The Historic Money Shot - DNC Finale

It’s a little after midnight and we just got back to the Final Stay. It was nice and quiet in my room so I cranked up my TV to 4 and was watching CNN. At about 1:15 I heard my neighbor walk into his room with a giggling girl in tow. I can hear everything through the paper thin walls. The radio turned on. I know where this is going. All I can say is that guy had stamina. They must have been going at it for over an hour. “Ooooooh, oooooh, yes baby” The tacky gold framed water color painting above my bed was bouncing at one point. If only my TV volume could go past four. I eventually fell asleep and missed the magic moment, the so-called "money shot." This made my stay at the Final Stay complete.

Today is the big finale of the convention, the much anticipated Obama acceptance speech. The event is so big that we have moved out of the Pepsi Center to the neighboring Invesco Field. This move was a logistical nightmare for the Getty technical staff and field editors. At the conclusion of Biden’s speech on Wednesday, they had to completely tear down the network of computers and spoolers to move the operation over. Our chief photographer Win McNamee also had to move tons of lenses and camera equipment over as well to avoid having to have it all swept the next day. He hung remote cameras and took care of other things until the wee hours of the morning. The move to Invesco was not welcomed by many in the media, especially TV.

The day started out early for us and would go late. We got to Invesco at 10 a.m. for a speech that was scheduled to begin at 8 p.m. Despite the early start, the shuttle ride from the Pepsi Center and the extra security, this was going to an historic day. This is why I love my job. I get to experience some amazing things.
It’s warm out, but not too warm. The day would have been tough if it was as hot as it had been all week. People began to stream in at noon. By three o’clock the stadium was nearing capacity. Eight Getty photographers were in place around the stadium when the speakers began shortly after three. For the most part, they were pretty dull until the five o’clock hour when Will.i.am and John Legend performed. Shortly after Sheryl Crow did a quick three song set. Stevie Wonder came later. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.
Al Gore brought the crowd of flag waving democrats to their feet as he took the stage. His speech had a few of those funny Al Gore one liners which the crowd loved. His best one was when he took a swipe at John McCain’s failed policies that mimic the Bush administration. Gore said “Hey, I believe in recycling, but that’s ridiculous.”
The big moment came a little bit after eight. Obama took the stage and 84,000 people came to their feet in a roar. Lights flashed, flags waved. Invesco was alive. Obama walked to the podium, waving to the crowd. He is not one to really ham it up to the crowd like some politicians do. I don’t think I have ever seen him do that pointing thing that Hillary does or the fist pump thumbs-up thing. I like that about him. At the podium, he repeatedly said thank you to the crowd. So far, the pictures weren’t that great. His speech was close to an hour long. From my side position, the photos were limited. The money shot was supposed to come at the end when fireworks, confetti and streamers were to be launched from the top of the stadium. Rumors were going around that the fireworks show would be very Beijing-like. When it all went down, it was pathetic. The families came out on the stage, did the wave thing, but the fireworks and confetti never came. When it did, after they had left the runway stage, the fireworks were wimpy, the confetti was intermittent and the streamers were launched into the wires of the Skycam. I hope they enhanced the fireworks for the TV viewers at home just as they did for the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. Still, it was history and very cool.

Bring on the RNC and the Tiny Fey lookalike VP candidate. See you in Minnesota.

Billy Joe - DNC Day 3

It is Arctic cold in the Pepsi Center this morning. They crank up the AC so when the crowd comes in the body temperature will balance out the cold and everyone will be comfortable. At 10 in the morning when nobody is in the hall, it is not comfortable. I’m filling in for my co-worker Mark Wilson on the main riser, better known as the “Cadillac” riser. I sat there for close to 3 hours waiting for an unexpected guest to do their walk through and sound check. Melissa Etheridge came out to rehearse her one song performance. She’s doing a medley of Americana songs, like Born in the U.S.A. and God Bless America. Very Patriotic.

Many things are happening today. The first big event was the convention roll call. The delegates officially cast their votes for who will be the party’s presidential nominee. It’s a long drawn out process, kind of boring actually. Both Obama and Hillary are in the running. There was plenty of excitement surrounding the New York delegation. Hillary was slated to announce New York’s votes and the scrum of all scrums surrounded the microphone in the delegation’s area. It was packed tight. I am so glad I wasn’t in the middle of that.

When New York was called to vote, Hillary walked out from the bowels of the Pepsi Center with New York Governor David Paterson and U.S. Senator Chuck Shumer. Hillary asked the convention chairman to cease the voting process and name Barack the nominee. No shenanigans from ol’ Hill as some thought there might be. How is that for unity? The crowd went nuts, people were breaking down and crying. It was quite the scene.

The day dragged on until Bill Clinton took the stage. The convention floor erupted at first site of Bubba. Democrats LOVE Bill Clinton. It was by far the loudest that hall had been since the convention started. The most surprising thing was that he was actually on time. Bill is NEVER on time. The standing ovation lasted so long that Bill actually said that people should sit down, he wanted to keep things moving. The crowd pretty much ignored him and kept cheering. He responded by saying “I really like this.” A typically stellar Bill Clinton speech followed. This is turning into the Clinton Show. People are now jammed in every open area of the convention floor waiting for the Buh-Buh-Biden to deliver is acceptance speech. The fire marshal isn’t happy. Red signs with “Biden” on them are distributed amongst the crowd. Biden’s son Beau announced his father who came out to thunderous cheers (not as loud as Bill’s though) and hugged his son which appeared to bring tears to the senator’s eyes as he slyly pulled a tissue from his pocket to wipe his eye. The speech itself wasn’t bad. He didn’t stutter, although I wish he would have, just to hear what that sounds like.

