Boonsboro

Ok, so I know that this is supposed to be about my weddings but, I do take so many other types of pictures that don't go as beautifully as they should so, I figured I would also use this forum to share about my other photographic experiences that aren't quite so loverly.

I landed a contract with a company out of central Virginia that does fund raising for volunteer fire departments in the DC Metro Area. Actually, now that I typed that, I realized that they extended further outside of the area because I've gone down to Kent Island before. So, it works like this. This company sends out folks to ask the community for money and as consolation prize, you get a free family portrait in the fire department. Conceptually, great. You give something and get something back in addition to fire and EMS protection. The thing is, sometimes the folks that show up aren't really Sears Portrait Studio or Olan Mills candidates.

How appropriate first of all that I was shooting portraits in a place called Boonsboro. Should have been more like "Boonies-boro." It wasn't an overwhelmingly busy day but, I showed up to find no one manning the station. Typically, I go to a station and they are expecting me. They've got an area for me to set up my equipment and such and I transform a fire station into a portrait studio. I get pretty decent captures considered to the right and left of me is usually a fire truck, wood paneling, or a bingo machine.

This station was quite a bit different. There was no one around. I waited around for a half an hour for someone to show up and when the guy did show, he directed me to the second level of the station into a room that was setup for a meeting. I had to move all of the folding tables and chairs first. Then carry all of my equipment topside. Set up and then wait. There was no air condition so I was nearly melting as I sat there. I was quite a bit less that excited needless to say. I had some normal families post for photographs...really nice people...good old rural America at its best. The people were interesting--like the family that had TEN children ranging from ages 2 to 26. When do you stop!? My goodness that's so many kids. Nice looking family though. But the part that fits into this blog were the two teenaged females that showed up near the end. A 17 year old and a 16 year old that just giggled uncontrollably. And continued to text message through the photo session. They didn't like any of the pictures of themselves but were there because their grandparents forced them to come. I always love photographing people under duress (wish sarcasm could come through in typing). Their "cuteness" in giggling in being youthful ended up getting old and annoying after about three minutes. Then again, I guess it was better than people who bring their bad ass uncontrollable animals in for photographs. I love my dog but don't expect her to sit still for pictures.

Redneck Wedding

I shot a wedding and the bride was alright.

Yesterday, I shot a self proclaimed redneck wedding. It was a nice family out in Walkersville. I'll tell you, when I got there, no one would speak to me. I was concerned it was going to be one of those kinds of gigs where being a "brother" wasn't going to fly very well. Everyone was maintaining their distance from me. It was quite disconcerting. Then, of course there's the dumbest question in the world posed to me.... "Are you the photographer?"

"No, stupid. I stole this bag of camera shit. Would you like to buy it cheap?"

So, the lay of the land was like this...nice venue. Grassy meadow leading to a pergola on the edge of a lake. The lake has a grassy island in the center. Water is close to still. The weather is hot as hell. It's muggy. Sky is amazingly overcast. It had sprinkled a bit on the way to the job. There are white chairs lining the lawn with pink bows wrapped around them. Under a translucent canopy are white tables for the reception. The canopy was great because it was such a great light diffuser...a big ass softbox if you will. There was a little hooch that was stocked with alcohol that the couple had provided...uh oh. The DJ's got music playing and after I demonstrated that i knew a couple of the country tunes that were playing there, I became acceptable to the good ol' boys. They were offering me beers and everything!

When the ceremony starts everything sounds incredibly classy. Violin music starts...look around and there are some folks that are dressed quite nice but there are also plenty of folks that looked like they just got back from WalMart. The ushers come down in black tuxes and drop off the bride and groom's folks. They head back up to the top and we're set to get this show on the road. The fellas head down to the altar. It's cool...they looked like the Clampetts but cleaned up nicely. Skinny tall groom, best man looked like belonged on a Orange County Chopper, and the other two fellas weren't much better. But that's fine...after all they're boys. But in the fashion of any PBR Rodeo event...here comes the first bridesmaid. She comes buckin' out of the shoot. Any cowboy would be hard pressed to say on her for eight seconds! Big girl...in a pink short dress. There was skin everywhere...and she had managed to squeeze her hooves into a pair of silver heels. Second comes out of the gate. I stopped photographing for a moment to look around for Michael Buffer. "And in this corner weighing in a 325 lbs...your numberrrr two brrriiiiides maid." The maid of honor is really nothing to report--just that she was old as hell but no worries. And now...the song...and appears the bride. Oh how beautiful. She put me in the mind of Megan Fox...only with brown eyes. There she is...up the walkway and coming down to get her man! Beautiful white dress (a stretch from what I heard at the reception), long curly brown hair, beautiful flower bouquet. I'm optimistic. These'll be beautiful shots. "Oh my, doesn't she look like a princess?" I heard next to me. I also heard immediately after "I shoulda brought my beer down here." Ok I'm thinking, everything is moving along and...and...wait. Hey, flower girl...step on it! She had stalled. Finally they get her jump started and she's flinging flowers like a weed whacker on high octane. I took a flower petal to the thigh. The bride is now close and she smiles. I lower the camera...I think, "Hmm...does she chew on gravel?" This poor chick had that Gravel Crunchies smile. Well now that I've typed that...that's not very fair. I take that back. that would imply that her teeth were broken and such and that was not the case. It was more like looking in to Steve Buscemi's mouth. I was like she need to teach her teeth some manners so that would stand together instead of all trying to be first in line.

Reception was cool. Somehow the floodgates held out and there was no rain actually until we were pulling out to leave and call it a day. No one danced on the dance floor except the bride, Petunia Pig and Miss Piggy (Kermit was a no show). At one point a lady even came up and asked me "Bet this is the first time you seen a redneck weddin'." Nope...I've "sawn" several thank you kindly. I also find it hysterical when people insist that you, as the photographer, get a beer--or several. Obviously, these people drink on the job.

Everybody started changing clothes--the boys that is. The ring bearer--a seven year old with a pink mohawk. The groomsmen were all dressed like Larry the Cable Guy. There was plenty of chewing tobacco to go around--Skoal or Cophenhagen. The groom looked like a Chippendale after he removed his shirt and tie and just walked around in his vest shirtless the rest of the night with the bowtie around his neck. We photographed the bride and groom on a tree swing. That served as an invite for all of the other folks to take a turn. Sad to report, there were no incidents involving accidental contact with the ground. Then, when the time came for the dollar dance, one of the the guys decides that he's going to pay in quarters. No problem...excepting that it looked like he had just mulched his entire yard before coming and forgot to wash his hands. Gotta love it when country folks love one another.

American by Birth. Redneck by choice.