In my mind, 1967, on vacation

St. Augustine Moose Lodge entrance. (click/enlarge).

Starting to work on some of the Florida images. Here’s one quick practice run at the St. Augustine Moose Elks Lodge. Wouldn’t you love to know what goes on inside that joint? And when they were building it, George said to Bill, “You know, I see a giant moose elk on a pedestal, out by the road; it’ll be real pretty. And Bill says, “George, I can see it too. I’ve got a backhoe, let’s have the moose elk in a moat. And let’s have another drink”.

(Update/Edit: Yeah, several comments have indicated that I’m a city boy, and I don’t know a moose from an elk. I stand corrected. I even found the link to their site; check out the music!) (My goodness — is this not an opening for a great photo story? Moose lodges, elks lodges, etc.? There is this amazing building, downtown Nashville; but it’s cloaked in mystery. What actually goes on inside these buildings?)

Here’s my comment on the current Economy

Detail from empty showroom on Broadway. (click/enlarge).

I shot this last week. Still infatuated with these deserted car dealership showrooms. Feels like some scene out of an FSA/WPA Walker Evans image, but about sixty years later. Dust Bowl. Dried up and blowed away… (Maybe if we wait a few more months, and things get even worse, the WPA and FSA will come rolling back into town).

A Sunday Drive on a grey day

Shotgun houses near Werthan development, (w/ '56 Chevy).

Headed out today, (Sunday, January 4th), to snoop around about a loft that Kristin mentioned yesterday. Ended up over on Hume Street, next to Werthan. What a collision of cultures is happening there — these new contemporary condos bumping right up to old skinny row houses. Germantown is changing fast.

A million birds sitting on power line over I-40

Then headed home and ran upon this weird power line that’s strung up over I-40, near the Broadway exit. For some reason, there was a bird convention going on there — thousands of them there, like they were watching a college football game or something. I shot this to try to one-up my friend Michael Prince, competing for the best bird picture.

I found another empty dealership (but this one just moved)

And then a block from there, I found yet another empty car showroom. This one didn’t go under; I think they just moved to MetroCenter. (Related post, with pictures).

(I also changed Templates today, here on WordPress. I switched to the DePo Masthead theme. I’m viewing this in Firefox browser (as you should be!), but if anything looks weird in another browser, let me know. I know HTML, but not CSS very well).

Educate me on the concept of Tipping

Just back from Florida road trip. Lots of diners and restaurants (and bars). This is on my mind, and I want to write about it before I forget it:

So I totally get it about Tipping in a real restaurant. The waiter comes, and he takes your order, and he brings you your food, and when you’re finished, you get up and leave, and you don’t have to take your tray over to the trash bin and cram the whole thing down the chute. I get it. I’m a good Tipper in that scenario. But what about those other Grey Areas, and they seem to be creeping up more than ever? I’m not bitching; I just want to get educated, so I can have a Position on this, when I’m standing somewhere with a plastic wine cup in my hand, and the topic comes up.

What is it about America, where it’s set up this way? Where the waiter or waitress can legally get paid a poverty wage from the Restaurant, and therefore they’re FORCED to survive on tips? Who invented this law? Can it be repealed? If you were a waiter, wouldn’t it be sort of embarrassing in a way, like you’re down on your knees or something, having to suck up to the customer, in order to get paid enough to make your rent? Why waiters? Why not auto mechanics, who lay on their back on some dolly, underneath my car, and have dirt fall in their eyes, and oil squirt in their face, in the dead heat of summer? Why not framing carpenters, who balance on temporary 2×4’s, on the roof, and hope not to fall? Arent’ these people busting their ass a lot more than a Starbucks employee, who’s slaving over a espresso machine, in constant 72 degree weather, all the while listening to Sheryl Crow or that Ray LaFontagne guy?

Or what about this? You go into a burrito joint, and it’s one of those line deals, where you walk down the line and tell them what to pile into your burrito? Do THOSE people get paid a real wage, but the people who bring you more fruit juice are “waiters”, so they get paid a fraction of what the guacamole guy gets? I’m dead serious here. Are those people slopping on the black beans considered to be “cooks”, or “waiters”? So then, you get to the end of the line, where you pay, and you give them your VISA, and then slip comes back, and it’s got that dreaded EMPTY SPACE left open for GRATUITY. And you stand there, and you think, “Well fuck, what SERVICE did I get for this tip? I stood in line in front of the fat guy that couldn’t decide between steak or extra steak, and then I carried my plastic tray to my (dirty) table, and then when finished, I carried my trash to the (overflowing) trash bin”. What service? Why a tip? But yet, being the lameass gutless spineless wimp that I am, I always slap on an extra 20% in that section, and then silently complain about it under my breath.

Who wrote this law, and can we change it?

I remember traveling to Berlin with my friend Wolf, and on the first day, we go to this beautiful outdoor garden for beers and lunch. The check came, and I reached for it, and he told me, “Round it up to the next dollar, if you want, but no more. This is their JOB, just like any other kind of worker. They get a fair Wage.” I just thought it was great.

The only ones that truly make me mad are the ones where you do your own schlepping for everything, yet, they STILL want a tip. And usually, it’s in some hippie dippie artsy coffee shop, where the guy behind the counter has got on $300 jeans.

Even weirder is the “automatic tip for tables of five or more”. And I was in one restaurant last week, and in the fine print, it says, “18% gratuity added to tables of five or more; tables of four or more, it’s left up to the manager’s discretion”. I thought, WTF? What is the scene here — do the manager and the waiter conspire, behind the bar, and the waiter tells the manager, “Yeah, that one guy wanted more lemon with his Diet Coke, so let’s add on the 18% automatic tip on their bill”, and then the manager says, “Yeah, you’re SO right. The gall of that guy, wanting more lemon”.

