Heavenly day, here it is, my anniversary, and I'm not updating until it's barely still the 5th! Shame on me. Of course, I have a reasonable excuse, in that I was out of town for most of the day.

So happy anniversary to me! Five long years of entertaining you people, day in, day out, through snow and rain and gloom of night, and what do I get? What, I ask you, do I get?

An awful lot, more than you could know. Thank you for being here.

So, yesterday I hied myself to South Jersey for a paying photo gig--no, really! Thank heavens for my friends, because I have no idea how to make anyone else hire me.

A few months ago Melissa wrote me, asking whether I would be interested in shooting publicity pictures for her symphony. We dickered over the price a little bit, and finally agreed on now many pics and how much and having my travel expensed, and it was settled, and then I said:

"Say, just for curiosity's sake, how long after I submit my invoice will I get paid, thirty days?"
"O no, pretty much right after we get it, we'll pay you."
"Really? Seriously? We sure don't do that around here!"

So yesterday was the day, and I took the Greyhound bus to Darkest Jersey, because Melissa is mean and forced me to take a form of transportation that only college students and rummies take!

Except that it wasn't, actually. Greyhound has really improved since I last was anywhere near it, which was around a decade ago, I believe. It was very comfy and clean and nice and not smelly near the bathroom. It was too hot, but that was really the only thing wrong. I sat down and immediately fell asleep for the whole ride.

Melissa was there to pick me up at the station, and we went to the rehearsal with only one stop at a 7-11 type of place where I got my very first Tastykake, which was exactly as advertised, being both tasty and cake. Or rather, kake.

We went to the place, where the orchestra had been ratcheted into evening dress, all but a couple of nimrods who had forgotten. One actually rather gorgeous long-haired aging surfer-boy violinist, whose picture I took a couple of times because he was such a babe, and a dorky bearded guy who looked like a panhandler in his khakis and sandals with white socks and flat black cap like Eliza Doolittle's father, who I shot around, and a percussionist in a Black Sabbath t-shirt who looked like he had wandered into the wrong building.

Fortunately, Surfer-Boy and Eliza's Father sat right by each other, so they were easy to shoot around, and the percussionists were rarely in my sight-line.

So, I was standing there, ready to start, and I had my regular flash of "Holy shit, this is the time when all will be revealed, that everyone will find out that I have no idea what I am doing, that I have been riding on luck and instinct all this time, and both will fail me miserably!" Then I start and everything is fine, but I always think that this will be the time that I look at the contact sheets and see nothing but shit. Out-of-focus, uninspired, dull shots of all the wrong things.

We'll see when I get the film back, but since I took seven rolls, there should be one or two frames out of the 252 that I shot that don't make me physically ill. One can only hope.

I started on the lip of the stage, shooting the violins, viola and cellos, but then I realized that if I was going to make it look as though the orchestra consisted of anything other than strings, I would have to figure out a way to burrow into the back.

Between the movements, I took the opportunity to squeeze by the very last little second violinist, and there I was, amongst the woodwinds and brass. And that was when I started getting really comfortable, because I just started crawling between the rows, shooting forests of trombone slides, and a really beautiful blonde trumpeter.

They took out the brass and woodwinds for the next piece, leaving a lovely spot for me in the middle, and that was when I took the shots of the percussionists (except for heavy-metal boy), the double basses, different angles of the cellos and violins, and some action shots of the conductor, once I waved away a woman sitting in the audience in my sight-line.

I think that a completely empty house behind the conductor is much less distracting than having one rather bored-looking woman behind him. It looks like the least-popular orchestra in the world, not exactly what you want for publicity shots!

I took some slightly artsy shots that were really just for me, but then Melissa mentioned that the web designer doing their site had asked her if she had any shots of just people's hands, so there should be something in there that will make him happy!

All in all, an evening's work well done. I hope.

Today's horoscope:
Slow, sensuous and savoring is the style. Trade back rubs with someone you love and ENJOY! Share food and mutual pleasure.

One year ago today:
And thus is history made.

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Last Updated Sun 6 May 01:28:09 2001