The speech ended in normal political speech fashion. His wife came out, they waved. It was cute. But that wasn’t it. Just like Steve Jobs always says at MacWorld. There was one more thing. I got the email from the campaign before the start of Biden’s speech that Obama would be joining his new running mate on stage. I think this was the only thing that could trump Bill Clinton’s adoration from the crowd. It was insane. Arm in arm, they waved to the crowd. Kind of weird move to have them both together a day before Obama makes his acceptance speech. Sort of like the groom seeing the bride on wedding day. After the long day with little food, we were going to try and find somewhere to eat. It was pretty late, around 10:30 so our options were limited. We ended up giving our freelancer Max Whittaker a ride to his hotel about 20 minutes south of downtown. He said he knew of a good Mexican place near where he was staying which piqued the interest of Spencer and Sandy. When we got there, it was closed. Max asked a worker if he knew of any thing that was open nearby and he responded immediately with “there is an Old Chicago about two blocks away.” Determined to not eat at another Old Chicago, we settled for a Perkins.

Hillary and My Favorite Martian - DNC Day 2

Soapy water from my previous days shower remained in the tub as I prepared to take my morning shower. Thankfully, I was able to figure out that the stopper had accidentally sealed the drain. I didn’t have to play Roto-Rooter man like my co-worker Cliff Hawkins did in his room. My room at Final Stay has a kitchenette fully equipped with a microwave, stove, toaster, fridge and an assortment of dishes. It has been nice to make toast in the morning and watch the muted television before heading out to work. This was good until today. Today, the toaster blew up. Put the English muffin in, pressed down the lever and with a dazzling display of light, half the heating elements were gone.

The security sweeps to enter the Pepsi Center have become more efficient compared to the first day when it took us 45 minutes to get through. Originally, the E.O.D. guys were hand searching every piece of equipment, which was a total drag. Now, we just push everything through an x-ray machine, even leaving laptops in their cases. Hey T.S.A., you hear that? And we get to leave our shoes on too!

Today’s line-up looked to be a real snoozer with dozens of boring speakers leading into the big Hillary speech. I laughed when I saw that Dennis Kucinich (my favorite martian) was scheduled to speak at around 5:00 pm. But, when Dennis hit the stage, he put on the performance of his life. Kucinich, who is known for his defiant opposition to the war in Iraq, belted out a spirited speech outlining the Bush administrations neglect to the citizens of America. Referring to high gas prices, home foreclosures, outsourcing business to other countries and even Hurricane Katrina, Dennis flailed his arms about, shouting “wake up America!” He was so into it that he would occasionally seem to be lifting off the ground as he pumped his fists. His wife must be proud.

Fellow photographer Matt Cavanaugh (EPA) and I share a small portion of the “pod” (riser) on the right side of the stage. It isn’t the best spot at the venue, but it’s what we were assigned to cover. We’ve been passing the time during the long 6 hour session by providing commentary during the speeches. We have come to the conclusion that the phrase for this convention is “failed policy.” Every single person that speaks, whether it’s the local dog catcher or Dennis Kucinich, they all say it. Sometimes they say it more than once. If its not in your speech, you’re not with the program.
After 6 pm, the bigger names come out to speak. With each speaker, a sign with a slogan relevant to that person is passed out. For instance, when Michelle Obama spoke the previous night, tall paddle-like signs with “Michelle” written on them were passed out to everyone in the crowd. Kennedy had a more traditional campaign sign that simply read “Kennedy.” Today I saw one that said “One Nation.” I turned to Matt and said that the Obama campaign should avoid the slogan “Obama Nation” – people might get the wrong idea.
Hillary was the big headliner this evening. She hit the stage in her mustard yellow pant suit after a short video of her life and an introduction by her daughter Chelsea. The crowd went wild. They waved signs that read “unity” “Hillary” and “Obama” We had earlier witnessed someone handing Bill Clinton a “unity” sign which he wanted nothing to do with. He wouldn’t even touch it. Looks like the feud between him and Obama continues.
Hillary’s speech was great, she even topped my favorite martian's speech. Like the night before, it brought tears to many eyes in the Pepsi Center. In typical Clinton fashion, she stole the show. She exited gracefully and the night was over.

It was beer time. A few nights earlier we had gone to a chain restaurant across the street from the Final Stay called “Old Chicago” which has some 110 beers on its menu. It’s kind of a gross place, typical chain restaurant type of fare. So, tonight, we thought we would go out somewhere in downtown Denver. Somewhere fun that was cool and local. We walked out of heavily guarded Fort Pepsi walked across the bridge and right into an Old Chicago restaurant. How pathetic are we?

Michelle and Teddy - Day One of the DNC

I think Barack made a mistake by picking Joe Buh-Buh-Biden as his VP. He should have picked his wife, Michelle. Her speech that topped the first night of the DNC was impressive. She was an amazing blend of real person and seasoned politician. The woman can speak. Men and women in the packed Pepsi Center were brought to tears as she spoke of family, dreams and her love of country. Michelle also appears to have had some serious stage training. Most political wives often seem uncomfortable and shut down (Teresa Heinz Kerry comes to mind) but Michelle comes off as intelligent and confident. She knows how to play up the crowd, comes out waving and makes sure she acknowledges the entire audience. From a photographer’s perspective this is great since most come out and barely lift their arms as they look at their feet.

