Photo Day

Getting pictures done at studio. Don't know what's worse, this or death. 

That was the text I sent to a friend as me, Wife, and the Kicker sat waiting to be called for our time slot at the picture studio. The comparison to death was simply an exaggeration. It may border on being tasteless, but in an emotionally charged comment to a friend, it conveyed the point. After I sent that text, I stuffed my phone away, not to look at it again until after we left the photo studio.

(This pic will make sense later.)

I didn't even have a choice of what to wear. It was a small knock to my 26yr old pride being told how to dress. Admittedly, it was nice not having to stare at my closet for 15 minutes expecting the correct clothes to jump out at me like I do every morning. 

The problem I have of getting pictures by a professional in a studio dates back to my senior year of high school. The rules of high school dictates that all seniors have to get these pictures done their last year. That's fine. Except my pictures were all awkward and unnatural poses. I look back at those pics now and don't remember the final year of high school, just my distaste for someone who tells me how to position my limbs so that it's uncomfortable and painful. From that moment I knew I was the opposite of photogenic, and the goofy poses just make it worse. 

It's been 9 years since that day. But some things never change. The photographer began, "Ok dad, lets start with you." Don't mind if I do. He had me stand in the middle of the background, and began his description of my pose...

"I'm gonna have you sit here on the ground with your right leg bent and your left leg over top...no...other leg...just switch it around. There you go. Now pull your leg back a little bit...too far...perfect...and now your left leg will bend and the foot will rest right next to your right knee. No. No. Yes. Good. Don't move that. Now put your right arm back for support. Point your hand the other way. Nice. And move your other arm up. It doesn't look good....Perfect."

I'm sure that description was impossible to follow. It was for me too. To put it simply, I resembled Adam from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Here's a depiction...

I don't often hold conversations, or casually recline, or sit around the house in that pose. It felt weird and uncomfortable. And now my future grandchildren are going to think of their great-grandpa as a man who sat uncomfortably. 

If moving me into awkward poses wasn't enough, the photographer had the nerve to do that to my child. I dealt with the cream white beanbag chair he propped the Kicker on. I could even manage to get over the shirtless pose he did on silk covers and clouded background that made him look like a cherub. But I drew the line at the pose on his side with his legs out that made him looked like a beached merman. Too far. 


They sat us down to look at all the pictures. We all weeded through which ones were good, no good, and maybes. The photo man soon stopped after we looked through and said, "OK, 15 poses for $269...ready to checkout?"  Not so fast. I can get four seats behind home plate for cheaper than that and believe me, that's where I'd rather spend 269 bucks. Lets keep talking. 


We settled on our packages, then waited around for all the pics to be printed. They look great though - at least 2/3 of them look great. My wife and baby look excellent, but I tend to be the picture sabotage. Not on purpose. Just not photogenic. 


On the way out, I got a text back from my buddy from before. He said, You lose. Between not picking my clothes, posing like a nude painting, and spending triple digits on pictures, it does seem that way. But this is a pretty good looking combination.

Win.