History

I witnessed history last night. Barack Obama became the first African American to become President of the United States. It was one of the most amazing events that I have ever had the privilege of seeing with my own eyes – or in my case, through a lens. By far, the best part of my job is all the historic things I have been able to see. I feel very lucky.

I was one of 7 Getty photographers covering the election night party in Chicago. My day started out before the sun came up as me and my co-worker Scott Olson went to the polling site where Obama would be voting. Upon returning to the hotel, me and the rest of the team gathered our equipment and walked over to the site. We did final tweaking on our remotes and did final tests. And then we waited. We were hoping that we wouldn’t have a repeat of 2004 when we waited until 4:00 am only to be told that the election was too close to call and the event was canceled.

The day could not have been more perfect. A balmy seventy degree day cooled off to a comfortable evening. No freezing cold wind or rain. Were we really in Chicago? An estimated 240,000 filled Grant Park and the surrounding streets.
My position was a floor position, which meant I was shooting from the middle of the crowd at Grant Park. The small number of photographers that were given floor passes had to move fast to stake out positions as the general public flooded in. Me and my pals Shannon Stapleton (Reuters) and David Guttenfelder (AP) staked out a few spots and let the crowd fill in around us. We all had turtle stools so we stood a little taller than the crowd. The people were incredibly cool with us being there. We had feared an angry backlash and were pleasantly surprised with how accommodating people were.
I teetered on small platform of that turtle stool from about 6:30 p.m. until Obama came on stage at 11:00 p.m. My legs and knees started to hurt after the fourth hour. The weight of my cameras was brutal on my back. I couldn’t move with the crowd so tight. We watched election results roll in on a live feed of CNN. The crowd alternated between boos when McCain would win a state and thunderous cheers when Obama would win. Even though my body was aching, I was energized. This was a very cool moment in time.
It was a surprise to everyone in the crowd when CNN projected that Obama had won the election. It was close at that point and nobody was expecting it to be called to soon. The emotion that followed that announcement was unlike anything I had ever seen. People Cheered. People cried. They hugged each other and laughed. There wasn’t a face in the crowd that didn’t have a smile on it. One woman who had traveled from Columbia to be at the event stood there with tears running down her face saying “that’s my president, that’s our president.” Yes we can was being chanted and was soon changed to “Yes we did.”
Obama took to the stage at exactly 11 p.m. Barack was introduced with the new First Family. He and Michelle walked out with their two daughters to greet the crowd. It was a surreal moment. There was no music, just cheering. I kept expecting music to start blaring over the loudspeakers. It never did. Shooting from our position proved challenging as we were blocked by the thousands of small American flags that were passed out just prior to the speech. We knew this would be a tough spot to shoot from, but it all worked out in the end. It was amazing how fast the crowd thinned out once the short speech was over. Some stayed behind and danced in groups and waved campaign posters. It was like a scene out of the sixties. It is a day I will never forget.

The Zeppelin

Whatever you do, don’t call it a blimp. It’s a zeppelin, and today I got to ride in one. Yes, a zeppelin, like the Hindenburg, but no crashing and burning on my journey.

The zeppelin belonging to the company Airship Ventures arrived in the Bay Area this week and will soon be offering one and two hour tourist flights. They are hoping that people will be lining up to pay $495 an hour to ride the big helium-filled airship. Cool idea, but have they been tuned into the financial news lately? It could be a real tough sell.


Today is media day and Airship Ventures is allowing members of the press to embark on a 20 minute flight around the airstrip at Moffett Field. After a brief safety meeting that was similar to what you get on a commercial flight, we were on our way to the tarmac.
The thing is massive, the biggest zeppelin in the world as a matter of fact. We were standing on the tarmac when it came in for a landing right over our heads. It’s really quiet, not like a helicopter. The cabin, I guess that’s what it is called, has huge panoramic windows and seats 15 passengers. When you board the thing it’s like getting onto a boat in rough seas. The wind pushes it around and you have to anticipate that or you might fall flat on your face. That usually happens to me, but not this time.
Once in my seat, I felt like I was in a fish tank. The windows are huge. You have really great unobstructed views. When we were all in our seats and belted in, we lifted off. Our two pilots, one who is the only female zeppelin pilot in the world and the other a German named Fritz, hit buttons and pulled levers as we quickly gained altitude. The plan was to do a few loops around the airfield and possibly a little further. This plan was thwarted when a local TV reporter wanted to do some stupid gimmicky in-flight live interview with the CEO that required us to be close to his live truck so he could transmit the signal. We ended up hovering for about 20 minutes just above our takeoff point. Thanks a lot. None of the other 13 people wanted to fly around. No, really. It’s all about you.
After the talking head got his interview out of the way we managed to get about 10 minutes of actual flying time. The thing is smooth and the views are incredible. I’m not sure that I would shell out the serious coin that they are asking for these flights, so I’m glad I got to ride along for free. I bet it would be really nice to fly over the city at night.

