Scenics Archives

October 18, 2012October 18, 2012

Working 300 Seconds a Year

I was trying to explain newspaper photography to a group in Altenburg Tuesday night. I shared with them some stats I had uncovered while working on my operating budget in the mid-80s. I was trying to figure out how much to budget for film, paper, chemicals and travel for each photographer each month and annually. For reasons you’ll see below, I didn’t share ALL of my findings with management.

The average photographer shot about five rolls of film a day; each roll contained about 30 frames; there were five work days in a week, and we gave everybody two weeks a year for vacation.

37,500 pictures a year

So, if you multiply those numbers: 5 x 30 x 5 x 50, you get 37,500 pictures a year.

1969 Nikon F body

This is the top of my 1969 Nikon F camera body. I called it my “crash camera” because it was on my lap for every airplane takeoff and landing, “just in case.” It was the non-automatic workhorse that I used so much the black coating has been worn down to the brass. I fell off a truck covering a flood once and both of us went underwater. The F body survived better than I did: IT wasn’t embarrassed and it still worked perfectly when it dried out.

The round dial with numbers running from 1 to 1000 is the shutter speed dial. The numbers represent fractions of a second from 1/1 second to 1/1000 of a second. Each number is either half or twice the number on either side of it. Let’s say that the average exposure is 1/125 of a second.

Math Question

So, what do you get if you divide 37,500 pictures by 1/125 of a second?

Math Answer

You discover that the average photographer on my staff worked about 300 seconds a year. At 1985 pay scales, that comes to about $69.33 per second. That’s a great gig if you can get it. See why this wasn’t a number I passed on to management? They already thought we were overpaid.

7,199,700 seconds a year

Now, if you ask lab tech Bob Wiley, who is doing a portable color film run in the back of an airplane about a mile up in the air, he’d say that left 7,199,700 seconds a year for the photographers to whine to the lab techs about how hard they were working.

Fred Lynch says he works longer

Missourian photographer Fred Lynch flattered me by coming up for my preview presentation. He said in a comment to yesterday’s story that “That was before you retired. We work much longer these days with digital cameras.”

I’ll concede that by the mid-90s, when we were shooting many more of our assignments in color, photographers probably doubled their film consumption. We used color slide film because it gave better reproduction than print film. Our engravers would argue that the whites in a color print could be only as bright as the paper it was printed on, but the whites in a slide were as bright as the light source. The catch is that your exposure was much more critical with slide film, so the shooters bracketed their exposures to make sure they hit it right on target. That took more film. In addition, they generally backed up the color with black and white.

How much film you shot was as much a matter of how much film you could process as anything else. If we sent four photographers to cover an event involving a portable color run, we would tell them they were limited to eight to 12 rolls total for the four. They could shoot as much as they wanted to, but the tank would only hold so many rolls. They had to decide individually and collectively which rolls adding up to tank capacity would be processed.

Shooting my shoes

Because the film would arrive back at the office long before the photographers would, we used some tricks to give the photo editor a clue who shot the roll and when. At a football game, for example, I would take a picture of my shoes and a picture of the scoreboard at the front of every roll. We also used “twin tags,” two waterproof sticky numbered labels; one would go on the end of the film, the other on the film envelope that held the rolls.

In the digital world, that’s not an issue. Since there is no processing involved on the front end, it becomes a matter of how many images do you have time to look through to find the best one? If you’re on deadline, you don’t have the luxury of being able to eyeball thousands of images.

With all due respect to Fred, I’ll agree that photographers today shoot way more than 37,500 images a year. I’ll also say that the ability to essentially record a ‘movie’ of an event by holding down the shutter button makes for sloppier shooting. I know that I shot differently when I was sent to a football game with four sheets of 4×5 film and five flashbulbs than when I could shoot four 36-exposure rolls of 35-mm film. When I documented the CHS vs. Sikeston football game in the fall of 2010, I banged off 313 pictures with my digital Nikon D40 camera.

Calendars and books

I have two calendars and two photo books available for sale at the Lutheran Heritage Center and Museum. They are $20 each. If you order more than one, the price for each additional copy drops to $15. Shipping and handling will run about $5 for a single copy (or as many as will fit in the mailer for that rate).

The 2013 Ordinary People calendar features photos taken in Missouri, Ohio and Florida, plus a shot of Queen Elizabeth II in the Bahamas. These are some of my favorite pictures.

Tower Rock

There are a limited number of my Tower Rock: “A Demon that Devours Travelers” photo book left. If you were lucky enough to be able to climb The Rock when the river was low, this is a great souvenir.

Ordinary People

Ordinary People Doing Ordinary Things is a catalog of some of the pictures and layouts in my photo exhibit. It makes a great pairing with the Ordinary People calendar because it gives the stories behind the photos.

Trinity Lutheran Church

The 2013 Trinity Lutheran Church calendar would be a great gift if you know someone with an interest in the 1867 Altenburg church.