And then one night, about three years ago, we’re out with clients, and we’re at a nice place, and several bottles of wine have been poured, so they add on the automatic 18%, but then, they STILL leave the Gratuity Line blank, in case you want to tip more(!). So I’m hammered, and I reach for the bill, and I add on another 20% to the already-tipped-on check. But I’m hammered, so I don’t realize it til the next day, when I find the wadded up receipt in my wallet. That day, I did have the courage to call the manager on the phone and “express my concern over their policy”. (And I’ve never been back since).

Something is wrong in this whole equation, or else I’m missing something. What am I missing here….?

On The Road: The A1A Treasure Hunt

I couldn’t deal with that weird week between Christmas and New Years, when it feels like the whole world just leaves town and hibernates. So I booked a last-minute flight to St. Augustine for a short little road trip. I’m not sure why I chose St. Augustine; I had originally wanted to explore the Lafayette, Louisiana area, but maybe that comes another time. I think I ended up picking St. Augustine for the weather; I’m just not a wintertime person at all. Nashville has been socked in with cold winds and rain and that Seattle blow-your-brains-out grey muck, and I was just needing some sunshine. I’d last come here when I was a tiny kid — we still have this tiny BW snapshot of me in front of a giant tree with spanish moss. Something about the history of the place, and something about the A1A highway and (hopefully) many of those 1950s motor court motels are still around. I’m in sort of a 1970’s color palette mood lately, and maybe some of that imagery would be nice.

Today, outside of the downtown historic area of St. Augustine, I found this great area called Lincolnville. It’s an african-american neighborhood, filled with great architecture and history. Block after block of historic homes. Near the water. Spanish moss hanging everywhere.

St. Augustine is an interesting mix of people — there’s a college there, so you’ve got the young kid energy, mixed with tourist energy, and mixed with historic energy. The downtown area is wonderful; feels like New Orleans. Best navigated on foot or bicycle. Will head back over there tomorrow and see what I find. If they’d just tone down the kitschy/tourist vibe a little bit, the town would be much more interesting. My feeling is that you can make it appealing to tourists without having to have TShirt shops on every streetcorner.

I’m also shooting film on this trip. No digital. It’s a bit scary, not being able to look down and knowing that you nailed the exposure, but something in me says “keep it simple; shoot film”. So it’s a Hassie and a couple of lenses, (and an on-camera flash to boot). Again, it’s 1975 all over again…

I do feel that this might be one of my last “treasure hunt” types of road trips. There’s something about this approach that’s bugging me. I’m not sure what. I hate that feeling, when you pull up in front of someone’s house, and you want to shoot something near the street, and I get all nervous that somebody’s gonna shoot me or something. So it ends up being this frantic, hurried approach — grab the camera, set the exposure in the car before you get out, and then get the shot and get the hell out of there. It just feels wrong somehow, even though my intentions are pure. Maybe I need a set of cojones like Garry Winogrand, in those YouTube videos, where he just stands in the streets and points the camera and flash right at the people coming at him — no questions; no “can i do this, do you mind?”; just blast away. But that has never been my style. But maybe that’s why he’s “Winogrand” and I’m just another Schmoe.

The Lingering Effects of GreyGoose in The South

I am not a Drinker. Even one drink, and my entire next day is shot. And inevitably, the next day, I end up in some bad diner, ordering Beige Food on a Beige Plate. May I introduce you to my lunch today: Turkey and Dressing; Fried Corn; Cornbread; Squash; and not pictured: Beige Fried Okra.

They say, “Hey dumbass, drink a glass of water before you go to bed”, but it does not help one bit. I am a lightweight.

The Modern Measuring Stick for Success

I ran across this post today from Joerg. The Alec Soth quote, along with the lingering Chris Buck interview on Rob Haggart’s site, has somehow lodged in my brain, and won’t break free. (Make sure and read Part One of Chris Buck as well, but Part Two is where the meat resides).

I should have labeled this blog post “The Overnight Sensation”. Wasn’t that a famous reference to the band Aerosmith — wasn’t there a quote where Steven Tyler joked about the band being a “Twenty Year Overnight Success”? Years and years and years of playing bad Holiday Inns and nasty clubs, and then one day, as in the snap of a finger, they’re Superstars?

All these posts are about time lines, and about putting in the hours. And about when to “expect success”, whatever that means.

I see it slightly differently from Chris Buck, in terms of assisting. I assisted in Los Angeles and New York and found it enormously educational. You learn how to deal with clients. You learn how to put on a production. You’re exposed to high-quality make-up and hair and styling. All of these things, even subconsciously, becomes your bar that you set for yourself, when you strike out on your own. (I remember arriving in Los Angeles, the first time, to assist, and I lived with two other assistants in Studio City. I was a green kid from Kentucky — one step up from a mullet. One Saturday, we were having a backyard BarBQ and they sent me to the store for a loaf of bread, and I came back with a loaf of Bunny Bread (white bread), (the bread I was raised on), and they laughed at me and kicked me back into my car to go get a “real” loaf of bread — not sponge bread.

Imagine only working in a WalMart portrait studio in small town America. What would you really ever be exposed to, other than how to run a WhiteLightning power pack and how to open a Bogen umbrella, and how to run a cash register.

I advise all young photographers to assist, and to assist for several years. I even advise fully committing yourself to this task, and even putting your own camera aside for a few years. I’m not advocating to stop thinking for yourself, or to stop seeing for yourself, but to really committing yourself to SERVING someone else and fully be in that role for a short period of time. (Trust me, once you get out on your own, shooting your own stuff, you’ll wish for sure that you could find someone that was fully committed to assisting; if you find them, you’ll probably hire them full time). In short, if you’re going to assist, be the best damn assistant that you can be. There are plenty of years left to shoot.

I take things from that Alec Soth quote even for myself, at age 49. There’s something about shooting digital that says “fast fast fast”, in a way that might not be so good. I know when I shoot something on digital, I feel this rush to get back to the computer to process it and SEE it. Maybe, just maybe, it would be time better spent to just hang in that same location for a while, instead of quickly heading back to the computer. Maybe whatever’s meant to happen in that location hasn’t fully happened yet. Maybe there’s more to shoot. There’s something about shooting 220 film again in the Hasselblad that’s made me slow down, (“because I know I the film lab is not running C41 until Tuesday, and today is Sunday! Oh, the crisis — to have to wait THREE DAYS to get the film run!”)