Getting Beat in Paradise

The somber looking Obama arrived at around 7:30 on Thursday night. He’s here in Hawaii to visit his ailing grandmother. Many think it will be the last time that he sees her since she is gravely ill. Since it is highly unlikely that the traveling press pool will see him during his visit, we all blast him with our flashes as he walks off of his plane in the dark. Nothing like a direct flash picture. Pretty.
The traveling press pool is comprised of three stills, me AP and Reuters. Our coverage is primarily protective coverage, you know, just in case something major happens. There are no scheduled public events during this trip, he’s only here to see his grandmother.

From the airport, the motorcade went directly to his grandmother’s house and Obama’s car went down into an underground parking garage, eluding the line of TV cameras out front awaiting his arrival. There were a couple dozen people standing across the street, some with signs, others pointing up at the top floors of the apartment building where Obama’s grandma lives. Unfortunately for all of them, they wouldn’t be seeing Obama tonight.
Have you ever had one of those days at work when things just don’t go the way you wished they had? Well, that was my Friday.

Friday started out early with a 6:30 am call time for the pool. The motorcade went back to the apartment complex where we would sit out front for most of the day. We were informed after about 3 hours into the day that Obama would be going for a walk around his old neighborhood and we (the pool) would be able to follow him for a block or so. This was good, an unexpected surprise since we all thought that we wouldn’t see him until he got on his plane later today to fly back to the mainland.

Me, Alex Brandon of AP and Hugh Gentry of Reuters along with a pool reporter and pool TV camera were escorted by our press agent and staff to the underground garage where we would rendezvous with Obama. While we were holding there, one of his aides said that he had already left and was down the street. We all moved out to the street and sure enough, he was about 3 blocks away.

The pursuit began. It first started out as a fast walk and then escalated to an all out run as Dean (our press agent) prompted us to pick up the pace. We’re all running down the street, cameras dangling – full paparazzi mode. People in cars are laughing at us. I feel as if I am on assignment for TMZ and Paris Hilton just walked into a Starbucks. It was a little embarrassing.

After about four blocks we finally catch up to Obama. We’re across the street from him as he casually strolled through the residential neighborhood. He seemed to be caught off guard as we all came storming down the street. He actually looked a little pissed. He stopped walking and looked around before saying something to the agent that was shadowing him.
This is where things started to go wrong for me. Obama continued to walk and then started to cross the street towards us. Then he stopped, turned around and went back to the sidewalk. He stood there for a minute and then started heading back towards the apartment building. Alex and Hugh were about 25 feet behind me. I was snapping frames of Obama as he walked away and then started to move over to where the others were but I couldn’t get there fast enough and missed a really good picture. Obama had crossed a footpath in part of the neighborhood that was very representative of where he grew up. I had seen this little path when we were running by it earlier. It was a real bummer to not get that shot. Everything about it worked. He was wearing jeans and flip flops, walking in full stride past palm trees and homes in a lower-middle class neighborhood. It was painful to see. Wrong place, wrong time. Sometimes there isn’t much you can do about your timing. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

There is nothing worse than missing a gem like that, especially when it was the only opportunity of the day to photograph him. I certainly did beat myself up over it. But, you know, that’s the nature of this profession. Sometimes you get the shot and others are envious and vice versa. That is unless you’re some sort of perfect photo god. It’s a healthy competition between photographers that I like but at the same time can be tough when you don’t perform to your personal standards.

Tomorrow will be another day with more opportunities to redeem myself. Hopefully I will have better timing and luck.

Hawaii 5-0

I have a really erratic work schedule. The first two days of this week started with an early morning assignment followed by another assignment in the early evening. In between my three assignments on Tuesday I found out that I was going to Hawaii the next morning. Do I have any clean underwear? I love that part of my job. The going places, not the worrying about underwear.

Anyway, Obama is heading to Honolulu to see his ailing grandmother. I will join the traveling press pool for two days.

