Terms and Conditions

If you've ever followed another station's live truck to a breaking news scene you just insisted didn't exist, you might be my kind of photog.

If you've ever waltzed into a press conference that was well underway, set up your sticks in a clattering fashion and still bagged the bite every outlet uses that night, you might be my kind of photog.

If you've ever grown bored watching cops drag a river, cursed the day you picked up a lens, then displayed nothing but grace when the body popped up, you might be my kind of photog.

If you keep a mental inventory of every public bathroom, all night diner and sweeping skyline view within the mid-city metroplex, you might be my kind of photog.

  

If you've ever scanned a jam packed ballroom and found the one politician in the room who didn't want to be on TV that day, you might be my kind of photog.

If you know the glow of a gas station stabbing, have taken a selfie with a cadaver dog and know the best places to eat in the worst parts of town, you might be my kind of photog.

If you can make a grieving mother feel good about sharing her story and live with yourself afterwards, you might be my kind of photog.

If you know how to act when the President comes to town, when the school bus tips over, when the widow reaches for her next clump of Kleenex, you might be my kind of photog.

If you're up to being thrust into danger and doldrums at a moment's notice without letting it turn you into an absolute scab, you might be my kind of photog.

As for the rest of you, there's always the Postal Service.