But you could take that same mentality and zoom it out to “success in your career”. When SHOULD you succeed? When you’ve been shooting for three years? Five years? Ten years? And what defines success? Your first solo show, (but you’re still living with three other people in Williamsburg?) Or your first ad campaign, (but you’ve got to borrow money to rent the gear?) I’m not even sure what I’m saying here, but I do meet a lot of young people that seem bewildered. They’re not really busting ass shooting, but they’re still bewildered. I kinda liked that line about Chris Buck living with his parents in order to save money. Definitely won’t win him any “cool awards” but you might not argue with where he is in his life right now. I don’t know him, but he seems like a nice guy. Seems to have his values right and his head on straight.

If I had any advice:

1. Assist only for the people who’s work you really love.
2. Live near a good magazine store, (like that one on 42nd, between 6th and 7th).
3. Live way below your means.
4. Avoid credit cards, beyond the basics to rent a car.
5. Keep a good group of friends that’ll push you, and tell you the truth.
6. Live near a good pizza place, and Indian restaurant. (Nothing to do with photography; I just love pizza and Indian food).
7. Watch out that you don’t accumulate too much STUFF. Stay lean and mean. (My friends are laughing now).
8. Assist, because it’s a great way to see the world, (on someone else’s dime).
9. Be patient.
10. Go to the gym. (This last one is for me).

Addendum added Dec. 17: The classic assisting story is usually Hiro assisting Avedon, (for many years). I couldn’t find much on the web, but I did stumble on several posts from a guy named Earl Steinbicker, who assisted Avedon in the 50’s and 60’s:

Link One.

Link Two.

Link Three.

Link Four.

These are obviously out of date, but it still shows clearly what you’re exposed to when you commit to assisting someone great, early in your career.

Sunday drive in Nature

Clyde insisted on being taken to the park today. So off we go. He’s sniffing around, and we come upon a wild herd of reindeer and bunnies, right in the middle of the city.

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

And then, headed home, we’re confronted by giant heads on the side of the Christie’s bus, on 8th Avenue South. It’s just too weird, when you’re about to fork right on 8th, with that awful Greek statue in front as well. I know this has absolutely nothing to do with Nature, but this scene is just so weird that you can’t just drive on by.

(click to enlarge)

2009 Jack Daniels “Squires” calendar shipping

This week, our most recent Jack Daniels project hit the mail. This one is called “Hidden Places”; some of the little-known, undiscovered morsels of Lynchburg, Tennessee, (which is hard for a place where the population is only 361). Click on the photo above, or follow this link, and just keep hitting the Right Arrow.

Art Director: Jeff Porter
Creative Director/Writer: Nelson Eddy
Assistants: Derrick Hood, Casey Brooks, Joel Hood
Clothing Stylist/Props: Shannan Shepard
Pull A Rabbit Out Of a Hat: Randall Fanning

Here’s also the video of the barnstormer flying over us:

Glasses Lying Everywhere

Glasses lying on coffee table

Was having some tea and checking email, and glanced down to see a nice little play on light and images, through an extra pair of reading glasses.

Revisiting my Hometown: Childhood Memories

Our grocery story building (now a dance studio)

Yesterday, I drove up to visit my mother and go to lunch. She’s 78. As we’re driving through town, I looked over at the building that my father used to lease, when I was a kid. We had a chain of grocery stores, similar to a Mapco, or SevenEleven. Right in the main drag of Bowling Green, Kentucky. From the time I was twelve years old or so, I worked in this building, bagging groceries, and later running the cash register. It’s so strange when you spend so much time in a building, and then you come back later, and it’s another type of business. What caught my eye, as we drove by yesterday, was that the entire length of all the plate glass windows — maybe thirty running feet — was made up of these trophies. Very surreal, even if I’d never spent any time there. There were these red curtains covering all the plate glass, so that added this odd mystery to the building. What was going on inside? No sign of any sort; just red curtains. At first glance, it came off more like a porn place than a dance studio. But then, these trophies in the window, running off into eternity.

{Link to larger image).

I’ve always liked that Winogrand quote, about how he liked to wait a good while to edit a project, to let the related emotions wear off of the images. Like they were attached to the photos or something, but eventually, they would fade away. He didn’t want his memories of the being there to affect how he judged the photos. For me, looking at this image of this building, with these trophies, this picture means SO MUCH to me, but it’s because I spent about seven formative years of my life there, learning how to talk to people, and how to show up for work on time, and how to stock a grocery shelf. Yet, I can see how someone detached, unrelated, would look at this photo, and think WTF? it’s just a brick building.

I can remember back to maybe the mid 60’s, and in this small town, there was a very old law on the books — they called it “The Blue Law” for some reason. It required every business to be closed on Sunday. (Small town in the south). But my father saw it otherwise, and he began to open this store on Sunday, and then the Christians clamped down, so the word got out that the Sheriff would be there to arrest him when he opened on one particular Sunday. The local TV news crew was there to photograph it. He turned the key to open the door, and they arrested him on the spot. Seemed highly dramatic and scary at the time, but now, seems hilarious.

So then, going home on I-65, I look over and see this classic mobile home, sitting alone in a large field, but decorated with Christmas lights. This golden light coming out of the blue darkness. All that was missing was the required Trans-Am, or ‘69 Camero, parked out front. Somewhere in the distance, a banjo was playing.

Mobile Home, right off of 65.

{Link to larger image).

You know you’re a Loser when…

… you use a Banana from your scheduled Oatmeal/Banana/Raisins breakfast for an Incense Burner. Yet, oddly, it works so well — an almost limitless amount of choices in where to stick the next incense, (to cover the smell of the cocker spaniel). I should send my invention to the Swiss Miss girl.

Yet another banana gives its life for a secondary greater calling.

