sitting outside Framework Craft Coffee House with shop owner Danny Forester, who is coaching a member of his team how to use the chai grinder.

We barely understand what's being said, but still appreciate the expertise. It's a reminder at the top of our conversation of the community that, against all odds, Forester and his friends created. Danny Forester is a DIY true believer.

It's a mentality Forester holds that's rooted in the necessity to survive and the pride found in surviving. Born in Brooklyn and educated in Orange County, Forester grew up with little in the way of financial means. The only option he had was to do it himself.

"Growing up in a poor neighborhood, with a family that didn't have much, I had to make it on my own at 17," Forester says. "It all kind of came down to survival ... but I always needed to do something more, even as a kid. My first job was making little pastries for my parents' co-workers, it was called Danny Does Desserts."

Growing up without financial means, Forester obviously didn't have access to craft coffee. He remembers the precise moment when he tasted good coffee for the first time in his early 20s, while working at a coffee house in Winter Park. "I was like, 'Oh, I don't really like black coffee.' But what you don't realize is that you just don't like bad coffee."

It was while on the road in a touring band that Forester was inspired to make the leap and open Framework. "I had been in a band that had traveled a little bit. So I was able to see all these other coffee shops that were doing these really cool things. And I was just like, 'Why is Orlando missing this?' I really, really wanted to do that, here specifically."

Forester launched what would become Framework out of his and his roommates' garage. He didn't have a car, but he had talent, TV trays, mason jars, kitchen spoons and friends who believed in him. And thus Framework began, popping up at events all over town.

Framework has a "pay what you can" system in terms of beverage pricing. In that way, Forester hopes to ensure more people like him can experience the joy and inspiration he found in coffee years ago.

In addition to the brick-and-mortar headquarters on Mills, Framework still pops up, having upgraded from TV trays to a camper you can find at various community events.

Aside from being "just" a coffee shop by day, Framework is a bustling DIY venue by night. The shop has become the de facto headquarters of Orlando indie bookers Ugly Orange as well as regularly providing a stage (well, floor) for Orlando's next-wavers. And it even hosted a night of Palestinian cinema earlier this month.

"We just need more DIY venues in Orlando," explains Forester, "especially after losing places like Spacebar, The Space, Cloud 9."

Most germane for this section of OW is the news that Weak — a punk band that Forester fronts — has finally dropped the second side of their Life, Death and Foxes full-length online. It's a free listen on Bandcamp and major streaming platforms.

Though a relatively young project, the bandmates have a long history. "I hit up my old bandmates from the early 2000s that I played with. We kind of just decided to bring the band back and do it."

Those bandmates, who moonlight in projects as diverse as Audible Parts and Like Father — Kyle Hoffer on guitar, Steven Parsons also on guitar, Jack Bramuchi on drums, and polymath Preston Hardwick on bass — whip up a storm of hardcore fury roughly collaged with ferocious technical breakdowns. All forward motion and savage focus.

Some of the songs on Life, Death and Foxes, described aptly by Forester as "chaos-punk, dissonance and loudness," have been years in the making, while some are brand-new and of the moment.

Weak's lyrics are often rooted in politics, as is the band's overall modus operandi, including throwing shows like "Punk for a Purpose," a benefit for the Florida chapter of the National Organization for Women. Indeed, next on the docket for the band, besides a cassette-release show, is putting together another Punk for a Purpose gig.

Throughout our conversation, Forester shares immense gratitude to the community in Orlando he considers family, and his commitment to give back and grow that community — a crew of passionate creatives who are all paving their own way against all odds, making it work and molding our town's scrappy spirit.

"I think you have a love for it more when it's something that you built," says Forester. "I painted these walls and they ain't great ... but you built this, and it's yours."