How to order the publications

If you are in the area, I encourage you to drop in the museum. It’s free, interesting and has the friendliest staff and cleanest bathrooms you’ll every find. You can also order the publications by mail. They are $20 each. If you order more than one, the price for each additional copy drops to $15. Shipping and handling will run about $5 for a single copy (or as many as will fit in the mailer for that rate) if you can’t make it there in person.

Lutheran Heritage Center & Museum
P.O. Box 53
75 Church Street
Altenburg, Missouri 63732

Open Daily seven days a week: 10:00am – 4:00pm

Telephone: 573-824-6070

Email: info@altenburgmuseum.org

October 15, 2012

It’s Looking Like Fall

When you live in Florida, you forget what changing seasons look like. In fact, you divide the world into two classifications: hot and hotter. Today’s ride from Cullman, Alabama to Cape Girardeau reminded me of how pretty this time of year can be. I ran across the first really striking trees around Huntsville.

By the time I got north of Nashville, the colors were starting to get pretty enough that I decided to risk death by shooting some windshield pictures. Now, before you take me to task for not concentrating on my driving, these aren’t carefully composed photos where I hold the viewfinder up to my eye and wait for just the right composition. I stick the camera up in front of me and hold the button down, glancing at the LCD screen on the back every few frames to see if I’m pointing anywhere close to the right direction. It’s gangbanger-style photos where you spray and pray.

Still a lot of green left

My eye was drawn to the farm coming up on the right, the clouds and the patches of sunlight on the road. I clicked off eight frames. The first one was the best. That’s frequently the case. I might shoot multiple frames of a subject to bracket the exposure or to make sure the picture is sharp, but it’s almost the first shot that has the best composition. That helped form my philosophy of “shoot it when you see it.” The longer you fool around, the better the chance that the magic is going to leak out.

Clouds look menacing

By the time I got off I-24 at the Cadiz exit, the clouds were beginning to take on an Armageddon appearance. Despite their menacing look, I covered about 350 miles Sunday with just a handful of sprinkles.

90-degree approach

I published a photo of the Ohio River bridge at Cairo from the eastbound side last trip. I hit the infamous 90-degree approach to the bridge from the westbound side this time at about dark-thirty.

Tuesday Preview Show

Here’s the last plug for my preview show at the Altenburg Museum on Tuesday night at 6:30. I have to cut my presentation down for the formal show later in the month, so I’m looking for folks to tell me what works and what can be jettisoned. I’ll be talking about stories I’ve covered interesting folks I’ve met and what it’s like to have a job where you work a mere 300 seconds a year.

Last leg photo gallery

Here are a few more windshield grab shots from the last leg of my ride to Cape. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the image to move through the gallery.

October 14, 2012

Two Egg and Pssssssssss-BANG!

About 25 years ago, I did a story about Grand Ridge, a small school system in Florida’s Panhandle that was trying a new reading program. I met the Hollister family and grew to really like them. Charles and Annie had two children – Hobie, who was Son Matt’s age, and Heather, who was a year or two older. I made it a point to stop in on them when we passed through on vacation or when I had an assignment in the area.

But, that’s not the reason for this post.

Two Egg general store

Eleven miles up Hwy 69 from Grand Ridge is Two Egg. You can’t get that close to a place with a name like Two Egg without stopping in. A quarter of a century ago, there was a small general store that sold me a couple of souvenir T-shirts to take back to the kids.

I thought it would be fun to pick up a couple of shirts for Grandsons Malcolm and Graham this trip. A few houses and the city limit signs are about all that’s left of Two Egg. There was no sign of the general store.

Holiday Ranch Motel

I was going to take a picture of one of the three worst motels I had ever stayed in, but it, too, was gone. I’ve stayed in some real dives over the years, but that didn’t bother me much because I usually didn’t spend much time in the rooms.

When I pulled into Grand Ridge for my assignment, I was pleased to see the Holiday Ranch Motel about five minutes from the school where I’d be working. It was the old-fashioned tourist court kind of place and one that had seen much better days. The manager took me to one of the stand-alone rooms and warned me that the door had a tendency to stick. “You have to play with it, but it’ll open.

The weather had turned cold, so I was happy to see that the room had a gas heater against one wall.

Psssssssssssss

After I had snuggled up under the covers, I heard a Psssssssssssssssss sound. That was the gas heater filling the room with natural gas. Just about the time I was wondering if I was going to be gassed to death, there was a loud BANG!!!! as the gas ignited, sending a huge gout of fire out into the room.

Maybe I should check to see just how hard it WAS to get out of that room. “Stick” was an understatement. Visions of bad thriller movies and Alfred Hitchcock kept filling my mind.

All night long, “Psssssssssssss BANG! Flame!” “Psssssssssssss BANG! Flame!” “Psssssssssssss BANG! Flame!”