I’ve never been to Hawaii, so this is a good opportunity to see what I have been missing all these years. It is also great that I will be able to cross off another state on my quest to visit every state in the United States. Only five more to go.

Upon my arrival in Honolulu I heard a very familiar sound as I walked out of the airport terminal - the distinctive ringing of a San Francisco cable car bell. Sure enough, there was one of those motorized cable car replicas driving by. That’s a little out of place. The funny thing is, I have probably seen more cable car type vehicles in the past few days than I have seen in the past month in San Francisco. I don’t quite understand. Did they get some sort of deal on these things or something?
My first day on the island was spent reliving the life of Barack Obama. I drove all around in my Ford Mustang convertible visiting things from his past. No, I didn't put the top down. Didn't want to mess up my hair. On my journey, I photographed his old school, his grandmother’s house, the place he spread his mother’s ashes and the place beach where he used to bodysurf. This place is beautiful. I’m not too wild about the touristy downtown area, but it isn’t hard to escape that by driving 20 minutes outside of town.

I rolled the dice on a hotel that I found online called Celebrity Resort. Yeah, I know, cheesy name. It was pretty low rent. I might even go so far as to say that the Final Stay in Denver was a little bit nicer. My room was pretty funny. Bad early eighties white furniture and really bad art. It had a little balcony that overlooked a courtyard with a pool. When I pulled back the curtains the first thing I saw was two really large women on lounge chairs by the pool. I never opened the curtain again. The TV was the polar opposite of my TV at the Final Stay. If you remember, the TV in that room had a picture but the sound would not turn up past 4. Well, this one had sound, but no picture. I am obviously not meant to watch TV.
I met up with Honolulu Star Bulletin photographer Jamm Aquino and his girlfriend Erica for a beer. I think every photographer that comes through this town ends up hanging with Jamm. Super cool guy. I thank him for all of his recommendations of places for me to eat at. Not like I need to eat anymore than I do, but how could I pass up sushi in Hawaii.

With All Due Respect

Karl Rove is an ass. There, I said it. I’m not denying that he is brilliant at what he does and is obviously really intelligent seeing that he knows how to spin any situation to his favor. But really, he’s is just an ass. Why so angry?

Its day two of the Mortgage Brokers Association conference and Rove is doing a panel discussion with former Senator George Mitchell. An unlikely pair for sure. The MBA chairman was moderating a conversation with two guys with topics ranging from the economy to the election. Needless to say, it got nasty. The discussion started off with a bang as protestors once again stormed the stage and unfurled pink banners calling Rove a criminal. The one woman who got on the stage actually grabbed Rove and kept yelling that she was “placing him under citizens arrest “ for crimes committed during his time as Bush’s advisor.
A few more of the Code Pink women came out throughout the event. Again, they yelled out that they were going to arrest Rove which prompted Karl to quip “you and what law enforcement agency”.
It didn’t take long for Karl and George to turn up the heat during the discussion. It was going pretty mellow and then all of the sudden Rove let loose on Mitchell with an angry sounding lecture as a rebuttal to something that the former senator had said. I overheard a woman in the front whisper to her friend “wow, he’s angry”. The two traded jabs over and over again on every topic that was thrown their way. Rove was right on message with attack. It was like watching the last Obama/McCain debate, but Mitchell is no Obama.
Every attack that Rove waged on Mitchell was prefaced by saying “with all due respect…” He must have said it at least a dozen times, just to give you an idea of how many times he was on the attack. This would be the word to drink by if we had been playing one of those drinking game. We would have been sloshed.

One of the best parts of the discussion came when Mitchell mentioned the robocall tactics that Rove and Bush used in the 2000 primaries to level McCain in South. Rove got pissed about this and flat out denied any involvement with that. Since Mitchell hadn’t said what was said in the robocalls, Rove challenged Mitchell to tell the audience what he was referring to. Mitchell wouldn’t jump in the trap. It was like watching FOC News with Sean Hannity and his way of speaking louder than his guest and trying to force them into slipping up by cutting them off and blasting them with repeated questions. I don’t know how they get away with calling that news.

I didn’t expect this conversation to end up like it did. I was actually kind of caught off guard when it started to escalate to that level. I think Rove must have been beaten up and teased a lot as a kid for being such a dorky looking dude.

You Got Pink'd

It seems like wherever I go across this country I keep seeing the same person over and over again. Code Pink founder Madea Benjamin is everywhere. And wherever she is, she’s getting arrested. This woman must have a zillion frequent flier miles and a rap sheet longer than Pacman Jones. How does she do it? I’ve seen her in New York, Denver, Minneapolis, Boston, and of course, all over San Francisco.