Day two of the convention started early for me. I was on the early shift with my co-workers Mark Wilson and Cliff Hawkins. We cover the hall until noon when the rest of the crew arrives. The big event for the morning is Michelle Obama doing a sound and light check. When we first arrived, it was just me and AP photographer Charlie Dharapak on the floor. Within an hour, there were dozens of photographers jammed up against the stage. We stood like this for a couple of hours. Boredom sets in fast when you’re just standing there like cattle. We amused ourselves by taking tons of pictures of the guy vacuuming the carpet on stage. The only thing that diverted attention away from the vacuum man was the overly made up and super cheesy E Insider reporter who was doing stand up with her shirt half open. It was funny in a not so pretty way. She even asked me if I could take her picture and put it up on the wire. You can’t make this stuff up.

The day was long. By 2 pm we had to be in our positions where we would be for the next 7 hours. Howard Dean dropped the gavel at 3 pm, officially starting the convention. Delegates wearing goofy hats and costumes started to stream in. The variety show style band was playing bad cover songs to lead into and out of the different speakers. The Florida delegation appears to be the most outrageous with dozens of them wearing pink glasses and pink flamingo feathers as they danced and played volleyball with beach balls. The photographers on the floor swarm.

There are dozens of people speaking, from the City Clerk of Chicago to Ted Kennedy. So much of the day is spent listening to the same speech over and over again about how Barack Obama is so great and how “we can’t have four more years of the same failed policy.” It is numbing after a while. The worst speaker of the day was liberal republican Jim Leach. The man needs a personality. He didn’t move a muscle in his body during his speech. I’m not even sure his mouth moved. If the arena lights had been dimmed, the entire place would have fallen asleep.

I botched up the Jimmy Carter appearance. From what I understood, he would only be appearing via a taped message. I took this as an opportunity to take a bathroom break. Of course, moments after I dropped down from my position and am nowhere near my camera, he walks out. Thanks buddy.

I was kind of shocked that Teddy Kennedy spoke. I was thinking that he might come out and wave after Caroline gave her tribute to him. But, in typical Teddy fashion, he came out waving to the energized crowd. They had set a stool next to the podium for him to rest on as he spoke and he just pushed it out of the way and stood for his entire speech. I am glad he didn’t collapse on stage or something. That would have been ugly. This could very well be the last time that we see this man. What a way to go if that is the case.

After a late dinner, the crew headed back to the Final Stay America. New information came to light today about some recent activity at the Final Stay. My editor Sandy told me that according to a waitress at the Denny’s across the street, there was a big prostitution ring that was busted at the hotel a few weeks back. She also told her a story about how a man came into the Denny’s recently and became obsessed with trying to win a prize in that machine where you put a quarter in and try to navigate a little crane hook to lift a prize out of a pile of stuffed toys. I guess he spent all of his money unsuccessfully trying to get a stuffed toy. He became frustrated, went to his car, got a shotgun and blew a hole in the glass. He reached in, grabbed a toy and left. This is a very colorful neighborhood.

The DNC

I’m trying to watch the news on my TV at the Extended Stay America hotel but I can’t hear what is being said. The volume on my TV only goes up to 4. Not 11 like Nigel’s amp in Spinal Tap. Our hotel, which we affectionately call the “Final Stay in America” is surprisingly better than expected. I had found a few reviews online that were overwhelmingly negative and many had described the hotel as “disgusting” and “the worst place I have ever stayed at in my life.” I have to say, I have stayed at much worse. It’s basically a Motel 6, not the run down crack house that I expected.

Today was our big test day at the Pepsi Center. After spending nearly a half an hour going through security into the heavily guarded fortress that surrounds the Pepsi Center, we began our set up. We had to put our system through the motions to see how it is going to respond under the pressure of several tethered cameras. We have multiple positions throughout the venue that are hardwired into a server that instantly sends the photos to an editor as we shoot. At the same time, we all fire our cameras, taking pictures of workers and the big game show-like stage. People are setting up signs in the areas that delegates will sit. Secret Service is strategically postitioned around the stage. After several rounds of testing, our system appears ready for action.

After a few hours, we all milled around the center shooting features. Today is the final set up day for the stage techs and members of the media to sort out technical bugs and make final preparations for the start of the convention tomorrow. The networks have several positions throughout the hall, Katie Couric is doing her evening news program live from the convention floor. Wolf Blitzer and Anderson Cooper are also in the house. Walking through the bowels of Pepsiland, I get stuck behind a group of young women who are working for CNN and are wearing t-shirts that have “RUNNER” on the back. They are walking – slowly.

The food situation is sketchy. Until the vendors open for business in the hall, the only option within the secure zone is a carnival style grease wagon that sells hot dogs and typical county fair items or a Circle K gas station food mart. I went for the 2 for $2.29 hot dogs at the Circle K and gave one to my boss. Slim pickens.

The day was long, just as tomorrow will be. Was good to see so many of my friends and hope to see more in the coming days. The big show starts in the morning, bright and early. We will leave the Final Stay at 7 a.m. to get through security and be ready to go as Michelle Obama makes an early morning appearance at the hall for her sound check.

A Whole Different Animal

My cab driver, Ken, who resembles a younger and bigger Danny Glover, leans back in his seat as we pull away from my house. Ken’s seat is so far back we are almost sitting next to each other. His Bluetooth headset illuminates his diamond earring as it blinks blue. “Where you headed today?” I tell him that I am heading to Denver. “Ahh, the convention. Barack screwed up. It’s over, man. McCain won.” His reference to Obama’s choice of Joe Buh-buh-binden for VP continued with “he’s just another white guy, shoulda picked Hillary.” I have a feeling there will be many folks sharing Ken’s sentiments. I wonder if Ken got the text, I forgot to ask.

