Click!Click!

Flirtatious: " I like the way you pedal that  bike!"

Real Mood? Retroactively enlightened

Prediction: More people will have come alive in California in 2005 than in any of the other state of The United States of America.

I apologize for the gap for the few of you who tell me you tune in regularly.  Peggy and I made a quick driving trip to California so she could retrieve a small SUV's worth of family trinkets. It's just not accurate to call a driving trip to California quick.  But that's a set up for a BLOG of another day. I've got two other topics I want to blend here.

I've been pretty open about what I do for a simi-living, but I've not yet been terribly specific.  I teach college broadcast journalism and performance classes. One of those classes is, "Announcing for Radio and Television." I'm teaching that class this summer.  There is a small body of academic knowledge I like the students to have, like," how many rocks did Demosthenes get in his mouth before he overcame his speech impediment?"  "Please know the difference between the uvula and the larynx."   I also pass on a cruel lesson a college professor imposed on me at their age.  I force them to memorize and chant the first stanza of the "I am the very model of a modern major general" aria from the Pirates of Penzance.  I do it for two reasons.  One, it forces all one's articulation tools to fly all over the face to make language crisp.  The second reason I'm so cruel is simply that reciting this monster makes you very popular if you end up in the announcing business.  I discovered during my career that the length of time it takes to regurgitate this masterpiece, is just about the time it takes for a control room to determine your appropriate voice level. And everyone seems impressed that you are capable of more than, "testing, one, two, three." ( I've known  announcers who would have frozen up if you were to ask them to go to four.)

The only other lesson I consider a "MUST LEARN" in announcing is the simple two word phrase, "Come Alive!" Many students are suprised to hear me say with conviction that announcers don't need to be type "A"  personalities.  You don't need to be bouncing off walls from day break to sundown to make a living with your voice and/or face. But (and here it comes) if you see a light appear on a camera or microphone? "COME ALIVE!"  There are a lot of shy people making good livings as announcers because they learned that lesson.

 

Well, anyway, almost anything you teach needs something illustrative to bring it on home.  Strangely this trip to California paid allegorical dividends in spades.

Ask someone who has moved away from California, "what do you miss about California?" (One of my students Kimmy and I share the having moved away distinction.)  My answer? "The Ocean!" Her answer? "The Beach!" Ninety percent of the responses you're going to get are going to be some variation on that theme. Maybe, if it's true we all came from the sea genetically, we may come up with that watery answer even if we've never been to California.  But I discovered this trip there is something else I miss about California, especially Southern California.

So I have my new camera with me and walk down to the San Gabriel River near my mother-in-law Esther and sister-in-law Nancy's house. I'm thinking I'll go down into the bushes and get some shots of some lizards or coyote pups or something exotic. (I very nearly get some exotic pictures of two gentlemen getting to know each other in broad daylight.)

I take a picture of an old ten can, some grafitti, and a log with some interesting shadows on it before I nearly fall asleep standing up.  So I walk out of the bushes, and  up to a bike path. I notice it's full of people riding bikes.  Some of them are riding their bikes pretty fast.  And they are all dressed up  in colorful fancy clothes and helmuts that look like convolutions of the brain.   "Why don't I take some pictures of them," I say to myself.

So I set up my tripod, switch to my 500 hundred millimeter lens.  Then I work out an f-stop and ISO  that give me a compressed depth of field about a hundred feet down the path. (you know you could be doing this in some parts of the country where they would be yelling at you, "get off the path."  "On your right!"On your left!" "You can't take my picture!" "I'll sue you!"

But this is Southern California. The morning we arrive a cop in a high speed chase rolls over on the 210 Freeway. They shut down the highway while they pull him out with the jaws of life. As we drive by the scene?  There are twelve helicopters hovering over head.  No doubt they are chasing the suspect right? Nope! They are getting pictures of the crash scene for their TV stations. Yes I'm exaggerating, but it looks like the air ambulance has to ask permission from the TV guys to land and take off.

Okay, back to the bike path. Show up in Southern California with a tripod and a long lens (size I guess does make a difference) and you're a pretty popular guy. Cyclist after cyclist would break out in smile as he or she comes in an out of my frame. (he or she also seem to speed up a little bit as they come close)

Anyway I'm getting some pretty decent action shots when this guy you see above, nears my zone.  He is just over my shoulder when he shouts, " am I centered?"  Okay I'm in Southern California. I'm thinking Buddha, Yin and Yang, Scientology, maybe that hothouse Yoga? So in an instant I shout back, "Huh?" He has little time to mess with me.  He throws his arms in the air as if signaling a touchdown. The question becomes more of a demand for information.  "I said AM I CENTERED?" Duh, I get it.  He wants to know if he is centered in my frame? Franticly I scream , "YES! You're centered!"  I reach for the shutter. On cue,  at probably 25 miles per hour, and a hundred feet going way from me, he turns and faces the lens.  Then he breaks out in the smile you see above.  I push the button. A piece of a second has been captured forever.   This guy knows what it means to "COME ALIVE."

Rare, isolated experience? Same day around dusk I'm out setting up my gear outside a nine hole golf course. This course is played by mostly men whose favorite digit is FORE! You wouldn't think they'd be that up to having  their games exposed on film?  Not the case.  The foursome coming up to the tee I'm closest to, see me, and then start pulling out their drivers. As each golfer sets  up his tee,  he is not just lining up his shot for the fairway.  He is also making sure I have  a clear view of the ball, and enough clearance between bushes to get the full swing.

I have a little streak in me I like to call FUN.  Some others, including my wife Peggy, don't always share my descriptive word choice. Anyway, FUN streak in action, I non-chalantly smile at the foursome and say, "Golf Digest."

It's a beautiful thing to watch.  Spines straighten, eyes hug the ground. These wonderfully fluid swings appear out of nowhere.And no one is yellling, "FORE!"  It could be FORE needs to be yelled but would you,  if Golf Digest was watching? These guys also know how to "COME ALIVE!"

"And so class, if you are washing the dishes, or milking the cow, or trimming your finger nails, and I walk up with my Nikon and start adjusting the focus ring? What do you do?

"COME ALIVE!"

Don't let those Californians have all the fun.