Ms. Benjamin popped up today at the Mortgage Broker’s Association annual conference. I real snooze fest of an event. I was there to cover the new CEOs of the companies that you and I partially own, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Thanks to that bailout a few months back, we get to use our taxes on buying up businesses. We also have an insurance company. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be in on a mortgage company AND an insurance company. And I thought home ownership was as good as it got.
Anyway, The Fannie and Freddie CEOs were doing this panel discussion and all of the sudden a woman walks out and whispers something into the moderator’s ear. I was watching this go down and really thought nothing of it. I assumed that it was a stage manager telling him to wrap it up or something. All of the sudden, she turns and I see that it’s Medea. Of course, I had been shooting something in the dark part of the room and my camera settings were not right for the stage so I fumbled with that for a minute. She started blurting out her opposition to the bailout and something about foreclosures. What was incredible about this Madea sighting was the fact that she was mic’d and her message was going over the event’s sound system. So, not only did she get on the stage from backstage, she hacked into their sound system.

It took over two minutes for the security people to get their acts together and get her off stage. Madea is a crazy one, but man, she sure does know how to infiltrate just about any venue.

An Apple A Day, Or At Least Every Few Months

I don’t know what my problem is. I am always way too early for assignments. For the second day in a row I left the house before the sun was up. I guess I was a little nervous that there would be a huge media mob at the Apple event. The press check-in was scheduled to open at 9:30 so I figured I would get there an hour early. Why? I don’t know. There was about 5 of us there when I arrived. I could have slept for another half hour.

I’m covering an Apple product launch at their HQ in Cupertino, California. Steve Jobs is announcing a new line of revamped MacBooks, just in time for the Christmas shopping season. If anyone wants to buy me one of these new laptops, I think it would be a good gift. Just throwing it out there.

This is my first trip to the Apple mother ship. Looks like a fun place to work. The Apple folks are always really friendly. They even remember my name. That’s cool. The company is obviously doing well, the special product announcements are happening more often.
The new laptops are really nice looking and have some nice new features. The glass trackpad that is similar to the touch screen on an iPhone is pretty sweet. I always feel a little weird at the Apple events when I bust out my Dell laptop to file my pictures. I get nervous, like someone might scold me or something. So far that hasn’t happened. Maybe next time I will bring my iPod to balance things out.
Jobs still looks skinny. Not that I really expected him to be much different since the last time I saw him about a month ago. Maybe he is normal. Maybe he isn’t. Who knows. He did poke fun at himself again by showing a slide with his healthy blood pressure in response to a recent report that he had suffered a heart attack. I don’t know if it is fair to say he is dying because he is skinny. I used to be pretty skinny, now I’m not. I wasn’t dying when I was skinny. So, people change. My weight has changed so much in the past 10 years that one of those TSA guys at the airport in Minneapolis didn’t think I was the person on my driver’s license. He did a few double takes, pulled out that stupid little blue flashlight thing and then said, “that doesn’t look like you.” It’s an old picture, what can I say. California recycles your picture for years.

I’m Looking forward to Macworld in January and more new cool stuff from Apple. Maybe by then I will be skinny again. Steve, any diet tips would be much appreciated.

Pumpkins On Steroids

Every year they have this pumpkin weigh-off in Half Moon Bay, California. People come from all over the west coast with their pickup trucks loaded with gargantuan pumpkins that they have grown. The mutant gourds come in all sorts of shapes, sizes and colors. From lat ones that look like a blob of gum to nearly perfect orange ones that could be used as a giant jack-o-lantern. The smallest ones weigh in at about 185 pounds and the big winners usually tip the scales at around 1,500 pounds.
The event technically starts at 7am when they start weighing pumpkins – the smallest ones first. For some insane reason I always get there right at 7 knowing full well that the thing won’t end until almost noon. The big prize winning pumpkins don’t even hit the scales until 10am at the earliest. The event rarely ends before 11:30. I wonder why so many people bring pumpkins that are in the 200-400 pound range. Its not like they are going to win anything. If I pulled up with my scrawny little-big pumpkin and saw one of those that is over a thousand pounds, I’d just keep on driving past the event and go make a dozen pumpkin pies at home.
With the likelihood of the event going at least an hour over its scheduled time for completion, Fred Larson from the Chronicle ended up leaving to go shoot a more pressing assignment. Matt Sumner from the Bay Area News Group kept checking his watch as he was in danger of missing his next assignment if the weighing of the big ass pumpkins was delayed any longer. I will give credit to the organizers, they give us great access and pretty much let us do anything we want. Gotta love that.
Workers brought out the “final four” on forklifts and raised them up for the crowd to see. Everyone ooooh’d and ahhh’d. Then, one by one, the massive mutations are lifted onto a scale and people cheer as the weight pops up on a little LCD screen. Some of the farmers react by pumping their fists. Others just stand there and mumble to themselves.
The guy that won this year is the same guy that won last year. Thad Starr of Oregon crushed the competition with his big white blob that weighed in at 1528 pounds, 4 pounds better than one year ago. Mr. Starr’s celebration upon learning that he had won was anything but photogenic. It looked as if he had just got punched in the stomach as he hunched over and half pumped his fists. He needs a jube coach if he is gonna keep winning this contest.