I’m flying Frontier Airlines, the wildlife themed airline that features pictures of bunnies and other fluffy creatures on its planes. Their slogan is “A Whole Different Animal” – Mrrrrow! Since their online check-in wasn’t working I have to stand in line to check-in for the flight. Seems like every time I have to stand in line to check-in, I stuck behind a family with 6 kids and 20 pieces of luggage which are all over the per-bag weight limit. Today, I am behind 2 families like this. Kids are running all around, bags are everywhere. Thankfully, they didn’t start to unpack and rearrange like most do.

The plane has TVs that you can watch satellite programming for $5.99. They allow you to watch for free during takeoff. Obama’s first rally with Joe Biden is on CNN. Obama has been speaking for about 5 minutes and is just about ready to bring Biden on stage when the TV shuts off. The free trial is over. I try to swipe my card to continue, it won’t work. I was so close. With the TV now off, all I can hear is the whimpering puppy behind me and the screeching kid across the aisle. Something smells. I think one of the aforementioned has gone to the bathroom.

They just announced that margaritas are available for six dollars. Also listed on the in-flight snack menu is Hector’s “Nacho Ordinary” Chips. It goes on to say “Hector (apparently a Mexican grizzly bear) himself chose this salty favorite: crisp, crunchy chips dusted with nacho cheesy goodness. Gracias, Hector” Margaritas and a bear named Hector? I’m not getting the Mexican/wildlife connection. “A whole different nationality of animal.”

Our landing was perfect, I think that is a first for any flight I have had into Denver. I now wait for my co-worker Spencer Platt to arrive and then we will take our soccer mom van to the hotel. Welcome to Denver.

Text? What Text?

For the better part of Friday night, my eyeballs were glued to that green flashing light on my Blackberry waiting for it to turn red. I had to shoot a picture of the text message from the Obama campaign that would reveal his choice for VP. The green turned to red throughout the evening. All sorts of messages were coming in. I got Obama’s traveling press schedule, the daily barrage of Gov. Schwarzenegger emails, a reminder from my boss, etc… When was this Vice President announcement going to come through? What if I don’t get it?

At 10:00 pm, I looked at MSNBC and that red “breaking news” banner emblazoned the top of the page “AP confirms that Obama has picked Biden.” I picked up my Blackberry – still flashing green. Interesting.

I awoke at 6:30am and once again checked the Blackberry. Still flashing green. No text. Not even an email. I’m not loved.

In the end, the text never came and I had to have it forwarded to me to take a picture of it. I bet McCain got the text. Wait, does he know how to use a phone?

Sorry Bill, Not This Time

I wonder if Bill Richardson thought he was going to be named as Obama’s VP. He was on hand at the Rio Grande High School gym rally and gave a very spirited pep talk before introducing the senator to a packed house. He sat intently looking on from the front row, nodding when Obama made points that he agreed with. He clapped at all the right moments. But, the second that Obama finished his speech, Richardson was gone. If you blinked, you missed it. He didn’t even wait for Obama to come by on the rope line for one more handshake. It was like the Roadrunner, just a cloud of dust. Meep meep.

Time to eat.

One of the best things about traveling with a candidate is the food. The only problem is how much food there is. Just about every event has food as does every flight and bus ride. If you aren’t careful you can end up looking like the Michelin Man in no time. It is hard to resist though when the advance staff sets up spreads of local fare. Today we were treated Mexican. I love the food in New Mexico. Every campaign visit I have ever made to New Mexico has been a good culinary experience. Today was no exception. Tacos, enchiladas, chips homemade Mexican cookies – good stuff.

My quick trip inside the bubble ended after the high school event. When the motorcade arrived at Cutter Aviation I hopped off, grabbed my bag and headed to the main terminal for my flight home. This was a very short trip, but there is plenty more in the coming months. Onward to the conventions.

McLovin Obama and Pelosi

A crazy thought was on my mind when I woke up this morning. McLovin (from the movie Superbad) could be Michael Phelps’ twin. Think about it.

Our day started out relatively early with a 7:15 am bag call. We did three decent events in Reno before heading to San Francisco. The take-off from Reno was really bumpy, the landing in SF was terrible. O-Force One slammed down on the tarmac at SFO as if we had just hooked the third wire on the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan. The impact was punctuated by gasps and the sound of metal trays and who knows what else crashing in the galley.

Our stay in SF was brief, about 5 hours. Obama was in town for night of fundraising. Since photos aren’t allowed during fundraisers, the traveling pool ended up with three hours of downtime while the senator raked in $7.8 million dollars as he bounced from one event to another at the Fairmont Hotel. I wish I could make that kind of dough for 3 hours of my time.

A group of us had dinner in Chinatown. A few of the ladies came back to the press hold after shopping at Victoria’s Secret. We all got a good laugh when our press agent had to search their little pink bags during the sweep.

The best part of the night came when we were waiting to move in the motorcade to that airport. We had been holding outside in the pool van for almost 2 hours when the loaded us for our imminent departure. Our van was behind a Highway Patrol car and a staff van. A police car pulled out of the garage followed by two SUV’s and we quickly folded into the movement. Two blocks into it we stop. The officer in the lead car got out and started flailing his arms about. We had stupidly hopped into Nancy Pelosi’s motorcade. We were now out of the bubble – dirty.

We sat in the middle of Powell Street as Dean, our press agent, tried to maneuver us back into the correct motorcade. Alas, it was too late, it had already left. Now, on our own, we zig-zagged through SF trying to get to the airport as soon as possible. The conversation between our Chinese driver James and Dean with his Southern drawl was hilarious as they went back and forth about how to get to the airport. Dean told James to disregard traffic laws and “drive it like you stole it.” James was all over it. We even experienced a burst of flashes as he blew through a red light at a photo enforced intersection. I’m sure the judge will buy his story. “No, really, I was told by a Secret Service agent to run red lights.”