Committing to your “F.U. Book”

Someone sent me this link the other day; an article written by Doug Menuez. At first, it seemed like another one of those Dr. Phil or Ian Summers things, where you’re supposed to hug your Inner Child, or Follow Your Heart, or do ReBirthing and Get Back In Touch. But as I read on, he got past a lot of that and did make some good points. One in particular was about really spending some time, identifying what is unique about the way that only you see the world, and then creating a book that’s filled with that, instead of sitting there, trying to fill your book with impressive tearsheets that you think will impress some Art Buyer somewhere. But really honing in on — “What is it that I do better than most anyone?” Or I think of it this way, “What is it that I do that would make someone from Manhattan want to fly me there, rather than hiring just another local person?”

The thing in the article that really stood out was his concept of creating what he called a “Fuck You Book”. This book would be the one where you put it all on the line, and say, “This is who I am”, and you roll the dice. I love that concept. I’ve tried it a couple times, then chickened out.

I was talking to a friend on the phone the other day, and he told me, “So what would be in YOUR Fuck You Book today….?” It sorta took me aback for a second. Not sure I had an immediate answer for him, but it certainly got my wheels turning.

“Milk” in theatres now. Don’t miss it.

Above is the trailer. And below, well, is just another reason to know the truth about the FoxNews channel. After the Fox clip ends, there’s also some nice quotes from Milk himself, before his death.

Sean Penn knocks it out of the park in this film. Oscar-worthy for sure. And somehow, with the inauguration right around the corner, this is a good film to see. Don’t miss this film.

Odetta Holmes, 1930-2008

Here’s a nice Obit in the NY Times too. Anyone that influenced Bob Dylan is alright by me.

Lauren Greenfield: “Kids and Money”

Screengrab of Lauren Greenfield's site

Related to my post yesterday about AdBusters Magazine “Buy Nothing Day”, Lauren Greenfield’s film “Kids and Money” previewed on HBO yesterday. Perfect timing, I might add. Lauren Greenfield has her finger on the pulse of America, (or at least, the caffeine-fueled pulse of L.A.). With so many photojournalists trying to find an avenue for their work, and to stay current and relevant, she seems to have found the key. She gets it — she’s about the STORY, (and also the proper medium), and not just about individual photographs. She’s thinking big.

Nov. 28th: Buy Nothing Day

Detroit Auto Problems: Sad Song or Proper Karma?

One lonely potted plant in Lobby of Waller Buick, Lafayette Ave, (click/enlarge).

This morning, I was headed downtown for a hot cup of strong coffee at a new place called Crema Coffee. (May I suggest the Cuban, if you go there; light on the sweet milk). Anyway, headed there, I missed my turn, and continued on down Murfreesboro Road. When I got to Waller Buick, my jaw dropped, because it was deserted. Empty. A ghost town. This is a Buick dealer that, over the years, ended up right in the middle of a pretty rough neighborhood, yet, when you’d drive by there, the windows were always clean, and the grass was mowed, and it held its head high. It’s been there for as long as I’ve lived in Nashville, (27 years).

For some reason, I continued on down Murfreesboro Road, because there’s always something “colorful” to see. Whether it’s the Drake Motel, or a sidewalk drug deal, something interesting is always going on. When I got to the old Chrysler dealership, it too was vacant. Again, shock. Then I remembered Performance Ford on Charlotte was empty, and also Bill Heard Chevrolet on I-24; both also abandoned. Maybe it was the grey day, or the weirdness of Murfreesboro Road, or all the news stories I’ve been reading, but at that very moment, I just got the feeling that we’re all entering a new era. I’m not sure what the New Rules are going to be, but there’s just a creepy feeling out there right now.

What a strange time. Memories of being a kid, and being drug around car dealerships by my father. He would usually trade cars every year, and it was a big moment when he’d pull into the driveway with a new car, and we’d pile in and go for a ride. Would this continue to be America without GM and Ford?

But then growing up, and experiencing the slimey sales practices of untold numbers of car dealers. Everyone has a list of underhanded stories attempted by car dealers. (Once, a salesman at Beaman Pontiac asked me to take my checkbook “to his boss” to show him that I was serious about buying; then, when the deal fell apart, he held me hostage by refusing to return my checkbook). There is probably a Google database out there somewhere of all the bizarre stories of car dealership shenanigans.

So I go back home and picked up the camera, and headed back out. These photographs below are not much to speak of as photographs, but to me, these are just recorded documents of current times. I just wanted to shoot the pictures, for the record.

Waller Buick service area, Lafayette Avenue, (would make great photo studio!..)(click/enlarge).

Performance Ford, White Bridge Road, (click/enlarge).

Chrysler dealership, Murfreesboro Road, (click/enlarge).

Abandoned motel, Bell Road exit (next to Heard Chevrolet, which was locked tight) (click/enlarge).

Laptop Theft, and What To Do Next

Partial leftovers of my dining room window

Last Sunday, around noon, I left to go grab a (sorry imitation) bagel and lox at my local joint. Sun was out, weather was nice, birds were chirping. As I was leaving, and regretting the carbs, my cell phone rang; it was my neighbor across the street. Said he’d seen a guy jump my fence, and headed down the street with a 17″ laptop under his arm. “Do you own a silver laptop?”, he asks. My heart sank. I knew immediately what had happened.

I hung a left, and headed home, and sure enough, the bay window in my dining room had been bashed out. Double-pane, insulated glass; it must have taken some brute force to break it. A pretty ballsy move — broad daylight, no one at work, everyone having lunch at home. My neighbor told me what he’d seen, and then the cops arrived — guns drawn, moving through my house, room after room, in case the guy was still inside. How very very surreal.

He’d wrapped a large rock in a shirt (found on the ground outside the window), bashed the glass, reached for the desk and pulled it over to the window. Laptop was on the desk. Turns out, he’d never even entered the house. The whole thing was over in maybe fifteen seconds, I’m betting. Even if the alarm had been on, the motion detector would not have seen him.