I was eavesdropping on an interview with the winner and he said that he spends hours each day babysitting the pumpkin as it grows and uses thousands of gallons of water over the 4 month growing period. There should be a doping agency that monitors these guys, I bet they probably use all kinds of Barry Bonds type growth enhancers to get these things as big as they are. Or, maybe they are just good at what they do, unlike me, the guy who can’t even grow tomatoes that get bigger than one inch. Mr. Black Thumb.

The Heels Are On...

Reuters staff photographer Carlos Barria is under fire for taking a photo during a McCain rally that shows the legs and heels of Sarah Palin. On the FOX news website, thousands have charged that the photo is sexist and is part of some grand scheme by the “mainstream media” to suggest that Palin’s only qualifications are her looks. I think that the general public is intelligent enough to draw their own conclusions on Palin based on her actions, not her looks. Some people have said that a picture like this wouldn’t have been taken if Palin was a man. There are a good number of people that have responded to the claim and see nothing wrong with it.

I am having a hard time seeing anything wrong with this photo. The picture of a candidate’s feet is nothing new. I know, I have recycled that photo many times over the years – of both men and women. I don’t remember hearing an outcry from the Hillary campaign or anyone else when just about every wire service photographer lined up her heels with supporters or her husband. Where was FOX news then? Where were the critics? It doesn’t make sense that now, all of the sudden, it’s a problem. To debunk the theory that “this photo would have never happened if Palin was a man” I looked back into my archives to see whose feet I had shot. The list is long. I found photos of John Kerry, John Kerry’s daughter, Mike Huckabee and even a woman named Hillary Clinton. The one photo that is similar to Carlos’ picture is of Vannessa Kerry, John Kerry’s daughter. It was in Ohio and her legs are prominent in the frame and John is speaking in the background. I don’t remember any contoversy about that photo.
The Huckabee photo shows his alligator skinned cowboy boots in an awkward stance at this community center in Iowa. The other Kerry pictures were similar. The only difference between the Palin picture and the multitude of Hillary shoe photos that are out there, including mine, is that Hillary doesn’t wear 3 to 4 inch heels or skirts. I did manage to find this comment about a Hillary shoe picture that was written by a woman. See it here.

I personally think that there are far more important issues at stake in this race than worrying about a photo that shows things that the campaign has highlighted in their stump speeches. Are her hands off limits too?

“The heels are on, the gloves are off” - Sarah Palin, October 6, 2008

Round Two - Gloves Off....Not Really

I thought the people in Minnesota were nice, but man, the folks in Nashville are over the top with their niceness. Everywhere you go, people are saying hi to you and reminding you to have a good day. Restaurant workers and bartenders actually engage in conversation with you. A bartender the night before described a bunch of local beers to us, even gave samples, and never seemed annoyed.

Today we had lunch at a good Jewish style deli called Noshville before heading to the debate hall. The food was good, at least my pastrami sandwich was. Scott didn’t seem to impressed with his Reuben. It did look a little greasy. A woman and her husband at the next table overheard us talking about the debate and struck up a conversation with us. They were talking about how they were Obama supporters and wished they could be at the debate. The woman was impressed by how we all came from different parts of the country to take pictures at the event. She asked to shake my hand when we left. Damn nice people here.

We got to debate hall at Belmont University close to 2pm. We would have arrived earlier if we hadn’t been delayed by a multi street closure for McCain’s motorcade. We must have been sitting for 15 minutes while Tennessee troopers locked down a half mile section of road in the pouring rain to accommodate his motorcade. Haven’t these cops ever heard of leapfrog intersection control?

