I Must Admit
Sunday. OK, up after a reasonable night's sleep, the first night in this industrial size motel, put the cameras together with the proper lenses and the like, why didn't I bring the 17-55 f 2.8 for the DX2? Hell, I brought every other damned thing on the planet. Get to the groom’s room directly below mine by eleven, shoot pictures of the groom, best man and groomsmen getting into their tuxedos using available light. Once we're done, over to “The Barn” for candids while the real photographer took bride and groom together photos (with a portable studio light/umbrella kit), she using Canon equipment. Some candids as the various people putting the wedding together did their thing: the groom waiting, the arrival of the bride, people putting up tables, delivering flowers. One of the workers there suggested I check my images carefully in the area of the barn where the dancing was to be held later in the evening for ghosts. The Barn was haunted. Indeed. I myself am a bit haunted after a beverage or two.
A simple enough drive then to the church for the wedding in downtown Seattle, plenty of parking under the church, the wedding lasting a little over an hour, back to the Barn for dinner and dancing. My, my, but was I tired. My, my, but did I have little hope for the pictures I was taking (the D3 acting up just enough to put me on edge - it goes to Nikon overnight when I get back to Oakland). What the hell, I'm an old coot who's been driving many hours than a day should allow, plenty of excuses. Still, one does not wish to disappoint. Maybe I don't need to do any more weddings. When I'm hot and they work, they really work; but when I'm not, well, I get grouchy.
Bitch, moan, bitch moan.
Well, hell: most of the pictures were in focus, many of the faces recognizable and the bride was beautiful. Take care of the bride and your wedding is a breeze, Mr. Photographer, although I must admit in a past year, after looking through his own images, I had a groom grumble.
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