I live in what they call a “transitional neighborhood”, (which basically means that I’ve lost less money on my house than in other areas). I’ve been here three years, and the area has improved dramatically. I just got too complacent, and got too sloppy about having too much exposed from the street. So this is partially my fault. I’ve just got too much “California” in me; wanting to throw open the windows and the blinds, and live that way. No more.

So now begins the mental Freakout — the realization that i needed to get to the other Mac and change all my Passwords. (I’d disabled the “password needed to wake from sleep” the night before, ironically).

I realized later that I’d had UnderCover installed on this laptop. I’d recommend this to anyone who travels with their laptop. Make sure and register it, though, otherwise it’s worthless. Undercover is sort of a Poor Man’s LoJack — if a thief tries to log onto the internet after stealing your machine, Undercover secretly sends out a certain type of private signal back to the home company, and they can possibly even track it to the IP Address where the Mac is being used. I doubt if I’ll ever see that Mac again, but it would be cool to know it was off the streets, and not being hacked for passwords. Personally, I would have loved to have bought the UnderCover option where a hand comes out of the bottom of the laptop and firmly grabbed the scrotum of the thief, but that was not offered when I bought the software.

I’ve also ordered those stainless steel security cables with combo locks now; I’ll secure the other computer to the steel desk that it’s sitting on. That might slow someone down. Also, I have a friend who is very methodical about how he sets up his traveling machine. Below is his list; please email me, or write in the Comments section if you have any other good tips for setting up traveling machines to avoid exposure.

Mark,

This is all that’s on my laptop at any given time. No exceptions:

A) Password protected Mac. A password is required when starting or waking from sleep. Although I might consider turning off the password requirement when making a border crossing. I don’t use File Vault because I don’t have any sensitive data on the machine.

B) Firefox browser only. No Safari, Explorer or Camino. I have the default Firefox setting for cookies and history set to clear after closing. There is no retained history saved. No bookmarks saved and no passwords saved. No autofill of forms allowed.

C) No Office apps. For word processing I use GoogleDocs. No local copies of any documents are kept on the machine. No PDFs either. Any document I need is accessible via web.

D) FTP application renamed and hidden. I use Transmit for FTP and “Back to Mac” for remote access. Both of these apps have been renamed and set to not remember login info or passwords. After using either I clear “recent items” from the finder menu.

E) No sync services enabled.

F) No accounting software. Having this on a laptop is beyond insane.

G) No email client. I use web mail and it requires a 16 digit alpha numeric password. I’m amazed that anyone would travel around with an open door to their business and personal life which is what IMAP email offers. Whether it’s on a laptop, blackberry or iPhone if someone gets IMAP access to your email they can really own you. I have email on my mobile phone but it is a forwarded copy so I can read it and then delete it if it’s sensitive. Furthermore if my cell phone is stolen or confiscated I can turn off it’s access immediately and stop further receipt of forwarded messages. The phone only has POP access to a mailbox that is routinely cleansed.

H) No Address Book. If I need an address I access via doc mac web interface or by home machine. Address Book is still on the machine but left blank.

I) No use of Keychain. No saved passwords of any type are saved anywhere on my laptop.

J) Photoshop CS3, Lightroom and Photo Mechanic. All unmodified. There are no other apps besides these.

K) Local folders of raw files and work in progress. (unencrypted and unprotected). As soon as a shoot is copied to my home machine I delete these files.

The Tiny Great Wizard

The Great Wizard, only three feet tall. (click/enlarge).

My cocker spaniel, Clyde, stays with some friends across town when I’m gone. A few days ago, he was met by a special character that he’d never encountered before. This character lives under the tree in the back yard, next to the bunny house.

I like to line things up

Room 1207, 32nd St and Broadway, NYC (click/enlarge)

Do you think that’s kinda RainMan? I like things to be straight. I also like things to be divisible by four, whenever possible.

This picture looks like something Timothy Archibald would post on his blog. I’ve never even met Timothy Archibald, but I’m betting he’s a good guy.

God, looking at that picture, you’d think I was staying in a Russian prison.

Last-minute NYC trip to see friends

So I hopped on a Southwest flight to Islip on Thursday, to see some friends and to have the courage to venture into Javits again for Photo East. Weather has been amazing; unusually warm for this time of year. I spent the day yesterday with some friends, and then walked over to Javits this morning. I wanted to see the new Leica S2 camera, and maybe even the Sinar 65. Roger Gibbs texted me during the day, and he showed me these amazing little books from Pikto.

Random things:

1. After all these years of arguing with Joerg Colberg of Conscientious, we finally met last night. He was out with the wild man Rob Haggart and Andrew Hetherington, and even though I thought I was in for the night, they harrassed me til I hopped in a cab and met at this German beer garden. It was fun to meet Joerg and Rob for the first time. Andrew was great, as usual. I pulled out the Hassie at the end of the night, (to try to one-up the Dan Winters portrait on Rob’s site), and a writer at the table was shocked that “you had to wind the camera”, as if the Hasselblad was a Deardorff with collodion or something. How quickly that digital has taken over this culture! If I got anything sharp of Andrew or Rob, I’ll post it later. No light in the garden even at 800 asa. Either it was me moving, (or maybe Rob). I presented Rob with his Business Plan that would set him for life, but he was not in the mood to talk serious business. And the big question of the night was: “Who’s taller: Rob or Joerg?” I felt like that famous little tiny point guard on that one NBA team.

2. Here’s a random frame from 36th street today, across the street from Javits. A guy stops and feeds the birds. Pardon the iPhone quality:

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3. And then, later, walking home, you get that classic wonderful New York moment, when, after so much time spent here, you see a building that you’ve never seen, and it knocks you down. Corner of 36th, and Broadway. The iphone photo doesn’t do it justice — massive columns, completely majestic:

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4. And a quick snapshot inside the show: fine fellow Yair Shahar, from Leaf in London, with Billy Jim, (and Baxter the wonder dog), (who goes everywhere with Billy), and Roger Gibbs, at the Leaf booth.