We made it back to the plane and eventually to Albuquerque.

The Obama McCain Meeting

The AC cord from the laptop dangled alongside the shoeless man as he sprinted down the corridor at the Oakland International Airport. His flip flops are nearly falling out of his shoulder bag. Ten minutes earlier an announcement went over the public address calling for this man to come to gate 20 for immediate boarding for the 10:15 flight to Seattle. It was no 10:25. The plane was gone. Might be time to invest in a watch.

I was early for my 11:45 to Orange County. I am headed to Pastor Rick Warren’s mega church in Lake Forest, Ca. for the town hall style meeting with McCain and Obama.

Saddleback Church campus is gigantic. Dozens of buildings, tents and a few restaurants are scattered all over the 120 acre complex where an estimated 20,000 people come to worship. The place has a very weird feeling. The people are overly friendly. I’m not going to drink any kool-aid if it’s offered.

The two presumptive presidential candidates will be questioned by Pastor Warren in a massive 2,000 or so seat auditorium with fake trees in the mezzanine and oversized video monitors above the stage. The giant press riser is so big that it actually looks empty. Maybe it was. I am double-teaming the event with my Los Angeles counterpart David McNew. The plan is to have me join the traveling press and shoot from the buffer and McNew will shoot from the rear.

Church security staff is very weird about our movements in the church and was limiting our photo opportunities from the buffer. We would get three chances, once when Obama and Warren met, another during a commercial break and finally the shot of McCain and Obama meeting at the show’s halfway mark.

The first shot we’re given lasted roughly 45 seconds. The mob of about 15 stills and TV cameras was escorted down a long walkway into the buffer. Some are doing the accelerated walk. The elbows are starting to come out. The light is challenging. A wave to the crowd and we are ushered back to our holding area. Shot two was for the most part in the dark as they turned the stage lights off during the commercial break. As if it wasn’t dark enough already.

Anxious photographers jockeyed for position in the hold as the money shot drew near. As we were escorted down the path to the stage people actually started running. Once at the stage, the pushing began as people tried to jam themselves as close to the stage as possible. I stood behind the pack so I wouldn’t be shooting up their nose. In the blink of an eye we were out.

Traveling press broke away and we moved to the motorcade and were enroute to the airport in Long Beach within a few minutes.

An hour-long flight on O-Force One and we were in Reno. We were staying at the Grand Sierra Resort. After dropping bags in my pimpin’ mirror clad and dimly lit suite, I went people watching in the bar with AP photographer Alex Brandon and Athena Jones of NBC. The people were completely entertaining. From chubby women wearing painted on clothes and a Vanilla Ice look-a-like to Midwest convention goers and a Patrick Swayze wannabe with a bowl cut. The Sways-He impersonator tore up the dance floor with a combination of moves from Dirty Dancing to Sweatin' To The Oldies. Fascinating. Aside from drinking too much, I also lost $40 on the roulette table.

Dell's Latitude

When I got hired at my current job, I had to switch from my Mac laptop to a company issued PC. It was a semi-difficult transition not because I had never used a Windows based machine, I just liked my Mac. Over time, I grew fond of my Dell. Since starting the job in 2003, I have had 3 or 4 different models. The current one, the Latitude D420, is nice. It's light and small, perfect for a photographer on the go. Not as hip as a Mac, but just right for the day to day. 

Today, I shot a Dell event where the company announced a new line of their popular Latitude laptops. One of the laptops in the line-up caught my eye. The successor to the D420 called the Latitude E4200. This looks like a great little laptop.  The compact 12.1 inch laptop, which is due out in a few weeks, will come in an array of colors and weighs in at a pleasantly light 2.2 pounds. My back liked the sound of that. Other cool features are a 16 hour battery and enhanced security options including a fingerprint scanner and remote data delete in the event that your laptop is stolen or lost. 

I wish that I had played with it more, but from what I saw of it I liked it. Looks like a good option for someone like me or anyone that travels a lot. For more about the E4200 and the new line of Dell laptops click here.  

Bay Area Newspapers Hit Hard...again

News came over a week ago that the San Francisco Chronicle is preparing to cut nearly 125 jobs across the board. The cuts come just over a year after the last round of cuts in May of 2007 where 25% of the newsroom staff was let go.

If that wasn't enough, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors voted to increase their annual newspaper rack fees from $30 per rack to $60. Just another financial blow to the already struggling Chronicle as well as other newspapers that use the racks. The new fee will go into effect August 30. You can read more about this story here.

Photo Manipulation of a Different Kind

It seems like every week we are hearing about a photographer getting busted for manipulating a photo. An added ball, a few more flares or an extra column of smoke to make that already acceptable photo a little bit better - or not. It’s a huge problem that has discredited journalism and tarnished the trust between the public and journalists. There appears to be no end in sight.

What about other forms of deception?

I look at a lot of photographer’s websites and have started to take notice of a different kind of manipulation, the enhancement of resumes and biographies. Just like the incident where a Southern California based sports photographer used marketing and advertising as an excuse to move a baseball in a photograph, many are doing the same to market themselves in words. Obviously, it is impossible to know who every photographer has worked for or how long they have been shooting, especially if you don’t know them personally. But some make it easy since their story constantly changes on websites and message boards.

A good example comes from the website of a San Francisco Bay Area photographer who claims to have 20 years experience. Normally, I wouldn’t even notice such a claim if the work reflected that kind of experience. In this case it didn’t. So, I poked around the web for a bit and found that he has several websites and blogs that offered advice, tales of exotic assignments and a lot of conflicting information. One thing that stuck out was an older website that claimed he had 30 years experience, another said 15. Now, I’m no math genius, but those numbers don’t add up. The same photographer also claims to have worked for Getty Images, my employer. I can’t find anyone in the company who has ever heard of him nor do any of his pictures appear on our wire. It just makes me wonder what is true.