With close to 6 hours to kill before the debate started, we did a few final tests on the cameras. The four Getty photographers would all be shooting tethered into 2 editor’s computers. When everything checked out, a few of us went to the food tent to grab a snack. The food and beverages at the debate has been sponsored by Budweiser and when we walked into the tent at about 4pm, the beer was already flowing. First of all, I don’t remember any media event over my career where there was free beer BEFORE the event started. I’ve seen a few where they might have some beer after, but never before. People were drinking cups of beer as they munched on snacks before the main meal was served. Don’t these people have to work?

The second weird thing about the beer in the media tent is the fact that since 1951, Belmont University has been a dry campus. No Alcohol. The University made a one day exception for the campus to serve booze to media mob. That was very kind of the University to be so accommodating. I felt cheated though. I never got to have a beer on the historic day. Damn.
The debate itself was pretty good for pictures. The “Town Hall” setting is much more photogenic than the kind where they stand behind podiums. I was shooting from a ridiculously small cut riser with 7 other photographers. It worked, but it was pretty tight. With both candidates moving around to speak directly to the audience, you had many opportunities to get both guys in the frame.
I usually don’t hear too much of what people are saying when I am shooting so I only caught bits and pieces of the debate. The one thing I did hear was when McCain referred to Obama as “That One” when trying to point out that Obama had voted for some Senate bill. Nice one, Maverick. Obama shut him down later with his reminder to McCain of his “bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran” tune. The look on McCain’s face was priceless.
Both sides must have said "fundamental" a few dozen times. I'm sure people who were partaking in drinking games while watching the debate got sloshed with the frequency of that word. But, in the end, there didn’t appear to be many fireworks or below the belt jabs. McCain actually looked at Obama this time. William Ayers was never mentioned, I guess that's Palin's deal. McCain won't touch it. With the exception of Tom Brokaw getting testy when the two would go over their time limit and not follow the format of the debate, the event was pretty tame.

When the debate ended the candidate’s wives joined their husbands on the stage and greeted members of the audience. McCain left within 5 minutes while Obama and his wife stayed for over 20 minutes. Many members of the audience (who were said to be undecided voters) stayed the entire time. Obama shook hands, took pictures and spoke one on one with several people. McCain must have not wanted to shmooze those undecided voters. Such a Maverick move.

KISSing in Nashville

When I was a kid I LOVED the band KISS. By the time I was 7 I had probably seen them live 4 or 5 times. My dad was a rock n’ roll photographer and back in the day he would sometimes take me with him to shows that he shot. I don’t think I actually liked the music but was more impressed and in awe of the theatrics. Gene Simmons with his big platform boots, that oozing blood that would come out of his mouth and the big axe bass guitar. I remember I would get scared when he would do the big fire blowing trick. At one show I actually covered my eyes because I thought it would be “hotter than hell”, the title of their album at the time. I missed a cool stunt.

I’m in Nashville tonight and after testing our cameras for the presidential debate we headed to Jack’s BBQ for dinner. When we arrived at Jack’s, there was a big group of people outside the front window taking pictures with their point-and-shoot cameras. We peered over a few people to see none other than Gene Simmons sitting by himself in a booth eating a plate of BBQ. While we waited in line to get our food, we watched as people lined up to meet the 70’s rock star. He never cracked a smile, just sat there as people mugged for pictures. Why was he sitting in the booth next to the window? Attention whore.

The food line was long, when we finally got to the counter to order our food the man behind the counter announced that he was out of everything except pork shoulder and ham. Ugh. We had come to this place for some serious BBQ. Now we would miss out on the ribs, brisket and chicken. Oh well.
After we ate I asked my assignment editor Pierce if he would snap a frame of me and Gene Simmons. We headed back to where he was sitting and by chance ran into him in the hallway. I asked if he would be willing to take a picture with me and he quickly said “sure thing.” Pierce pulled out his camera and started to turn it on and Gene seemed to get impatient and said “why don’t I go take a piss while this guy figures out how to use his camera.” Ouch. Pierce got it together and snapped 2 frames. Gene went to go relieve himself and we went back to our table. I should have asked him to do that tongue thing that he does. That would have been funny.

