Tournament Notes, Friday

We're in Chattanooga right now for the basketball tournament. I've been shooting and editing and corralling the wild one (that is Pooks, not DJ). And eating. Yeesh, when we came to this thing in our younger days, the focus was on drinking, but it had shifted over the past few years to food. Case in point: instead of going out partying tonight, KBG and I ate dinner, went to the hot tub, and then instead of calling it a night like we should have, went to Ben & Jerry's.
(Note: I'm appalled to learn just how unhealthy the vanilla fudge chunk stuff is. It said NO SUGAR! If I'd known how many calories were in there, I would have gotten the Phish Food I wanted in the first place.)

The hotel is nice, and there is a jacuzzi in our room. Note I said "In our room," not "in the bathroom." It's right in the middle of everything, I suppose for romantic getaway weekends and such. Well, the hell with that. It's much bigger than the pack -n- play we'd brought for Pookie to sleep in, so we lined it with padding and blankets and made a little toddler nest. Then today after we went to the pool I filled it up with water and she had her own little personal sized-pool, complete with bubbles. I had no idea how versatile having a giant bathtub in one's primary living space could be. (Also, that ice bucket they provide to chill your champagne? Yeah, it works great to rinse shampoo out of a kid's hair)

The days of using it as a bed are numbered, because she's figured out how to use the faucets and is really big into hand-washing these days. There's a rude 3am awakening for you.

A few notes on the tournament thus far: we won our game today, so that means we play tomorrow (and kind of justifies the long drive), and it means that I am shooting with a lot of other photographers. All of whom are male and, as far as I can tell, complete tools. I don't know who the guy today was shooting for, but he was about a 9 on  "douchebag attitude-slinging photographers" scale. He had 2 Mark IIIs ($7000 each, for those of you keeping score at home), and yet somehow couldn't manage to scrounge up 99 cents to buy a bottle of Suave at Dollar General for his greasy-ass hair. This guy looked at me as I sat down, glanced down at my gear, and rolled his eyes. (For all you non-photogs out there, my equipment isn't the greatest in the world, but is decidedly standard, and not embarrassing. For further clarification, I'm talking about cameras, not boobs.)

Most photographers have a certain degree of arrogant standoffishness about them because, as with any art form, there is quite a bit of subjectivity. But there is also much technical prowess involved, and when the art snobs and the tech snobs are the same people, it's can turn into the perfect storm of douchebaggery. He (or occasionally she) with the most bluster must be the best of the best, right?
I largely ignore them. Perhaps I come across as being aloof myself, but I just don't particularly want to get involved, ever, in the sports shooter gear-shots-why-I'm awesomer-than-you pissing-contests.
I'll also just throw in that it's my theory that the more, faster, bigger gear a photographer has, the less, slower, smaller gear a photographer has. And for that one guy who brought the 400mm f/2.8 (also $7000) to the basketball game today, sorry dude. I'd feel sorrier for your personal shortcomings if you weren't such a turd.  

*Note: we played  a team today that fans of the team I shoot for HATE. I also generally dislike them, because their fans are rude and nasty. This includes their band - a piccolo-playing marcher once slung the C-word at me - who the hell taunts a photographer? Really? Anyway, I was sitting in front of their band today, fearing the worst.
But most of their taunts were good-natured ("Kick his ass, Seabass!"), and at one point a ball came flying at me with remendous speed and I managed to deflect it before I was struck point-blank. They cheered for me and asked if I wanted to join the team.
Then later, they played Thriller and The Hand That Feeds. Many points to them.

Comments

[Old Gray Mare]

Sounds like a blast! Wish I was there too. Couldn't care less about the basketball but I'd have fun with Pooks.

[Uncle Michael]

Stick to your guns, dear one. I once pulled up beside a guy in a Porsche convertable sports car who looked at my old Chevy Blazer, which was brand new at the time, like it was a piece of trash. Boy was he surprised when he looked up to see me in my clerical collar saying out of my open window. "Sorry about your dick, man. Blessings on your shortcomings." Uncle Michael+

[jane]

"But there is also much technical prowess involved, and when the art snobs and the tech snobs are the same people, it's can turn into the perfect storm of douchebaggery."

This has been my biggest problem with the photography community. I am not a professional and do not claim to be but the assumption that I am somehow pathetic, unworthy, stupid, or untalented because I use a mid-range Olympus is, at best, ridiculous. I have gotten to the point that I hate the in-person, "What camera do you have?" question because my answer is never the right one and that must be telegraphed to me by the questioner and then I must be dismissed as inferior.

Gah. Sorry.

[gnumoon]

Jane -
It's all attitude. A lot of those people who will judge based on such things have sad little lives that are somehow justified by expensive gear. They aren't really happy, and most of them aren't really good either.

Sorry you feel that way, though. As a very wise person once told me, "Don't let the bastards get you down."