Aha! Says somebody reading this 53rd rate blog, he doesn't sound all that cheerful. Well, guess what? I ain't very cheerful. I'm NOT people photographer. I enjoy the living crap of taking photos of race cars, any type, same for motorcycles and old trains, ell, even old rusting machinery. Landscapes are also high on my list of fun to shoot photos. People, not so much. I do NOT ever do portraits. Why? Because a good portrait photographer MUST be a boss. The same applies, even more so, for a good wedding photographer. Notice I said "good" for those two types of photographers. There are way too many who "do" portraits and even weddings, but oh, yeah, they "do" them. Just not very good.
I am not a boss. Shit on a damn stick, the Marines wanted to promote me to Sergeant about 70 days before my enlistment was over. I told the promotion board when they asked me the first question, which was why did I want to be promoted, that I did NOT want a promotion. I had to exit that room, wait in the lobby of the building for 45 minutes while they tried to decide what todo. The decided to just ask me the rest of the questions any who. Why? Because the highest ranked person on that board was only a 1st Lieutenant. Nobody, it seemed, had any authority to do much else. They did tell me they'd never had anybody refuse a promotion before. Hey, somebody HAD to be the first.
his story is too bloody long and its not quite done. In the end, the regimental colonel promoted me any way. It came down to this; I was standing at attention in front of his desk. He points to his collar and asks what is on it? I say, An eagle sir. He says, what is on y sleeve? I say corporal stripes sir. he says, so, now you ARE a goddamn sergeant and get the hell out of my office! Sir! Yes sir! and out I go.
So, I ain't no bloody goddamn boss. That makes me a crap portrait or wedding photographer. BUT, since the first time in this idiot state of Louisiana (I often call it Loosie Annie) that I got suckered into shooting photos for a family reunion, they all just loved them some shit over the shots I took. The only reason I can make sense of this is, I don't do "set" shots of people. Nope, I catch them as is, or acting naturally. No warning, yes siriee Bobbie, Have camera, will shoot photos. Have camera will travel. You ever see me with my camera, you may have just had your photo taken. Damn right, I ARE sneaky that way. Catch them off guard.
OK, I do this for certain folks. Well, they end up asking me to do more for other friends of theirs etc., etc., etc.......and on, and on....
Yeah. Every time, they tell me how much they like the shots I get and say how they are al on farcebook. I sometimes have to ask somebody I know who has an account with that farcebook thing since I refuse to deal with them. I've seen some of my shots posted there, so, the folks who say they like my work ain't lying. The ting is, I might be half assed good at this, but I don't get that much fun doing it. I think it feels like I'm hunting the prey and damn, a hunter cannot be pals with the prey. What? You'd kill a pal? Holy shit, I am not looking for any new pals, so, pass. In my Marine days, I'd have given my own life to save a buddy, but kill one of them? Fuck NO!! No way Jose!
Ah, the better semi olden days. The days when I went to the drags once, sometimes twice, a month. Could breath a hell of a lot better back then. Now THAT was a blast on steroids! Open exhaust pipes/headers, burnt rubber, the smells, sounds, and oh YEAH, the sights! Plus, the people racing and/or working on the cars are some of the friendliest folks you'll ever meet. Made me feel welcome from the very first time at what passes for my local track. That includes the track staff.
Turn me loose in an old train museum or yard and I'm set for the day and then some.Got a field of rusting old machinery? Tell me how to get there!
So, how come I keep doing this for the folks who ask? Because they asked me to. And hell, if I can't be nice back to them, then I'd be a damn hypocrite. What do I say/ask almost every post? Try and treat all those you meet each day the way you want to be treated. If I am going to talk the talk, I better goddamn WALK the walk! And that is why I keep doing as I did yesterday and will until I am physically unable to any longer. Like about 15 minutes after my carcass has been turned into ashes.
Now that cat has his act together!
Why were they do desperate to promote you a month before you left the service? Did they get bonus points per promotion or something?
ReplyDeleteBill, Earlier that spring the regiment went to the island of Vieques, part of Puerto Rico for trying. I was not supposed to go on that trip. Also, I'd been taking a class at the local community college two nights a week. The guy who should have gone had gone UA, that is the same as AWOL, but the Marines 'had' to call it differently. They made the mistake of paying all of them the day before they were to load the Navy ships to take them there.
ReplyDeleteThis idiot, got paid, went to town and got drunk. Buys a bus ticket to Baltimore, I believe to see his ex-wife. They get to the loading area at the Navy base and the damn fool Navy cannot get the loading doors open. It was an LST so the bow doors are supposed to open and you drive on. So, they come back to camp swampy for the night and NOW they find out this moron is gone.
Of course they come and grab me, since I was the best generator operator they had. Not bragging, just stating facts. I was supposed to be a radio relay repairman, but even in Vietnam, nobody could keep the generators going as well as I did. Must be thanks to all those times I'd worked with Dad on the old P&H diesel engines and other mechanical work with Dad and my grandparents.
I just took my basic needed items and only work uniforms. They said we'd be stopping in some port in Florida on the way home. Big deal, I never wanted to go to Florida.
When we got back from the trip, the regimental Sergeant Major had me see the colonel and he told me I'd done a superb job the entire time. Said I'd be rewarded. Well, everybody in my unit got 96 hour passes. I asked for one, nice weather, my old Honda 450 was running great. Time for a four day road trip. Nope. I could not beg, borrow, nor steal a 4 day pass. My 'reward' was that idiot promotion.
Yes, long, or longish story that ends like crap any way. Oh, I was told the promotion would "look good" on a job application. LOLMAO.