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5. Roger carried me over to the Pikto booth. It’s a new company similar to Asuka, Blurb, and Fastback, but with great prices, nice papers, and a great matte finish option for their covers.

6. Spent most of the day trying to decipher the differences between the Afi Leaf body, and the Sinar Hy6, and the Rolleiflex body. They all seem relatively the same at first, but once you dig deeper, there are lots of differences.

Sidenote: The shocker of the day is that the Sinar 65 and the Emotion 75 will fit onto my old-timey Hasselblad 203FE, with an adapter plate. I thought no back other than the Hassie CFV would fit onto my camera. The downside is that you’ve got to have a cable between the back and the body but I might learn to deal with that. $18,000 for the Sinar 65, plus $2k for the plate. Not bad at all.

Anyway, back to Hy6: The Leaf back has this wheel that rotates the chip, inside the back, whereas with the Sinar back, you simply grab the back and rotate the back. You don’t even have to press a button, like you did with the old Fuji 680 film back, when you went from horizontal to vertical.

While the Leaf back has the somewhat sexy option of wifi-ing to the Iphone, and the Sinar does not, I left there liking the Sinar rotating back much better than the Leaf design. I just have a fear that I’d shoot a shot with the back in the wrong orientation with the Leaf design. With the Sinar, it’s easier to just look down at the back and see the orientation of the LCD, either horizontal or vertical. With the Leaf, you have to look at this tiny icon. To me, advantage Sinar. The Sinar was around $25k for the body, the 80, and the 65 back. The back they had was not a final firmware back, and it wasn’t operating properly, (which gave me pause), but they promise to be shipping by December of this year. The LCD was large and tight on the Sinar65; easily as good as the 1ds3. (The Leaf LCD was not nearly as good as the Sinar).

Then, we ventured over to the end wall of Javits, and we found this company, Direct Source Marketing, that imports the Rollei verison of the Hy6. They were so out of the way that I wondered if it was some fly by night company, under the radar, like some rogue camera importers or something. They were showing the 90 finder, which is SWEEET, with a beautiful large image, (though distorted slightly like the H1 finder). But the image magnification in the 90 finder was much larger than the 45 finder. This company was also showing the completed 6×6 film back (!); it shoots 120 or 220; just move the setting one way or the other. 6×6 film, or 645 digital, all in one camera solution.

Wow, sorry, this post turned somewhat geeky, but I’m still looking for a way to migrate back to MF digital for commercial jobs. I’m just not a 35 Guy.

My real apprehension about Sinar is the reputation for spotty service and support in the USA. I mentioned that to the rep guy, and he says they’re working on it, making changes. Time will tell.

7. File this one under “The Economy Sucks”. When you’ve got a situation where a booth rental inside of Javits is big-time money, but your budget is down, what do you do? Here’s what you do — you take that golf kart out of your garage, and slap some Home Depot shelving on it, print out some logos on your Epson printer, and you convert it to a camera store! Park it on the sidewalk in the front door of Javits, bring some rolls of quarters to feed the meters, and you win the award for “Most Inventive Booth”:

Welcome Home, Enjoy Your Stay

Church Outdoor Board next to Freeway, Bowling Green, Kentucky (click/enlarge)

So I’m driving to see my mother on Sunday, to try to not talk to her about the stock market, and Fox News, and the like, and I’m entering the city limits, and it’s a beautiful day, and the sun is out, and an old Bob Dylan record is playing in the car, and Clyde is asleep in the back, and THEN, that damn billboard slaps me in the face, again. That same billboard that always greets me as I enter the city limits. But this time, I say, screw it, i’m gonna photograph that thing so maybe I won’t see it again. What a buzzkill for a nice Sunday morning.

(Added Oct 17th:) You can barely see the church, right next to the outdoor board. Even weirder, right next to the outdoor board is this really old cemetery, and I mean like ten feet away. The cemetery has one of those victorian wrought iron fences around it; it feels like the Salem Witch Trials or something. Don’t you just know that the Chamber of Commerce loves that — you’re pulling into the city, and this is what greets you. Open arms embracing new visitors.

You can just imagine what the church is like inside — a massive congregation of disgruntled citizens, scowling their way thru the hymns every Sunday morning. No smiles, no joy; only maintaining their single focus on telling women what they can and can’t do with their own bodies.

Stressful Dreams for Stressful Times

I always wonder what other people dream. I’m also curious when I dream the same dream over and over; like it’s lodged in my brain like a Mexican burrito or something. Stuck. Here are the two dreams that I dream over and over and over, although the first one might now stop:

A) My dogs are going to get run over by a truck. So it’s always me, alone, on some sidewalk in some city, and off in the distance I can see either my cocker spaniel, Clyde, or my old blue heeler, Dottie. They’re always about a block and a half away — far enough that I can’t get to them, but close enough for me to see them. I watch them as they bob in and out of traffic, kinda like that Eddie Murphy scene in “Bowfinger” when he’s on the freeway, but maybe the traffic is not so fast. There are always multiple close calls, where I see her disappear behind a car, but always always, the car would never hit her, and she’d always emerge. I’ve had one variation or another of this dream for maybe twenty times.

B) The commercial photo session dream. This dream, like the other, always takes on slightly different content, but the overriding feeling is one of stress and anxiety. I call it “the photo session that can never get going”. It usually starts out fine, and it’s me, and about four assistants, and some band, or talent, and we get to the first Location, and we start unloading the grip truck, and they start setting up silk frames, and the light is fine, but I know that the good light won’t last forever, so that’s when the stress starts. At that point, everyone sorta slows down, and things begin to happen that get in the way of me actually shooting the first picture. Maybe someone says, “Hey, let’s eat something”, or “let’s go look at that location over there”, or any number of diversions that prevent me from actually beginning the session. At some point, I realize that about six hours has passed, and instead of it being 10am, it’s now 4pm, and we haven’t even shot the first polaroid yet. I look around me, but no one cares — everyone’s having a good time, but in a real slow motion kinda way. So I’m stressed to the gills now, thinking that the whole damn job is going down in flames, and I won’t even have one setup to show anyone.