Client lists can often be deceptive. One shooter has Sports Illustrated and ESPN the Magazine on his list of “clients” but has only appeared in these magazines by way of the pictures he shot on spec for a sports photo agency, not an assignment. By saying that Sports Illustrated is a client suggests you have an established relationship with the magazine which yields paid assignments. In this instance, that isn’t the case. Having said that “my photos have appeared in…” would have been more truthful.

I know, sounds a little nit-picky and its no secret that it happens in every industry. But really, how much different is that than adding or taking away an element from a photo. It’s lying. People get fired from jobs for lying on resumes.

Having been a freelancer, I know that marketing is a huge part of how freelancers generate their business. It is priority number one to impress potential clients. The question is, why risk your credibility by bending the truth to make yourself sound better than you are? There is more to lose than there is gained from this. As a journalist, I believe that it is your obligation to market your services and experiences honestly and accurately.

A photographer’s portfolio should be strong enough to stand on its own and not rely on exaggerated biographies and work history. I certainly think marketing journalism in an untuthful way is an unethical practice that should be questioned more often.

Running on Fumes

Mexico City was a complete blur. After checking in and then out of the Hotel Camino Real Aeropuerto Mexico in less than an hour we headed off to a press/delegation luncheon at the Four Seasons. I was hoping that since we were in Mexico that the lunch would be an assortment of local food since I love Mexican food. I was disappointed when service staff in neatly starched outfits brought out trays of chicken caeser wraps (which they tried to make sound Mexican by calling it a burrito), French fries and turkey sandwiches. The only thing that was remotely close to Mexican fare was guacamole and homemade chips, which was fantastic.

A few new faces popped up in the delegation crowd, most notably Eric Schmidt, CEO of Google. I guess he must have felt bad about the Google plane dying in Ethiopia.

The lunch was quick but felt good to sit outside on the patio. We were soon gathered up and moved to the motorcade. We were headed to my last stop of the trip, the World AIDS conference. Bill would be giving the keynote address.

The convention hall was enormous, so big that it looked empty. The media mob was insane. There had to have been at least 30 photographers jammed up against the stage in front of the podium. Before Bill came out, the security people made all the photographers move from that spot into the aisles. This was great, because I have no idea how anyone was going to get a picture that way. It also opened things up a little bit for Barb and I to move around.

Midway through the speech I moved up to the stage. A security guard came up to me and said that I had to move back to the riser. I showed him my Clinton staff credential and he quickly and politely smiled, said thank you and walked away. No less than 4 minutes later he returned. It was a repeat performance of our last encounter. This happened two more times.

Filing was easy for once. I could actually use the Sprint card instead of the BGAN or painfully slow and erratic hotel wi-fi. My pictures were filed and I was done.

The airport was a breeze to get through. The departures board showed that my Mexicana flight to San Francisco was on time. Thank god. The first on time flight in a week. I had plenty of time to visit the duty free and stock up on my beloved tequila. I was dead tired, but happy to be going home.

But of course, what would this trip be without one more jab. The on time status of Mexicana 972 had now changed to delayed. Albeit a short 45 minute delay, it was still a delay. All I wanted to do was get on that plane and rest my head against the wall and go asleep. It was looking good as I approached aisle 19, one guy on the aisle and the middle seat open. It wasn’t until I reached my row that the middle seat was in fact not open, but occupied by a toddler. Someone kill me now. For the duration of the flight the kid alternated between crying, bouncing, kicking the seats all around or being punished by her short tempered father. Needless to say, I am looking forward to my bed and a few days off.

One more thing. For a brilliant account of the trials and tribulations of the Clinton Africa trip, please check out Anne Kornblut's article in today's Washington Post. You can access the article here.

4 events, 4 countries, 2 continents, 2 planes, 24 hours

It was still dark when we rolled out of the parking lot at Hotel Rwanda. Once again, the night didn’t yield enough sleep. I think it was the best night of the trip for me, a solid 5 hours on the stiff little twin bed.

When we arrived at the airport, the Ethiopian 767 that was sitting on the tarmac a day earlier had shrunk. Overnight, the plane was switched out with a 737. Despite leaving the hotel at around 4:30 in the morning, I think we went wheels up at around 7:00ish. We took on much of Bill’s secret service detail as well as a few others since Air Bon Jovi will only seat 28.

The leg to Monrovia, Liberia was nice and smooth. It’s always a little difficult to transfer over to a chartered commercial airline. The flight attendants are pretty strict about things like seat belts, electronics being on during takeoff and landing and gear being stowed. They’re pretty much by the book. When on a private charter, it’s a whole different ball game. For the most part, you can get away with anything. I’ve been transmitting pictures while drinking a beer as the plane lifts off praying that the image will drop into the ftp before we get out of range. Orange bowling is always popular, although I didn’t see any of that this trip. There was some aisle surfing though. The flight attendant on A.B.J. even asked if we wanted to smoke on the flight when we left from New York. Thankfully, nobody took her up on it.

Monrovia was gray and rainy when we arrived. The airport was overrun with all types of U.N. equipment. Helicopters, planes, personnel carriers, you name it. After years of conflict, the country was pulling itself back together, one small piece at a time. Bill would be touring examples of progress in the country, a hotel under construction and a women’s outdoor market. He would also be meeting with the president to announce a new program to offer cheap malaria drugs. As our U.N. led motorcade made its way towards Monrovia, we passed U.N. peacekeepers along the road with their bright blue helmets and various patterns of camouflage. There was also dozens of deteriorating billboards with public service messages about AIDS, malaria and rape. All with bizarre cartoon drawings of people having sex, families sleeping under mosquito netting alongside anti-rape no means no situations. There was also an abundance of gas stations. I wanted to stop the motorcade and indulge in some gas price features.

