Observations on Photographers

I got myself up and around this morning and was down at the park by 6:30 to watch the morning launch of the Flag City Balloon Fest. I knew it wouldn't going be too crowded at the butt-crack of dawn on a Saturday morning and that there was a possibility of getting some good pictures without too many other people in the way.

By nature, I'm a people watcher. It's one of my favorite pastimes, so rather than get out of my car this morning when I got to the park, I just parked and watched.

The first thing I noticed were the inordinate number of people clutching cameras. And I don't mean little point and shoot numbers either. I'm guessing retail value of the cameras present at Emory Adams Park this morning could fuel the economy of a small, third-world country next quarter. And the photographers clutching those cameras were most certainly an odd, earnest looking bunch of folks. (And I will include myself in this assessment as I did have my camera with me!)

Most of us looked like we had just rolled out of bed. We were wearing clothes that didn't match, as though getting to the park with both eyes open and capable of focusing was more important than just grabbing a random, dirty t-shirt off the bedroom floor at 5:50 or so in the morning. (You can feel free to be amused by the fact that one of the photographer's main concerns in looking at his or her actual photographs is color. . .and how it impacts people's perception of what we are photographing. . .)

I watched one guy who was obviously a newbie at the photography thing and I almost felt sorry for him. He climbed out of his Hummer with a $4,000 camera strapped around his neck. He had a bag full of expensive lenses and at first I thought he must be a professional. But then he betrayed his truly amateur status as a photographer. He reached back into his car, not only for a 64 oz. cup of gas station-mocha-java-latte-blended-caffeine product but also for his very large, very rambunctious dog. . . There's no way in hell that guy is gonna take a good picture of anything, juggling all that stuff. . .

Then there was the very fervent dude with the pants with the million pockets. He was obviously very serious about his hobby. He didn't have coffee. There was no dog pulling on his arms. He had no camera bag. He knew enough to put all his lenses and other paraphernalia in his cargo shorts so he didn't have to mess with a bag that would constantly fall off his shoulders. The problem was, that he was having trouble holding his pants up. Apparently in his Saturday morning stupor, when he found his dirty t-shirt on the floor, he neglected to find his belt. It wasn't slowing him down though. He just kept one elbow pressed real hard at the side of his waist and did a lot of hauling upwards of his drawers. thankfully. . .

There were lots of test-shots being taken, lenses being cleaned, serious-looking tripods being assembled and important looking paparazzo wandering around as everyone wondered when the party was going to start. There were light meters appearing as the most serious photographers began to be concerned about correct exposures.

And apparently no one was noticing how the wind was picking up and how the sky to the west wasn't really getting very light. . . No one except those people who would actually be going up in the air and risking their lives in a hot air balloon.

The disgust was palpable when the event was cancelled, at least among the photographers. The balloon people just looked relieved.

Oh well, at least most of the shutterbugs won't have to change their clothes when they go home and go back to bed. . .