Early Morning
Early morning fog. One of these days I’ll get lucky and the wolfman will come out of the shadows.
The Space Shuttle
Today is the final mission of NASA’s Space Shuttle program and there is no replacement. There are plans for future missions, space vehicles and the like, but I’m not feeling confident. We can’t get our debt in order or have a serious energy policy or start creating new jobs (the ending of the Shuttle program is costing even more job loss – both in government and the private sector), and on and on. I don’t live in a fantasy world. There have always been and will always be problems/challenges to solve. But when you are the leader in the world in space technology and exploration why would you want to acquiesce that role? For, at least, the next 5 years the Russians will be taking our astronauts to the space station. Wow. Will we have another “Sputnik Moment” when the Chinese threaten to push us into 2nd place in space exploration? I hope so. Our elected leaders, both liberals and conservatives, preach that we are “The Greatest Nation in the World”. Being “Great” means to achieve and we’re not achieving much except agreeing to take a back seat to the future.
On Being An American on the 4th of July
Tony Blair, former Prime Minister of Britain, said it best in his memoir:
“A friend of mine whose parents were immigrants, Jews from Europe who came to America in search of safety, told me this story. His parents lived and worked in New York. They were not well off. His father died when he was young. His mother lived on, and in time my friend succeeded and became wealthy. He often used to offer his mother the chance to travel outside America. She never did. When eventually she died, they went back to recover the safety box where she kept her jewelry. They found there was another box. There was no key. So they had to drill it open. They wondered what precious jewel must be in it. They lifted the lid. There was wrapping and more wrapping and finally an envelope. Intrigued, they opened it. In the envelope were her U.S. citizenship papers. Nothing more. That was the jewel, more precious to her than any other possession. That was what she treasured most.”
Happy 4th of July.
Time for Breakfast!
Now, don’t you just want some pancakes with a side order of bacon and eggs?! I know I do. And, please, don’t forget the coffee.
London Parliament at Night
It’s been awhile since I’ve been to London. I think it’s time to go back.
Portrait of an Anarchist
On one of the pro photo forums, there’s a discussion about portrait photography. Folks are talking about the merits of hiring a real photographer for a portrait vs. what Walmart or Sears would provide. My suggestion – if you have an anarchist on your hands, don’t bother with Walmart. (The photo was taken with polaroid film using a 4×5 Wisner camera.)
My Hometown
A street scene from Paterson, NJ around 1970. Woolworth’s was a favorite spot of mine. My best friend and I would walk through the toy department, have a cherry sundae at the counter and rummage through the vinyl records. I was a fan of Chuck Berry, found one of his records in the bin, and asked my friend, a musician, “Who’s the black guy?” Well, he didn’t stop laughing. Some fan I was. I didn’t even know what Chuck Berry looked like.
Blood and Guts
For many years, part of my work included being a medical photographer. That meant shooting in the O.R., E.R. or patient rooms. Blood and guts. Â And I am a guy who’s very squeamish. I hate the sight of blood. Many years ago I was riding a bike with a friend. He fell down and broke his foot. There was no blood, nothing penetrated the skin, but I couldn’t even look at that. (Coincidentally it was across the street from a hospital which made it very convenient for my friend.) Fast forward many years, and I find myself as a staff photographer in a hospital where my responsibilities included patients in the operating room. I still remember my first “call down” to the O.R. I stood in the corner, camera in hand, starring at the wall. I was very nervous, thinking, “how do I get outta here!” Then those fateful words were spoken, “Rich, take a photo of this please.” I turned, walked slowly to the patient, took a deep breath and did my job. (I don’t remember what the actual surgery was.) As the years passed, I saw many surgeries, patients in rooms, accidents in the E.R. – open heart, other surgeries in the chest, legs, hands, brain, people who were injured from explosions, etc. I adapted to my situation and learned the difference between “controlled blood” and “uncontrolled” (my personal definitions). “Uncontrolled” would be a war zone or some type of violence or accident. I was never in a war but I had photographed two patients who were the victims of an explosion. One was deliberate – a bomb – and the other was an oxygen tank that exploded. I had “weak knees” with those patients. Another serious accident involved the male genitals. Being a guy and how I might respond to this situation, I had a smart solution – I put the camera to my eye BEFORE I looked at the injury. This took me out of the situation and I got the job done.
With “controlled blood”, I am referring to procedures in the operating room where the bodies are covered up except for the surgical area. This made the situation abstract for me, making it easier to see the blood.
Sometimes the unexpected happens. While I’ve never had open heart surgery, seeing it has actually improved my diet. I DON”T EVER want to have that done to me. Take my word for it.
Well, I rarely photograph in the O.R. anymore, the last time I did, the surgeon in charge, a friend of mine, commented, “Rich, you look like you’re having a good time.” I actually was.
I Wasn’t Invited To The Royal Wedding!
So I arrive at Heathrow airport early this morning and head to Buckingham Palace for the Royal Wedding. My first question is, “Can I be early?” I don’t see anyone! I assumed that someone had to be interested in this event but I wasn’t complaining. I was at the front of the line and had the best seat in the house.
So I’m waiting and waiting and waiting and finally a friendly elderly British gentleman asks me what I’m waiting for. (It must’ve been real obvious.) I answered, ‘The Royal Wedding, of course!” He says, “My fine fellow, that was yesterday! Didn’t you know?” I’m stunned at this point and pull out my invitation to see how I could get it so wrong. But no, there it was in black and white – the date said April 30th. My British friend looked at it and commented, “That certainly looks real. I guess Prince William didn’t want you to come.” and then he walked away.
I stood there flabbergasted. I was deliberately given the wrong date by the Royals. Now I’m mad.
iPhone Conundrum
I’m sure everyone has heard about the Apple iPhone secret info grab. What I’m sure many TV viewers didn’t notice were the conflicting stories reported about it on the news. One 24 hour news organization would say that the data was being collected and sent back to Apple. Another news company said that the info simply remained with your phone. There was nothing to worry about. So, which is it? If it’s the former, no one should really be surprised. All of our movements are constantly being watched. How do you think Amazon can make recommendations to you? Now if it’s the later – that the info just sits on your phone – that makes no sense especially if the user doesn’t know it’s there.
One point to remember when it comes to your computer hard drives, cell phones or other gadgets — to erase the private info stored on it when you discard the item. Most folks don’t and that’s not good.
*iPhone not pictured above.
In Remembrance of the Civil War
The Battle of Gettysburg was a turning point in the Civil War, the Union victory that ended General Robert E. Lee’s second and most ambitious invasion of the North in 1863. Often referred to as the “High Water Mark of the Rebellion”, it was the war’s bloodiest battle with 51,000 casualties and the setting for President Abraham Lincoln’s “Gettysburg Address”. (info from the National Park Service website)
Father & Son
In a time long forgotten, that’s a polaroid photo of me on the left. (Yes, it’s a polaroid.) I’m wearing my Civil War jacket, pants, hat and holding a toy rifle. For reasons unknown, my Mom never discarded the jacket part of the outfit. And for more reasons unknown, neither did I. So when my son was born I thought, “Someday when he’s around 8 or 9 years old (my approximate age in the photo), I’m going to have him wear my Civil War jacket and take a picture.” Father & son. Side by side.
Rich Green Photography 