From cat-napping in a gold mine to stealing a ride on the Good Year blimp, the press pass around my neck has afforded me access to a life of stilted intrigue. But like the copier salesman who dreams of being a dashing day-trader, I have chased cadaver dogs in the rain while fantasizing about a nine to five desk job. The grass is always greener of course, but when a jostling Sony is riding shotgun on your shoulder and the deadlines are gaining ground, the opposing turf is downright iridescent. Luckily though, I usually find time to reflect before doing anything rash, lest I foolishly remove my self from the chase. True, my years of adrenaline abuse have crystallized into chronic detachment - but even I can get juiced about some of the places I’ve been…
Ever pulled up to a fresh plane crash in a dusty live truck, only to be yelled at by men in windbreakers for driving across the debris field? My Bad!
Ever started a near riot at a middle school pep rally, just by walking across the gymnasium floor? Personally, I’d have killed for that power back in the 7th grade.
Ever waded through an angry crowd outside a midnight murder scene and acted like you belonged there? It’s all in how you carry the tripod.
Ever tried to keep up with a screeching platoon of cleavage and baby strollers as they raced toward a shimmering mirage of desert camouflage? Don’t get caught in the middle...
Ever made elevator small talk with a handcuffed evangelist facing federal charges and widespread scorn? Try to avoid the touchier subjects - like God, politics and reasonable sideburn grooming..
Ever shadowed a prize patrol of corporate cheeseballs they bestowed trailer park residents with fabulous cash and prizes? Watch out for the crush of relatives pouring out of back rooms.
Ever tried like hell to avoid hitting the co-pilot controls with your big lens as the guy in the aviator glasses to your left looks for a place to ’set her down’? Man, I hate when that happens!
Ever jammed a finger in one ear and your cell phone in the other as the packed courtroom around you erupts in unexpected verdict fury? Trust me, spent vengeance has no volume control.
Ever hunkered over an upturned viewfinder as blue-haired college kids walked all around you, waving manifestos on homemade poles while they cursed the cabal behind your logo? Lousy punks.
Ever hid behind your camera as a couch-bound zombie described the loss of a recently-slain loved one? Do yourself a favor - skip that one...