Another Sad Day For Journalism

With newspapers across the U.S. laying off staff almost daily, there has been a big push lately by these struggling papers to have readers send in stories and photos to balance out their coverage. For the papers, it’s great. They get FREE content, like all those cute cat and dog photos that I see on S.F. Chronicle’s website. Its not news, but people love that stuff. It generates hits and advertisers like that. But what about when so-called “citizen journalists” send in stories? People with no real training or understanding of ethics in journalism are providing opinion based commentary to sway a story in the favor of their cause or just flat out lying about the facts.
I was appalled to read yesterday that a “report” on CNN’s contributor based iReport.com website was claiming that Apple CEO Steve Jobs had suffered a “major heart attack” and was being rushed to a hospital. This seemingly grave news was leaked and sent Apple’s stock into a tailspin, falling close to 10 percent within minutes of the “rumor” before recovering to end the session down to a one year low.

Are you kidding me? It makes me sick that a “story” (or in this case a fairy tale) on a website that is geared towards Joe six pack wannabe reporters and faux-tographers would be given credibility and be allowed to sway the stock market. Why was this story allowed to become fact before it was found to be untrue? It makes no sense that facts weren’t checked before this rumor was leaked into the financial world. Stories like this need to be investigated and fact checked before being leaked. It is insanely irresponsible for any credible news agency to reveal such a rumor based on some random person on a website like iReport.com. Journalism is hurting and stuff like this does nothing to help our cause.

To think that shareholders of Apple stock took a financial hit yesterday because someone thought it would be funny to play a little joke or to get ahead in a short sale of Apple stock while under the guise of a “reporter.” Hopefully, the person that did this will be held accountable for their actions and made an example of so people don’t pull stunts like this in the future.

If people want to snap photos of car crashes and whatever else they stumble upon while going about their daily lives, great. Photographers and reporters can't be everywhere. Sometimes people luck out with a nice frame on their point and shoot. But there is no place in the world of journalism for people who set up a situation so it appears to be news. It disgusts me that contributors of this nature are associated with professional journalism by calling them “citizen journalists.” Can I be a citizen pilot the next time I fly to New York? How about citizen doctor? I'm sure I can do a triple bypass operation, no problem.

Let’s be real here, these people aren’t journalists and shouldn’t be labeled as such. It is really killing the already struggling credibility of journalism.

Baked Alaska and Delaware Punch

What ever happened to Delaware Punch? Remember, it was that super sweet grape-like flavored drink that came in a purple and pink can. It was known as the “soft” soft drink since it wasn’t carbonated. My mom used to love that stuff. I thought it tasted like perfume. Not that I have ever consumed perfume. You know what I mean. Now, baked Alaska is something that I have never tried. Where in the hell do you get baked Alaska? I don’ think I have ever seen it on a menu. I do like the flames. Is that normal? Someone should have had a bi-partisan viewing party for the VP debate with these two things served up for guests. Someone would surely get lit on fire by the baked Alaska flames. Good times.

Did you join millions of Americans and watch the VP debate? I was working during the debate, so I missed most of it. What I did see was fairly entertaining though. I went to a few different places to take pictures of people watching the debate. My first stop was at a viewing party hosted by the Barack Obama campaign. The venue was held at a night club which was as dark as a cave. There was a sizeable crowd on hand but I didn’t stay at the even very long since it was so dark, I didn’t want to kill people with the inevitable use of a flash, which I am not a fan of. The crowd was pretty raucous, booing, hissing and often laughing as Sarah Palin spoke. I don’t think anyone actually listened to what she was saying. As I left the Obama event, I noticed people overflowing onto the street at an Irish Pub across the street. They seemed a little more civil as they watched the debate but this is San Francisco and people were certainly poking a lot of fun at the republican VP candidate as she dodged questions and in some cases changed the subject. More pictures of the back of people's heads as they watched TV. I wish they would stand with their backs to the TV so I can see their faces. Would make a much nice picture.
On my way to my final spot, a laundry, I listened to the debate on the radio. I was becoming increasingly annoyed with the “you betchas” and the “gosh dangits.” I understand the whole “wanting to appeal to the working class” but come on. I thought I was listening to Edie McClurg (the woman with the high pitched voice from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Planes, Trains and Automobiles). Man, what an annoying voice. And that accent is getting old.
At the wash and dry in the Mission District, several Latino families were doing their laundry as Palin and Biden duked it out on three of the six televisions in the building. Nobody was watching the debate. I guess it is difficult to follow a debate when the sound is down and you probably don’t understand English. They seemed to be enjoying the other TVs with Telemundo and Mexican soap operas.

