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You might be a Photo Freak

Ξ June 26th, 2008 | → 1 Comments | ∇ I should have seen the signs |

To borrow a theme from Jeff Foxworthy…

• If the list of possible names you considered for your newborn included Fuji, F-stop, and PS3, you might be a photo freak
• If you refuse to buy a car because there’s not enough space on the side to display your wedding website URL, you might be a photo freak
• If you’ve been known to place your Nikon D3 camera body in a vapor-proof, environmentally-sealed, temperature controlled display case, you might be a photo freak
• If you have more pictures of past clients than your own family in your wallet, you might be a photo freak
• If you’ve been known to shout, “This would make a great prop!” across a department store crowded with people, you might be a photo freak
• If you’ve screeched to a halt while driving because you spotted “the perfect light”, you might be a photo freak
• If you can find Bend, Oregon on a map, you might be a photo freak
• If your nightstand is covered with a stack of books written by Scott Kelby, you might be a photo freak
• If your dream house has only one room with a northern facing floor to ceiling window for that perfect soft light, you might be a photo freak
• If  all of the “cookbooks” in your house show detailed lighting diagrams rather than actual recipes for food, you might be a photo freak
• If a sight-seeing trip to New York has B&H Photo Video as your one and only stop, you might be a photo freak
• If you have an autographed photo from David Beckstead on your desk where your wife’s photo should be, you might be a photo freak
• If you’ve ever scaled the side of a building or climbed on top of a garbage can to get a higher perspective for a photo, you might be a photo freak
• If a trip to Las Vegas gets you excited about the trade show you’ll attend, you might be a photo freak
• If you’re on a first name basis with all of the sales guys at Midwest Photo Supply, you might be a photo freak
• If the words “Nikon 500mm f/4G ED VR AF Lens with LensCoat  Cover and Hoodie” bring a tear to your eye, you might be a photo freak
• If the thought of spending a Saturday afternoon without two cameras in hand causes you physical pain, you might be a photo freak
• If the majority of your friends have been married within the last two years, you might be a photo freak

And finally,

• If your Christmas stocking contains more than 2 Compact Flash cards that Santa has given you as a gift, you might be a photo freak

The day the D3 arrived…

Ξ June 25th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ The latest indignity |

After months of waiting, the Nikon D3 made its grand appearance at our place.  You would have thought the Queen of England was visiting.  There was pacing backand forth, ears perking up at the sound of any vehicle driving down our street, tracking and retracking the package on the UPS website, and the constant adjusting of items on the coffee table.  Pile the magazines in a stack… no, wait, spread them out in a fan pattern.  I think my photo freak even cleaned the bathroom, like somehow the D3 was going to judge us on the cleanliness of our bathroom grout.

Suddenly, the sound of a heavy brown truck tire as it crunched on the gravel driveway…  Could it be??? And then it was here!  Oh, to push the limits of ISO and noise parameters.  Would it really be virtually noise free if he set it up to take photos by the light cast by the open oven door?  Would a single candle in the neighbor’s window be sufficient to light the backyard and make it look as though it was high noon?  And better yet, what would that full frame capability bring to the table?

My son and I were tormented by the sounds of clicks as our photo-ninja jumped out of every hidden nook to capture an image with that camera.  Nothing was sacred.  Stumbling up the steps at the end of the evening, there was that sound of the shutter…  Click, click, click…  A beautiful 9 frames per second, whether you needed them or not.  I believe my son is now suffering from some sort of Viet Nam type stress every time he hears that single reflex mirror snapping up into position, allowing the light to hit the sensor buried in the beast. 

So there was my husband, ooo-ing and ahhhh-ing over the owner’s manual just anticipating the next wedding and the beautiful photos he would create with his newest high-tech paint brush.  “Oh look, I’ve just captured you in both RAW and JPG!” he would squeal in delight.  “Oh, joy.” I would mutter in return knowing that the photo he just immortalized me in was one where I had just rolled out of bed with funky hair and even funkier pillow wrinkles etched into my cheek.

