I don’t like it any more than you do, but the guys in legal say I gotta post at least one Year in Review post before close of business hours on said diminishing daypart. I don't really know what that means so I’m getting it out of the way now, in hopes my attornies will submit to my whims more favorably the next time I got half-cocked with teh newspaper people or start firing off Schmuck Alerts. Now then, If you consider yourself a regular - feel free to move along. Newcomers however are invited to browse, as I might not resurect this dreck for at least a couple of fortnights. As for me, I’ll be bookmarking this this one - as the evidence of my obsessions will make for powerful evidence, should I ever have to explain how I spent the evenings of 2007...
JANUARY ... Upon entering middle age, I currupted some Buffet with A Photog Turns 40. I was still looking behind me when something on the ground caught my eye. That's when I found Faro’s Broken Arrow. Only after slogging through that mythology did I return to the station, where I immediately began Stressing the Edit.
FEBRUARY ...Life on the Risers is my attempt to capture just that: the smell of your competitors breath as you lean over for the wide shot. Careful though, studies show it leads to Pixelator’s Twitch. It was all I could think about until I traveled to Lillington and filmed Silence of the Pervs. Yick!
MARCH ... With And the Winner Ain’t I got my britches in a twist - a uncomfortable postion I suffered with for weeks until a certain bald rocker came to town and I soaked for hours in his Remnants of Hipness. By month's end, the rash was all but gone, allowing me to go all TK-76 on your ass with That Seventies Cam. Sorry!
APRIL ...After appearing as Snake Pliskin in Escape from Chocowinity, I told the story of a dude named Dan'l. He carried Rocks in his Pockets. I was about to break out the overalls myself when some loser shot an awful lot of people at Virginia Tech. Soon I was rubbing shoulders with The Scrum and the Numb.
MAY ... In trying to educate the public on how to deal with the chattering classes, I revealed The One Word that almost always makes us go away. Not satisfied, I unleashed a three part treatise on just How I Roll. Stumbling in from the wllderness, I cavorted with reporters at Grahamapalooza.
JUNE ...In Escorting Slobot, we travel back in time to a warped studio floor, where sleepy slackers slow-dance with ornery floorcams. Of course dayshifts are hot and hazy this time of year so I always find A Time to Chill. When I returned I was so refreshed I finally explained just Why I Ditched the Logowear.
JULY ... It isn't just a Zeppelin tune! Communication Breakdown is also what happens when you leave your cell phone on your bumper. It ain't the only gizmo that failed me; my damn fancycam almost gave me a heart attack in Back from Iraq. About then, shit got serious and I thought about The End of Immortality.
AUGUST ...The dog days of summer always hit me hard, which explains the whiny tone of Vaudeville in a Box. In a true story called The Wireless Incident, I get shaken down by a homeless dude with MY hardware. I was so shook up I coughed up a few Confessions of a Failed Reporter and went home to bed.
SEPTEMBER ...Late summer found me in a nautical mood and so I weighed anchor, causing
Tension on Deck. Then Simon freakin' Cowell nearly ran me over and I distinctively smelled the Rot of the Juggernaut. If that weren't enough even the simplest orders continued to befuddle me and I could barely Follow that Bus.
OCTOBER ... Find out just why that schlubby scribe thinks I'm the dolt in A Tale of Two Mediums. See how an innocent bicycle ride turns into a chilling gorefest in Terror at Twenty Plus. Or bathe in the spirit of broadcasts past, as I eulogize an American giant by the name of Slim Short. RUH-spect!
NOVEMBER ...Though my fingers were numb, I still caught a case of the Subterranean Fuji Blues in early November. Then Chris Burrous piped up and demonstrated for all to see just Why They Hate Us. Hanging my head in shame, I used the c-Word repeatedly in Confessions of a Cameraman. Is that so wrong?
DECEMBER ... No sooner had Sweeps ended than every other photog went on vacation, putting me firmly In the Mix. In No Joy in Mudville, I damn near risk my Man Card with a cautionary tale. You might whine too, if you spent eight hours a day staring Through the Looking Glass. Maybe that's why I'm so farsighted.