What would G. Lee do? What should G. Lee do? These are questions I don't ask myself nearly enough, for once upon a time my little fictional photog was up to his mullet in misadventures. Okay, so G. Lee ain't got a mullet. I think, anyway. Truth is, I don't know an awful lot about the guy - besides the fact he's able to do and say things I don't dare. Other than that, I'm not too clear on who my alter-ego's alter-ego is. Is he a rookie shooter - still learning the art of the grab? Is he a crusty vet - sleepwalking through assignments until that one last deadline? Or is he neither - just some tautological camera hack with a bad case of burnout? On second thought, don't answer that last one. Just know that G. Lee's been on my mind lately - whoever he is. Sure, I could sit down and map out the characteristics, traits and habits of my everyman - but if I was capable of that kind of serious research would I still be slingin' a lens for a living? Ya know, forget I mentioned the whole thing, just nod like you're listening as I run through three ready-made scenarios I may actually get around to writing one day...
Queen of the Scene
On-air she was known as Rhonda Swanson, but everyone in the field called her "Cruella". An insensitive nickname, perhaps - but when it came to localized atrocity, Rhonda always got her man. Homicides, fatal fires, Amber alerts - if there was a widow's porch that needed climbing, Cruella was the person you wanted doin' the 'death-knock'. She just seemed to enjoy it - whether wrenching details from a shattered family member or trading slang with the PO-leece downtown, Cruella was happiest when picking at the ribs of fresh tragedy. That didn't really bother our hero so much - until his drunk Uncle Oz killed a man behind the wheel. Suddenly G. Lee finds himself torn between protecting his kinfolk and assisting this insensitive bitch on her newest exclusive...
Hog Killin' for Dummies
G. Lee thought he had shot it all. Then a hillbilly buddy hepped him to a backwoods tradition that screamed to be on TV. Or so he thought. Truth is, when he agreed to shoot an old timey pig killing for a weekend feature, he didn't really know what he was getting himself or his camera into. But when the trio of good ole boys pulled up to his tripod spot with three full grown hogs they'd just shot in the head, he began to regret all that flat draft beer he'd drunk the night before. By the time, those rednecks strung up the dying swine, slit their throats and relieved them of their entrails, he'd sworn off bacon altogether. That's when things really got weird, and G. Lee soon regretted taking his fancycam down on the farm. Still, he'd always have a tape of that day ready whenever an intern begged him to teach them how to edit...
Unexpected Plummet
By all accounts, G. Lee should have enjoyed this assignment. After all , how often do you get to ride in a hot air balloon with a videocamera and a portable transmitter? Even better, his old flame Jani was along for the ride ... sort of. Actually she was in a different balloon altogether - clutching a cell phone to her ear and attempting to go live(!) as she and G. Lee hopscotched over treetops in two brightly-colored orbs. As far as live shots goes, it was hit and miss. But whenever G. managed to point his transmitter to the distant TV tower while pointing his camera at Jani's balloon, it was morning show gold. Only one problem: the old transmitter on a stick the engineers gave him ran off an ancient car battery. At the moment that very power source sat at his feet, wedged into the bottom of the balloon's basket and leaking wicker-eating battery acid all over its flimsy floor. No wonder he couldn't hold his shot steady...
4 comments:
G. Lee is one of my favorite characters...Probably because I, and any other photog, can relate so easily with his trials and tribulations. Great storytelling. I am truly envious. Keep it up, I look forward to each post.
Leaky battery in balloon? Have I heard this one before?
Any of the three sound good to me. Rene Roussell would be proud of you. The hero of my epic fictionalized tale has just suffered the sudden realization that his current story will not be completed. He just won't do what needs to be done to complete the story line. He ain't the type to hook-up with a whiney, needy broad and desert her on their honeymoon to shoot the story of his life.
Oh well, this failed attempt fleshed out the character. No it's on to find another adventure. One that he might actually finish this time.
I don't see G Lee as a newbie or an old burnout. Somewhere in between, I think...someone who perhaps got into the biz believing in the right of a free press, the fourth estate, and has since become disillusioned by the tragedy he covers and the bull**** of the business side of news. So now he is struggling to come to terms with what he does, how it fits with his own perception of himself...okay, sorry, armchair quarterback.
I remember the hog killing story!!! God, stu, that's OLD TIMES.
I also remember my first "pig picking" - it was the first event my then boyfriend (now husband) took me to in order to meet his family. So there I was, in a line with every one of his cousins, aunts, uncles,inching my way up to the biggest damn grill I had ever seen, and I get up there, and his uncle pops up the top, and there laying on the grate is this big fat pig that looks for all the world like the skeletal remains of the jackal in the cemetary in the movie "The Omen". I thought I was going to pass out. Paul threw some stuff on my plate and moved me on through the line. Blecch.
I vote for fleshing out the first scenario - lots of good tension in that one.....
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