After touring the hotel and market, we went to an embassy for the meeting with Liberian President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf . The delegation and the press were treated to bag lunches with several choices of meat, including crab. I don’t think anyone wanted to risk that one. I had the cheese with a bag of Doritos poppy seed, grilled tomato and chili chips. I’m surprised there wasn’t any Pringles, the leading third world chip. There were several cans of Fanta Orange, the official third world soda.

Our time on the ground was short, a mere 6 hours before heading off to Dakar, Senegal. In route to Senegal, I sat next to James, a flight attendant from A.B.J.
I was asking him about some of the trips he had been on. He and the crew have been to virtually every country and have catered to some of the most esteemed people in the world. He told me a story about a princess from a mid-east country that was on her way to school in the States. Apparently, she really liked McDonald’s. Her handlers asked her what she wanted to eat on the plane and she told them that she wanted McDonald’s. The handlers took this request to the next level and purchased 10 of each item on the menu for her flight to the U.S. I guess she hasn’t seen Supersize Me. Along with the heavy load of fast food, she was also carrying nearly one million bucks in cash. She asked if she would have to declare it. Wonder how that worked out for her.

Dakar was one of the places where we would spend a couple of days and have several hours of downtime. That was until we got trapped in Newark, killing most of the cool stuff on our original itinerary. Like Liberia, our time was short, about 5 hours. It was much warmer here than the places we had been. Felt like Miami. Our one event was pretty dull. A press conference about AIDS medication offered at a reduced cost. An important issue, but incredibly boring. I was nodding off while standing.

We were scheduled to depart at around 10:00 pm. At 8:00 pm, a staffer said that we needed to rush back to the plane and depart immediately since the crew had started into their workday 2 hours prior and if we waited longer the would have to take downtime halfway which would make us late to Mexico. Advance staff rounded us up and got us loaded. We had a good 35 minutes to the airport and traffic was at a standstill. The driver of the mini-bus was slipped 50 bucks (three times the average monthly salary) and in Steve McQueen Bullit style, we cut through traffic. It was intense, but very exciting. There were several close calls, lots of honking and many shouts from the peanut gallery. I think there had to have been dozens of near misses as we lane split between the two ways of traffic, right down the middle of the street. Jay Carson remarked that the driver must have thought he was riding a motorcycle. Police could only watch as we blazed between cars. We made it to the plane in record time. Then we sat for close to an hour and a half. Glad we risked our lives.

The overnight flight to Mexico City was long. We now had a new plane, another plane previously used by Hillary during her campaign. It was a 757, a big plane. We had 26 people on board. Everyone had at least three or four rows to themselves. I had my first class seat, another first class seat to watch movies and row of three seats in the back to sleep. Was able to get about 5 hours of sleep and enjoyed several cocktails with Matt McKenna and Jon Davidson. It was a fun time.

Mexico City turned into yet another comedy of errors. We rerouted to another airport about an hour or so from M.C. to avoid the long delays with customs at the Mexico City airport. The Clinton staff had already obtained visas for us and several travelers had to go into the Mexican embassy in N.Y. prior to the trip to be photographed and fingerprinted. You would think that with all of this stuff done beforehand, we would have breezed through customs like we did in every other country. It took over two hours. It was now 8:00am. We had a 10:15am bag drop at the hotel where we would be “staying.” Our hotel was near the airport, just not near the airport we arrived. It was at the Mexico City airport. By time we got there, we had 40 minutes in our rooms.

Fatigue

Rwanda is an amazingly beautiful country. It is by far the cleanest developing country that I have ever been to. The streets in Kigali are spotless. You have to look really hard to see any signs of litter. The same goes for the rural areas. Someone said that a government imposed ban on plastic bags is a main factor for the cleanliness. There has to be more to it.

The day began early today. Another 3 hours of rest for me. We were loaded in the buses and headed to the airport to get on helicopters that would fly us out to a village where they grow cassava. The Rwandan Air Force transport helicopters fit in with all of our other aircraft on this trip, antiquated. Thankfully, the three Mi-8 Hip Helicopters made it through the day without malfunctions.

After flying over rolling hills dotted with small huts and farms that looked a patchwork quilt, we landed on a dirt soccer field in Rwinkwavu. At the edge of the field you could see people perectly lined up, fixated with the helicopters. There must have been 100 people just standing there and more were running down the dirt road. We drove in a van to the first event down a smooth brick red dirt road. As we drove along the road kicking up chalky red dust that clung to the roadside vegetation, kids ran from their homes to see a vanload of white people. Since we were ahead of the president, we had a chance to walk through one of the villages and talk to some of the villagers. It seemed like every resident was standing in front of their mud houses.

After Bill looked at a cassava field with a couple of farmers, we visited a rural healthcare clinic and then we flew over to another village while he dined with the president of Rwanda. We had box lunches.

When our helicopters took off, the same 100 people looked on. A group of about 15 kids had made their way to a closer vantage point, about 10 yards away. They ignored orders from a police officer to move back. When we lifted off, the rotor wash sandblasted the kids with red dusty dirt. They actually seemed to like it as they were blown around, some falling over, but still jumping up and down with excitement. A similar scene happened later in the day, but this time it was a group of singers. They didn’t seem as happy about it.

