It’s Saturday night, and I’m alone and working on a story for Motorcycle.com, avoiding a few others due and some video editing. I wasn’t feeling sad or sorry for myself until I dipped out to capture a photo of the So. Cal Scooter Club on their annual evening troll of the Venice Canals… right down the road from my apt. Problem was that I didn’t know which canal they’re traversing because I wasn’t starting with the group at the bar. I just wanted snipe the shot like I do with much of what I photograph.
Why I bother to pile ten grand in photo gear on my back to snap a photo of people I don’t know – for no intended story – is what gets me wondering about why I do what I do – following fun instead of having fun. It’s the photo-journalist in me I know. But I spend even my “time off” reporting on the fun that is out there, not consuming it like the other couples walking down the street. Instead, me and my date – a Yamaha XT250 – put put around the neighborhood hoping to intersect a group or scooteristas in the darkened canals. Along the way I get both rear-ended by a cute girl in a VW Passat wagon and nearly sideswiped by an Audi in the same intersection passing through a second time on my way back home. Maybe loud pipes DO save lives. They won’t find me a wife, but I might live longer lurking behind the camera looking for one.
I didn’t get a shot, wife or answer to the developing question about why I’m like this. Back to the keyboard. Luckily I have the Olympic gold medal basketball game to entertain me tonight. Ya’ll know what a Bball fan I am!