Any of you reading this that went to school with me can blame this on Cora F. . . It was one of her comments to a Facebook post of mine that caused the whole thing. There are some images at the end to make the reading worth while. Don’t cheat and just go to the end. If you do your computer will freeze up.
I would like to think George Carlin would say I’m the kind of guy that tells it like it is. I seem to remember getting called to the office in school and being told I was sarcastic. I think that is the proper name for what Dad called me and that was wise ass. After I got out of school and got married the first time, I acquired the nick name “Grumpy”. That one has stuck for the last 40 years. I’m still not sure what being Grumpy has to do with being a wise ass but her thinking was a bit flawed at times anyway.
All photographers get asked some very stupid questions at times. I have found that the larger the camera and lens I have with me the more stupid the questions can be. I have not found the reason for this. It just is the way it works.
We will now move on to a couple of questions that could make anyone a Grumpy, sarcastic wise ass.
Rewind a few years ago to one of those winter nights that we were supposed to have one of those huge full moons at an hour that one may want to go photograph it. The problem with attempting a challenge like this in Oregon is what I call the “Clouds of doom”. It never fails that the same time the moon comes up the clouds move in. It’s just one of those things and you have to go try to get the shot anyway. It works the same way with sunrises. It can be stars all night long and solid low clouds at sunrise.
I loaded the camera, tripod, release cable, some coffee and my favorite company into the car and we headed up to Kelly Butte here in Springfield. It gives you a nice view to the East as long as you don’t care about the light pollution from town.
After getting the gear set up I went back to sit in the car and drink some coffee and talk to my current wife who believes nick names should not change and also calls me Grumpy. There had been a few cars pull through the parking lot but none had stopped. We were warm and watching the clouds drift by. This was working well; I could stay warm and not have to worry about some meth head trying to run off with my gear. I knew that was too good to last and about fifteen minutes before moonrise two more cars pulled into the lot so I got out of the car to walk over and keep an eye on the gear and a hand on the pepper spray in my jacket pocket. The people got out of the cars and chatted a bit. They seemed pretty civil so I eased up on the “trigger finger”. The next thing to happen was just one of those that you knew was coming. By this time my wife is out of the car and with me and the people from the other cars had wandered over to us and the camera. Then came the question I knew I just knew had to happen.
“Are you waiting for the moon to come up?”
I was loaded and ready.
“Nope, the clouds are going to get too thick. I’m just going to wait for the sunrise.”
They never said a word. They got in their cars and left. The clouds moved in and we went home and watched TV.
As Bill would say, “Here’s your sign.”
OK let’s change locations. It is a great, sunny Sunday afternoon at the ballpark in Eugene, Oregon. This was at the late and great Civic Stadium. It was the home of the AAA Short Season Eugene Emerald’s. While not known for winning records they are always fun to watch play.
There is an amazing thing that happens on hot days at ballparks. People forget how stupid it is to pay $5 or $6 for a plastic cup of beer. The hotter it gets the more they drink and I’m sure somewhere there is a formula for figuring the percentage of drunks to sober fans depending on the inning and the temperature. If not, with our booming economy, I’m sure you can get a grant for that.
Jump forward to about the 7th inning. The seating chart has my wife on my left and one very inebriated 40 or 50 something year old woman to my right and a very coherent person to the left of my wife. I do not remember the gender and it doesn’t make any difference anyway. Insert note here… wife and I do not drink so drunks can be very disgusting to us.
Now my wife will talk to just about anyone about anything. Some how the discussion turned to photography and then to photography and hummingbirds. Using slang, at times can sometimes, makes it difficult for a person not in the know, or not in the conversation, very confused as to what is actually going on and that was what happened here. The drunk on my right picked up just enough of the conversation to catch the words hummingbirds and shooting.
Out of nowhere I have an elbow in my ribs and some drunken woman chewing me out for shooting hummingbirds. The next thing I know she is looking at me and saying “What do you shoot hummingbirds with anyway?”
I couldn’t pass it up. I looked her right in the eye and said “A very small Canon.” and went back to watching the ball game trying to keep a straight face and not laugh. In 3.2 seconds the woman had forgotten all about it and was trying to flag down the beer vendor. I hope she wasn’t driving.
For putting up with this, here are a few very small birds that were shot with a Canon.
And that is the way it was…