Several options were possible

The Pssssssssssssss could continue until the room filled with gas and extinguished all life in the room except for the cockroaches.
The Pssssssssssssss could fill the room with gas and the whole-shebang could go up in a flash of light and thunder.
Some combination of the above.

The next morning I checked out and moved to a motel that wasn’t quite as close, but was out of the blast zone of the Holiday Ranch Motel. (I’m pretty sure that was the name of it. The first name was definitely “Holiday,” but I’m positive the second word wasn’t “Inn.”)

Travel update

I’m staying in the same Comfort Suites in Cullman, Ala.,that Mother and I took refuge in on our last road trip. Joy Pannell, the same woman who told us where to go in case of a tornado that night, was working the desk tonight. Nice room, reasonable price, friendly service. I’ll make it a point to stay here whenever I pass through.

October 9, 2012

Matt’s Seattle Trip

I was going to run this photo of Son Matt dressed up as Superman for Halloween in 1979 along with a link to a Halloween story I did last year. While looking for something else, though, I ran across some writing my kids did. Matt wrote a thank-you note to his Grandmother for a metal detector. Son Adam sent her a note thanking her for all things he and his buddy Buzzy did on a summer vacation in Cape and Kentucky Lake.

The coolest thing was a story Matt wrote about his trip to Seattle. He got bumped on a flight, which earned him a voucher good to fly anywhere in the continental U.S. He put off using it until the last minute, then decided he wanted to get as far from West Palm Beach as he could. Seattle, Washington, filled the bill. He REALLY wanted to drive to the top of Mt. St. Helen’s Mountain, but he had a problem: he was way under 21, so none of the big car rental companies would talk to him. I suggested trying to rent a U-Haul truck. Here’s his account of his driving adventures.

“If you hear a whirring sound…”

I was able to get a car so the U-Haul plans were for naught. In place of the truck, I was able to rent a car just a bit larger – a white 1983 Mercury Zephyr. The thing had over a hundred thousand miles.

The guy who rented it to me (he owned and operated “AAAAAA 19.95 Rent-A-Car” told me that the thing ran great. Of all the cars on the lot, it was his personal favorite and I shouldn’t have any problems, but “if you ever hear a whirring sound while on the highway, stop immediately – right away – and …Can you pop the hood there, son? Yeah, come around the front… can you see that thing down there? Yeah, just give it a few raps with the tire iron – don’t worry, you can’t ever hit it too hard – and the car will be fine. It doesn’t happen often, but I thought you should know. Just be sure and stop as soon as you hear it.”

I didn’t ask.

Saw all the Seattle sights

With that hurdle cleared, I toured Seattle and the surrounding area. Beautiful is the only way I can describe it. Of course, I did all the tourist stuff — the space needle, the Seattle Zoo, Pike’s Market, Mt. Rainier, etc., but the best part was just driving around on the back roads, looking for cool stuff to see.

My longest trek was up Mt. Rainier. I had gotten up at the crack of dawn and the hill was a three-hour drive. I did it in just under 8-1/2. As Davy Crockett might have said, “I was never lost, but I was once bewildered for a few hours.”

Snow tires required

I was the last car up the road before the park rangers closed it down for the evening. It had just stopped lightly snowing. A quarter of the way up, I passed a sign that said, “Snow tires required beyond this point.” Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had snow tires on it. Halfway up the hill, the sign said, “Four-wheel drive vehicles strongly recommended for further travel.‘ Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had four-wheel drive.

Not much further up the road, I passed a sign that said “Chains required past this point.” The few locals with me were pulling over and installing chains. Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had chains on it.

Well, as someone who has never driven in snow or ice before, the rest of my quest was an uphill battle. I was sliding all over the place. Fortunately, by this time, I was just about the only person on the narrow, two-lane road that led up the mountain. I survived and made it to the top and am glad no one saw me slide into the two or three snow banks that jumped out in front of my 1983 Mercury Zephyr.

The Rambo of rangers

At the top, I headed to the observation deck. I climbed three flights of stairs before I ran into the Rambo of rangers who said that the observation deck was closed.

“What?!? Sir, I’ve just driven all day, after flying in from West Palm Beach, Florida, to see this wonderful Washington mountain. I’m alone in a state over 4,000 miles from home. This is nature at its best and I’ve come too far to miss it,” I said with Tammy Faye-sized tears running down my face (and then freezing on my cheeks).

Nobody around for 25 miles

“If made an exception for you, I’d have to let everyone up.”

I took a careful look around, surveying what I could through the fogged-up window and the approaching sunset. “What do you mean everyone? There is, quite literally, not a single other living human within 25 miles.”

With an evil, this-man-has-probably-been-trained-in-the-use-of-chainsaws-look, he said, simply, “I know.”

I made it down the mountain in record time.

Matt’s first report card

His teacher at Miss Lora’s Day School had him pegged early. Here are some comments on his first report card: “We have enjoyed talking with Matt. He always has something special to say…Storytime is a favorite. Matt has been a good listener. He has learned to put the most interesting endings on stories.”