While Bill chowed down with the president, we sat in the bus for hours near the soccer field heliport. It was here that my fatigue started to show. I was attempting to get some work done and inadvertently erased one of my flash cards, one that had several images that I really liked. The photos of Chelsea getting her nose pinched by a little girl…gone. The kids getting sandblasted was also one for the memory. It was a nightmare. And once again, the day was turning south.

The bad news kept rolling in. Upon return to Kigali, we learned that our beloved Air Bon Jovi was being commandeered by Bill and friends and we would inherit their newly chartered Ethiopian Airlines 767, fully equipped with coach seating. I couldn’t help but think of the Seinfeld episode when George and Jerry were being flown to LA for a meeting in a small plane. George was mad about the size of the plane and said “I bet Ted Danson has a bigger plane then this!” Well, he certainly does.

Then it was time to go to the hotel, which wasn’t the same hotel as the night before since a last minute change has us staying here one more night. The room situation was bad. As a matter of fact, for a while there, we weren’t even sure that anyone would even have a room. Seems that while the advance team was hanging with us all day, important things like making sure rooms were being reserved and who would be staying where went unchecked.

We were all at the Novotel Hotel trying to figure out who was staying where. The front desk claimed they only had 10 rooms. We needed 18. While this mini crisis unfolded, David Braun of National Geographic and I looked on as one of the advance persons took the time to iron out her personal travel plans and another worked diligently to organize a tour of the Genocide Museum which would be closing in less than an hour. Meanwhile, we all waited. I stared out the fornt door and watched as dozens of couples had weddings in a grassy area in front of the hotel. I'm too tired to lift a camera.

When everyone finally got checked in, I learned that I could have been in my hotel much earlier since I wasn’t even staying at that hotel. I was instead at the Hotel Des Mille Collines, better known as Hotel Rwanda. In 1994, the hotel gave shelter to thousands during the Rwandan Genocide. I thought that it was going to be really cool to stay here, but I was very disappointed. Maybe I wasn’t being fair. Maybe had just reached the tipping point and exhaustion had taken over. But, when I think four star hotel, a twin bed and a plastic fan in the corner doesn’t come to mind.

My time at Hotel Rwanda will be short. Bag call is at 3:30am. Load and go is at 4am. Liberia, here we come.

Addis Ababa Yabba Dabba Doo

It was difficult to leave the Addis Sheraton after a 3 hour sleep. The hotel is pretty amazing. We were originally scheduled to stay there for two nights with a little bit of down time on the second day. It would have been fun to do a little exploring.

We were off to a village called Debre Zeit where bill would tour the Godino Health Center, one of the facilities that is funded by Bill’s foundation. The hour and a half drive in a tiny bus would take us through several villages and towns. The imagery was incredible. There were so many times that I wished I could have hopped off the bus and snapped photos of the great street scenes. The pungent smell of diesel accompanied us the entire way as buses and trucks belched black clouds. Most of the journey was on paved roads, but the last half an hour or so was on pot-hole ridden dirt paths. We all bounced around as we looked out at the farmers tilling rich soil using oxen and homemade plows. Washington Post reporter Anne Kornblut managed to sleep the whole time we navigated the rough road. We sat in amazement as remained asleep despite her head being whipped from side to side as we bounced along. She later told us that she can sleep anywhere.

The village was very cool. At least a thousand villagers came out to see Bill. Kids marched in big groups down the dirt road to a field where the president would speak. They carried Ethiopian flags and sang songs. It was incredible to see. All of the different faces were so amazing to look at. The women were stunningly beautiful. Several people wanted to take the cute kids home with them.

Bill arrived late, as he normally does, and toured the medical facility before speaking to a large crowd. It was set up like a campaign event, but didn’t play out like one. The president spoke in short sentences and his words were translated. The crowd politely applauded and waved their country’s flag after each line. There were a few nice moments for pictures. I was feeling like the trip had turned a corner and after all the delays we were finally rolling.

And then, the tide began to turn again.

We were all set to move with the motorcade to the airport. The large crowd had now left the field and had crowded behind the motorcade. The press and delegation quickly made their way to the vans for an immediate departure. We were taking on a few more people than we had arrived with so space was getting tight. The motorcade started to move…but we weren’t moving. The motorcade left, we were being held. Just our van, nobody else. The ABC crew had not made it to the van yet as they were trying to feed tape back to NY via their BGAN.

So, now we’re out of the motorcade, the dirt road is filled edge to edge with the villagers and we’re barely moving. The delay has set us back 30 minutes behind the rest of the group.

The ride is bumpy and hot. We have taken on more people in the tiny bus than when we traveled out to the village. It is really cramped. People are starting to feel car sick from the erratic driving and diesel fumes. I thought for sure Anne was going to barf on Jay Carson. If we would have been on the road 5 minutes more, I think she would have.

We finally get on our beloved Air Bon Jovi and go wheels up to Kigali, Rawanda where we would be taking helicopters to a coffee plantation. A short thirty minutes into the flight we got the news. We’re turning around and going back to Addis Ababa. The president’s Google 767 aborted a take off and was out of commission with engine trouble. Could it be possible? We all laughed it off as a joke. It wasn’t a joke.

Air Bon Jovi circled back to the airport where we would take on Bill, some of his staff and Secret Service detail. Ted Danson and the rest of the VIP folks were staying in Ethiopia. Now they can experience our Newark experience. Bill came back and held court on the 707. He was shown where Richie Sambora and Bon Jovi used to sit. Not sure he was impressed with that. Not even sure he knew who Richie Sambora was.

Arrival in Kigali wasn’t until after dark. The helicopter ride to the coffee plantation was canceled. Instead, Bill had dinner with the press which I didn’t go to in order to see my pal Jonathan. We ate dinner on the patio with some staffers and watched Bill hold court through the window.

May the plane gods be with us tomorrow.