When I first started out as a photographer I worked mostly in a darkroom making prints for hours on end until the tips of my fingers started to get tingly from exposure to cancer-causing chemicals. One by one, I'd make test strips of different negatives, then wait for a few seconds while the paper bathed in the shallow cauldron of developer while I stood bathed in a faint red light. While people who shared the darkroom with me were making prints of trees, rusty fences and other impossibly boring objects, I impatiently aited for the soft curves of a female model to appear before my eyes. "It doesn't get any better than that," my photo teacher Mr. Milton said. He often leered at my prints just long enough for me to become uncomfortable, but ended up giving me an "a" in the class, so I suppose it was worth the weekly cringe.
It occurred to me after decades of schooling and schlepping bags for a handful of pompous fashion photographers, that I've just advanced past toll booth operator on life's totem pole when I accepted the position of senior editor for super street. My first goal after accepting Jonathan's sloppy seconds was bringing a fresh perspective to how the import scene is viewed. Frankly, it should be an easy task because of my complete ignorance to things automotive. there's a saying that describes a job being so easy, a monkey could do it, and this is proof. My first official assignment was to shoot this month's fashion guide with lisa Fleming as she took Dai Yoshihara and RJ DeVera on shopping excursion. I fudged my way through the whole shoot by yelling at them so loudly that everyone assumed I was in charge and that I knew what to do. Nobody even noticed I was using one of those disposable cameras. lucky for you, I edited out all the shots of the inside of my pant pockets from when the camera would click every time I sat down. Oddly enough, I caught Jonathan zoned out with the kind of oozing grin one gets when they catch a celebrity nipple slip for first time, photos from the shoot in-hand, when he said, "It doesn't get any better than that." *cringe*