I’ve had that dream maybe twenty times too. Different content, but always the same “4pm and we haven’t done squat” sort of feeling.

Cremating a dog: Very surreal

So a few days have passed, and I finally get the nerve to drive over to the vet’s office and pick up the ashes. I walk in and ask, and they reach up on this shelf, where there are above five or six identical purple gift bags, like something you’d get at Macy’s. They go thru them and find Dottie, and gently hand me the bag. I pay the tab, thank them, and leave. How bizarre.

So the bag sits on my kitchen counter for about another three days before I open it. Hell, I can’t even look in the bag, let alone remove the case. But finally, I did — a hard white plastic container that weighed about three pounds. (She weighed 28 in real life). But that’s as far as I’ve gotten — no idea if I should do anything with them. A friend of mine showed me her grandmother’s ashes once; they’d been stored in her father’s house for years. I think they even lost them for a short period.

So surreal. Those are coins in the photo, sitting beside her case. Click to enlarge, for scale.

Saturday: Children’s Theatre and Doll Hospital

I have decided that if I ever have business cards printed again, it will read: Mark Tucker, Face Collector. Is that too shallow a goal in life? Why is it that I can sit and stare at an interesting face for so long? (Scroll down for photos).

So, I get up early on Saturday morning and try to seek out some ASA 400 220. Rehearsal for my friends Brent and Diana’s daughter was to begin at nine am, at our local quaint little Belcourt Theatre. Their daughter, Maya, was cast as part of a set of siamese twins, named, ironically, MayaMaya. The performance starts this weekend. So there she is — inside a costume with another Maya; so wherever one goes, the other must follow. I also photographed the diabolical evil character in the play, complete with real beard and devilish eyes.

Then, later that afternoon, across the street at Fido in Hillsboro Village, Bob Bernstein hosted the annual Stuffed Animal Hospital. It’s a great little event where real nurses come from Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital, and they sew up and repair the tattered dolls of children in the community. Bob’s mother in law was here from Mexico, to see the newborn baby, and while I’d come to photograph kids, her face was incredible.

Maya-Maya, not separated at birth. (click to enlarge).

One of two maidens. Sadly, no speaking lines. (click to enlarge).

The Evil and Diabolical Richard, author of the play. (click to enlarge).

Maiden #2, with Green Goblet. (click to enlarge).

Bob's mother-in-law from Mexico, seeing the baby.

Bob's newborn, and Chuck's daughter, (Meg Tilly lookalike). (click to enlarge).

I love Dolly Parton

I was in the car today, on the way to visit my mother, and I flipped on NPR by mistake, trying to find that Cat Power CD. It was a Weekend Edition interview about her “9to5″ play launching in LA and then onto Broadway. She talked about being a child, and seeing “the town tramp”, and just loving the way she dressed and wore her hair. From that point on, she wanted to pattern herself after “the town tramp”. I just love her unabashed honesty.

But one key line stuck with me, when the interviewer guy asked her about what it was like to now be able to “do her own music”. The implication was that, for most of her career she’d simply bitten the bullet and done what was commercially viable. Maybe that’s true; I’m not to say. But her response was great; she said, “Finally, I realized that I was rich enough to act like I was poor again”.

Of course, everyone wants to do their unique calling when they’re 22 or 28 or whatever, but sometimes, (even though it gets slammed by the Conventional Wisdom), it’s good to pay your bills, and build your nest, so that you have the financial freedom to do what you want, later in life.

The link to the interview is above. Her joy is infectious.

Pre-Debate Obama Rally, 10/7/08: Two Portraits

Obama supporter, and button maker. (click to enlarge).

Child with Mother. Corner of 21st Avenue and Magnolia. (click to enlarge).

Some things ought not fade away

I snuck away and shot some film. Hassie 203 with 110 lens.

This is not a techie post. So let’s be clear about that. So please, no comments about “film vs. digital”. But I’ve been keeping a secret for the past few months — I secretly (re)bought my old film cameras again. I admit it — I miss shooting film. I miss film grain. I miss the square. I miss a giant viewfinder. I miss having a day or so after shooting a picture, and then having the surprise of opening the film envelope and seeing what I shot, (instead of squinting at the Canon LCD instantly).

I have no illusions — for commercial projects, for the most part, film is dead. At least for me. Clients are spoiled to shooting tethered. It doesn’t even surprise me anymore when they say, “We need it all tomorrow”. And honestly, if I was to grit my teeth and admit it, many times the picture is made better if the AD can stand there and see the laptop as I’m shooting, and offer his/her input on the spot. Some times, two heads ARE better than one. Or maybe it’s simple feedback like “Hey, dumbass, this ad is vertical; not horizontal. Didn’t you see the PDF? Turn the camera”.

So I know that digital is here to stay, but like some sappy Romeo and Juliet scene, that still can’t kill my love for an old metal 203 Hasselblad, and big heavy lenses, and a giant viewfinder, and a square frame. It just can’t kill it. So now, whenever I can, I sneak in a roll or two of film. Just for me. Just for my soul. Nobody has complained yet.

We just completed an incredible job for a children’s hospital. With all the dreariness of the market crash, it’s easy to get down in the dumps. But on this last project, I met the most amazing doctors — people who are doing incredible things in medicine, and then when there are children involved, and they’re saving them and making their lives better every single day, it just gives you hope for society. The girl above is now a vital, spunky, feisty nine-year old — healthy as a horse. When I heard her real-life story, it just took my breath away — doctors doing amazing things under crunch conditions.

We did her main setup, and then we snuck in a couple of rolls of 220 color neg, just in case the agency could use it somewhere in the piece. At least that’s what I told them — I really did the shot for me, to look thru that gorgeous 110 lens, wide open at f2, and watch the focus just fall, fall away. Even after 27 years in the business, looking at a great face thru a nice camera is still a joy.