Finally, A Campaign With Access

If you haven’t already noticed, it’s an election year. It’s been a busy year for campaign coverage starting with Iowa way back in December of last year. I’ve been on some really good campaigns, Huckabee comes to mind. Despite the lack of staff and an actual plan to deal with members of the press, it was a lot of fun and the photos were always interesting. Hillary had her shining moments, but for the most part that was one of the most controlled campaigns I have been on since Schwarzenegger ran for Governor. You pretty much got nothing and liked it. No picture for you.

Today, I am back out on the campaign. No, not out with Obama again, and no, not Quaylin either. I am rolling with Cindy Sheehan, independent candidate for U.S. Congress as she attempts to unseat Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. Yup, Nancy Pelosi. Cindy is not a fan. You might remember Cindy, she is the mom of Casey Sheehan, who was killed in Iraq in April of 2004. Cindy waged a cross-country campaign against the war and George Bush in an attempt to get people to demand that we pull out of Iraq. Her movement worked for a little while but couldn’t keep the momentum going. So, she made plans to retire. That plan didn’t really stick either. My day “traveling” with the candidate started early. It’s a busy day for the candidate with 4 scheduled events alongside Green Party presidential candidate Ralph Nader. When I arrive at the campaign headquarters, several campaign workers are using packing tape to adhere homemade and printed campaign signs to the side of a van conversion/RV type vehicle that Cindy affectionately calls “Jezebel”. The workers are all buzzing around and making sure they have everything together for the first event. Cindy arrives at 9:30 with her Chihuahua Petie.

When it was time to go, about 10 of us piled into the RV with the candidate holding the back door open for us. There was no security sweep and no bomb sniffing dog checking out my equipment. I wasn’t told to wear a campaign issued credential or a Secret Service pass. I was confused for a minute. This was nothing like the usual campaign routine I am used to. Where’s the metal detector, I need my daily dose of radiation. The other thing that is awkward and unfamiliar, I am the only member of the press on this bus.
On the ride over to the first event, Cindy sat in the front seat, an uncommon move for a candidate on a bigger national campaign. She hung out of the window yelling to pedestrians to “vote for me” and “vote for peace.” Something else I have not seen too much of on other campaigns. I'd love to see McCain do that. This is kind of fun.
The first event is a press conference. When we arrived, Cindy seemed pleased that there was a single TV camera already set up. Another would show up later. This was by no means a huge press event, but she seemed happy that people had come out. She mingled with people, thanked them for coming. I shadowed her as she moved around the small crowd, while she greeted old friends and even when she went off to make a phone call. I keep waiting for the inevitable “you can’t be here” line by one of her staffers. It never came. As a matter of fact, I never heard the word “no” all day. My friends out on the big presidential campaigns today would be jealous.
After the presser, we all went back to Cindy’s headquarters and hung out. Cindy and her Chief of Staff had a meeting at a donut shop where they bought breakfast for a homeless woman. Our next event was a fundraiser lunch for Ralph Nader. What’s up with that guys eye? One of them seems to be bigger than the other, kind of like McCain. The $250 a plate lunch attracted nearly 20 people. They all munched on sushi, mussels and finger sandwiches. Nader spoke towards the end and complained that he was not getting the media attention that he deserves and asked why even Code Pink wouldn’t endorse his candidacy. I wish I had answers for him. While he was saying this I was emailing back and forth with my editor asking her if we needed any pictures of him. The answer was a confident no. Sorry Ralphie, I tried.
Another thing I am noticing about this campaign is the lack of flesh pressing. Cindy doesn’t seem to go out of her way to connect with the people like most politicians do. I suppose she doesn’t consider herself a politician, but I would think she would be putting herself out there a little more. I was waiting for those pictures to happen and they never really came. Cindy is a funny woman, has a very dry sense of humor.
The last event for me was a rally at San Francisco State University. On the way over to the rally we were driving on the freeway and the posters taped to the side started to peel away and flap in the wind. We had to pull over and remove the half shredded posters from one side of the RV. Back on the freeway we cruised in the slow lane at about 40 m.p.h. so the other side wouldn’t fly off.
At the school event we picked up photographer Marcio Sanchez from the AP and his reporter. They rode back to the headquarters with us in the RV. Yay, more press. I thought Cindy would have come to the back of the RV to conduct her interview with the AP reporter, but she stayed in her front seat and did the interview over her shoulder. Back at the HQ, Cindy worked in her office while we snapped pictures of her looking intently at her laptop. There was one more event scheduled for the day, but I was done. I was great to have such free access to a candidate. I’m sure that will never happen again.