Thursday, February 01, 2007
Hard Hats, Sore Shoulder
Never knowing where I'll spend each day is the single biggest reason I still sling a lens. That, and I'm w-a-y too absent-minded to become an astronaut, sell life insurance or orchestrate a tri-state crime spree. But that fractured focus serves me well in an occupation that regards tunnel vision as an artform. Take yesterday for instance. Ater whipping the region into a snowpocalyptic frenzy, the suits demanded I go capture the chaos sparked by our dire predictions. Which is how I soon found myself stalking hardhats six stories above Greensboro. It was Jeff Varner's idea to hone in on the unfortunate louts forced to toil in this alledged snowstorm. I protested at first, reminding my weekly partner that we were unfortunate louts forced to toil in the alledged snowstorm and no flights of fancy were needed for our breathless report. He won, of course. Mere minutes after our dashboard debate, I was chatting up developer Roy Carroll as we all shot slowly upward in a rickety, pitch-black elevator. Once atop the fifth floor, I marveled at how the entire 16 story structure jimmied and shook under the punish of multiple jackhammers. Varner did his best to make it up to me - popping off a couple of snapshot for the blog (a sure-fire shortcut to my narcissistic heart). As for where my tripod is in the above frame - relax, my photog purists. It's standing just off screen, but with the floor joists shimmying with every hammer's strike, it proved just as useless as when it tries to walk on its own accord. Wonder where I'll drag my sticks today?