Details on Obama march pre-Debate tomorrow, Nashville

WHAT: Obama Supporters Debate March.
WHERE: 21st/Magnolia, proceeding to Belmont campus.
WHEN: October 7, 2008 @ 4pm.

Local grassroots supporters of the Barack Obama campaign will be marching to the campus of Belmont University shortly before the scheduled town hall debate on October 7th. The event is a kick-off to public visibility efforts that will continue throughout the month and until election day in November. The march will commence with a rally at 21st Avenue and Magnolia Boulevard, then proceed to the Belmont campus. Supporters will be wearing Obama apparel and displaying signs in support of the candidate, as well as cheering on the Obama/Biden Presidential ticket.

The march is intended to take advantage of the media’s focus on Tennessee during the debate, and to demonstrate the strong base of support Obama has in a state that has been “red” in recent elections. “We are excited to bring out our supporters to show the nation that Tennessee is a lot more blue and a lot more progressive than they may think,” said Lucas Leverett – the organizer of the march. “This state is not as much of a certainty as the other side might assume, and we want to be sure the entire country sees what we’re doing down here.”

Roughly 200 people have signed up on the internet to attend the event, and more are committing each day. It will be one of the largest political visibility events in Nashville’s history. Gathering for the event begins at 4:30pm on October 7th, and the rally will kick off at 5pm. The public is encouraged to attend. No RSVP is required, but interested parties may wish to sign up at my.barackobama.com.

Nice gift, and thank you’s to everyone.

Thanks for all the nice notes about little Dottie. I’ve been in a long-hours job for the past two days; maybe that’s better in a way, so it’s not so much on my mind. Weird how I felt the need to wash all her blankets and quilts that she laid on; everything is now fresh and laundered. I also received a nice illustration from my friend Lanie Gannon, (above). It’s amazing the power of a simple note of condolence.

Ironically today, as I was leaving my neighborhood coffee house, a woman was walking a Blue Heeler on the sidewalk. She was a purebred, with those classic features — the barrel chest, the detached emotional style, and even the trademark bandanna around her neck. I risked coming off like a weirdo, and stopped the woman on the sidewalk and asked her about her dog. (Not only does her Heeler attack the garden hose, it also attacks the vacuum cleaner hose as well. There must be a lot of snakes in Australia!).

Dottie in park last year -- blind, deaf, but happy (Clyde in background)

Dottie as a baby.

Sad Day; little Dottie.

3:45pm today. Right at the end. What an amazing dog.

Sad day today; Dottie was 15 1/2. I was here in the garage, retouching a job, and she was asleep beside me on the floor in her bed. She went into a pretty bad seizure. Rushed her to the vet, but she never mentally recovered. I brought her home and gave her a haircut and cleaned her up and made a bed in the back yard, and the vet came over and we let her go to sleep. All in all, a pretty awful day. I’d been mentally preparing for it for months, but it was much worse than I thought.

Anyway, we got her when she was tiny; the whole litter had been dropped on the side of the road in a sack. Somebody scooped them up and took them to Humane Society. We fed her with a medicine dropper; warm milk. Not even weaned yet. She loved to swim, and chase extension cords (snakes), and chase garden hoses (snakes), and herd me around by the ankles. I cannot count how many states we’ve been in, during road trips.

She was a fighter til the end; even after that long seizure today, she tried to stand right back up on the vet’s table, but she was too weak.

I got a nice pink sheet, and made a bed; there was a nice cool breeze in the back yard. I am still in shock. It happened so fast it hasn’t even hit me yet.

15 and a half years with one animal. Unbelievable. What an amazing companion.

Back yard of my brother's house, mid-air.

Always ready to ride; here in the old '62 Falcon

Question to Ad Photographers: Swipes in Comps?

Delicate territory ahead: I know how I feel about this issue, but how I feel has little if any impact on the world. Computers are here to stay. Marker Comps are gone forever. Clients want to see Comps, in advance, that are about 99% finished, before they sign off. I wonder how other photographers are dealing with this dicy issue.

In the old days, an ad agency (your client) would sell their client on a concept for a photo based on a Marker Comp. Downloadable swipes were not available; even legally-licensed stock was not available quickly. An illustrator at the agency would create a very crude illustration for the client to sign off on, and that Marker Comp would be carried into the photo session.

But now, with the Mac/Photoshop/InDesign thing everpresent, what I’m seeing is that my clients are producing TWO complete jobs for the client — there is the Comp, which is very tight, with no Greeking Text in place, and then a swiped/legal stock photograph, cropped and in place; THEN, after the photo session, they create a whole new finished/real Document for printing. To me, a massive amount of work, but that seems to be what End Clients are demanding. They seem to want to go into a project with every detail thought out and signed off on.

My question is: How are Ad Photographers dealing with this? Do you bring it up to your client? Do you mention that when they show you a stock image in place, and they say, “This is what the client wants, and then is what they’ve signed off on”, that that is really what they’re hiring you to shoot, even though it’s based on someone else’s photograph? I mean, there are legal ramifications to this practice for the hired photographer.

I wonder if ad agencies even realize these legal ramifications sometimes? I know they feel stuck in the middle, since the current norm seems to be “Show the client a VERY finished working comp, before the photo session begins”. Once it becomes the business norm, it’s hard for any agency to not do tight comps.

Has anyone refused to shoot the comp? How different would you alter it in order to feel OK?

Is this even an issue worth worrying about? I think it is, but I never hear anyone else talking about it out loud. Is everyone just shooting the comp, but then throwing salt over their shoulder, and hoping it never gets noticed?

Delicate territory…

Orphan Works passes Senate

Still has to go thru House, and then to Bush.

Why are the senators’ votes not recorded?

Gov Track site.

And how timely to run it through on a Friday, when we all thought they were working on a Bailout.

And the really sad thing to admit is, I really have no idea how this will affect me, or other photographers, after reading all the propaganda from both sides. ASMP for it; APA against it; who’s to really know what’s best? How to sort thru the information?

Buried

Knee-deep into two large ad jobs. (How do people post stuff every single day? I cannot see how they do it).