Of course, he probably feels the same way when I bring home a new plant for the garden…

How to talk a wedding photographer into an August vacation

Ξ June 24th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Dreams of the future |

1. First off, explain that all outdoor photos will have a hazy white sky.  And you just know those blinking highlights on the camera display will cause light induced seizures.
2. Point out that old churches don’t have great air conditioning.  Explain how your hands get all sweaty and moist and you fear dropping the D300 over the railing during the ceremony.  If your man is savvy enough to mention the use of a tripod, tell him that the camera lens still fogs up due to the high humidity.
3. Sell the vacation locale.  For Alaska, stress the opportunity to photograp glaciers, whales, bald eagles, and jumping salmon while they “still exist on this reckless Earth we live in”.  For Hawaii, talk about the tropical grotto only accessed by locals using little known footpaths where pristine waters are so clear that you can literally photograph a quarter lying on the bottom of the pond.  For Europe, talk about the photo safaris that David Beckstead conducts and wouldn’t it be great to shoot some errant bride just waiting for her ceremony to begin in a lavishly decorated cathedral?  And, mention Italy.  For some reason photographers just go goo-goo over the thoughts of olive groves, fields of grapes on the vine, and cobblestones…
4. Explain the need for a break before entering the busiest month of the year (October for those of us located in PA).  Tell your photo freak how the vacation will give him a chance to read his owner’s manual to figure out the Cliff Mautner method of exposure compensation.  Then tell him that a vacation with no meetings will enable him to actually grow the Cliff Mautner style moustache that you personally find extremely sexy…
5. Point out how no bookings occurred during the month of August last year and that inquiries won’t seriously pick up again until the holidays roll around
6. Promise to purchase 20 rolls of medium format film so he can pretend to be Ansel Adams.  Yes, I know that Ansel used a different format film but it’s easier to travel with a MF camera…
7. Talk about the colorful local people and how he can get some really cool documentary style photos that he just can’t get here.  Come on, how many sherpas exist in Pittsburgh?
8. Mention that there are plenty of photo and Photoshop classes on the Cruising Through Life ships!
9. Tell him his work is getting kind of stagnant since he photographs the same places all the time and that a change in venue will get those creative juices flowing.
10. Mention that the kids will be out of school and therefore can carry gear from one location to the next but you can only get them away from the Playstation 3 by leaving the house

How it all started…

Ξ June 21st, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ I should have seen the signs |

On October 1st, I married the man.  And like all second marriages, he came with baggage. 

We both sold our much bigger houses and settled into our little Cape Cod in a new state to start life together.  He told me he sold everything but he showed up with boxes, cases, backpacks and crates filled with camera gear.  Ok, I was ready for the emotional stuff.  But the gear was a surprise.

Maybe not so much the gear.  The amount of gear.

Those of you who married the same type of man know what I’m talking about.  Camera gear grows.  It multiplies.  It spreads.  It finds its way into your refrigerator. 

Like mold.

You open a door one day and a backdrop cloth comes tumbling out like some sort of tie-dyed ghost ready to suck you into the depths of hell.  You open the refrigerator only to get pelted by little canisters of film that have escaped the butter shelf at the top of the fridge door.  No, they must stay in the fridge so the chemicals are kept pristine, like some sort of prized orchid.  But where shall I put my butter dish?  It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s not by the film.

And those of you who are not married to photo freaks may think it’s just a camera and a lens that infultrates your space.  No, if it were so simple… Let me give you a list of items that show up when that first camera cockroach invades your space:

• the gear bag (think suitcase that is in your living room 100% of the time)
• the tripods and their cousins, the background stands
• flash equipment like stands, lightbulbs, diffusers, and springy little rods that hold the monster together
• enlargers
• more cases
• lenses that must be displayed so as to remember that the lens is even owned and should be used
• batteries, batteries, batteries and a charging station that rivals a nuclear power plant
• computers because you need one to process the raw files while you browse Digital Wedding Forum on the other
• software boxes, owners manuals, printouts from Adobe training sites
• hard drives because you have to save every episode of PhotoshopUserTV and every other podcast relating to Photoshop, photography, and anything remotely tied to Adobe

So while I brought the non-essentials like dishes and towels, he brought the important items that he claims need to be encapsulated in hermetically sealed display cases but which actually sit on our bookshelves and gather dust.