Roadies of Happenstance

I've absolutely no idea how I'll be spending tomorrow, which is just the way I like it. What I do know is some time between nine and ten a.m., a clutch of co-workers will disperse from a crowded room and with no small amount of snark tell me just what they'd like to see shoved into my news-hole come five o clock. Okay, so it could be at six as well, but the fact of the matter is there's about ninety seconds of dead air with my name on it each day and simply filling it becomes my manifest destiny well before the Seventh Circle of Hell takes shape, er I mean, well before Hoda and Kathie Lee take over the Today Show. Did I mention it never gets old?

Because it does. All jobs do. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's why they pay you in the first place. In my particular case, it's less than a King's ransom. Hell, it falls short of a court jester's clothing allowance - but what's few bells hanging from you hoodie when you're busy living your dream? Don't answer that; just know that my dreams have kinda changed since I worshiped at the feet of that Lou Grant Spin-off. You know, the one where Lou leaves the Mary Tyler Moore universe for a crack at running a city paper? It probably wasn't very good TV, but it sure as hell rung my eleven year old bell. Ever since, I've been infatuated with telling stories under less than stellar conditions. Hmmm? The Suits want a nat sound piece on the sign-language academy? Not a problem...

After all, I'm a photog. Though lacking any official sheepskin, I got a Ph.D. in Making Shit Happen. I also operate under the delusion that I've seen it ALL before - which technically isn't true. Still, it's a mindset that comes in damn handy when you're standing in the middle of the road and some family's beloved homestead is heading your way. It's the kind of assignment that's really pretty stimulating the first dozen time you do it. After that, you start to grouse a little when the hardhats start to dawdle. "Hurry up! I'm On Deadline here!", you want to scream but never do because not so deep down inside you know that the world doesn't operate on your schedule and even if it did, you'd find another highly creative way to bitch about it.

After all, you're a Photog.