Monday, October 12, 2009
The Family Photo
About four weeks ago my Mother announced that we would spend the last weekend of the summer coming up with and shooting photos for a new family portrait. Awesome. Upon hearing this wonderful news my blood seemed to run ice cold and I wondered if this was what it felt like to be my sister when she verbally tears apart my outfits. A family photo... "Haven't you seen that episode of Everybody Loves Raymond?" I asked my mother "It was horrifying!" But rather then reaffirming my worst fear and inching closer to a likeness of Marie Barone, she actually made the whole portrait experience pretty cool....
The first sign that things were going to be ok, was when she saw the examples I emailed to her of my ideas for a family photo (a smattering of the most ridicules family photos available on the inter-web) and she didn't snap. Score one for Rob.
She also wanted me to come up with ideas for props... "Props?" I asked... Apparently since 1998 when we took our last family photo it had become a requirement to have "props" when ever serious photos of humans are being taken. Not having any clue what made for good props, I suggested I could bring my old cameras..... "Oh that would be perfect!" she said with a quick girl clap. Score two.
A couple of days later I was on my way to dinner with my friend when she called and asked me to come to Kohls right away. I knew better then to question her about a cloths emergency and I was near by anyway, so I detoured my way there. When I found her and my sister in the Mens section, she smiled and held up four shirts. Apparently I was supposed to chose one. One was shiny and looked a little too... smooth. Another was black with some sort of big dragon across the shoulder and swirly designs all over it. It looked like something that would be worn to a medieval rave. Pass. Another shirt was identical to a blue one I had in my closet, but I silently skipped it because I didn't want to see my sister doubt that I could have as good of taste as she did. The last was a sensible purple polo shirt. I was pleasantly surprised. The color was a little... purple, but it was definitely a fair option. So for the next decade until we take our next family photo I would be seen in a purple polo... that seemed safe enough. Just as I was ready to turn and walk away with the swagger of a man that had just dodged a bullet, my sister said "Oh, and we want you to wear this!" I turned to see her holding a gray scarf... "but it's 90 degrees outside and..." Then upon seeing her 'death face' I took the scarf and said "yeah, that's a great idea!" Score one for Anna.
On D-day, no one was stressed, the weather was fantastic and I even looked forward to wearing the shirt my mother bought for me. So far, so good. Then we went to the designated photo spot, set up our props and my brother and brother in law started clicking away photos as if they were in a race to see who could wear out their battery the fastest.
After a bunch of photos of my parents hugging, kissing and sitting together in an orange 70's love seat with a globe next to them on a table and then repeating the same formula for my sister and brother in law, it was my turn to be in the spotlight. For some reason I'm more uncomfortable with only six sets of eyes on me then I am with hundreds. It's to intimate or something. So, my turn went quickly. After me it was my brothers turn and then my foster sisters. Before I knew it, it was time for the big moment: the all important family photo. I was surprised at how simple we decided to keep it. Little did I know, when you have six people in the photo it means props aren't necessary. All we really did was sit on a big long bench, talked amongst our selves and let my foster sister click away. Then it was over. How did that happen?
After the photo shoot we went to the Blue Plate for lunch and then went to my parent's place to play games for the rest of the evening. It had been a great day and I couldn't believe it. A family portrait day that ended up being one for the record books? Who knows how that happened. For what ever reason those pesky family portrait god's weren't up to their normal tricks that Saturday. Or maybe they just knew better then to mess with my Mother...
The first sign that things were going to be ok, was when she saw the examples I emailed to her of my ideas for a family photo (a smattering of the most ridicules family photos available on the inter-web) and she didn't snap. Score one for Rob.
She also wanted me to come up with ideas for props... "Props?" I asked... Apparently since 1998 when we took our last family photo it had become a requirement to have "props" when ever serious photos of humans are being taken. Not having any clue what made for good props, I suggested I could bring my old cameras..... "Oh that would be perfect!" she said with a quick girl clap. Score two.
A couple of days later I was on my way to dinner with my friend when she called and asked me to come to Kohls right away. I knew better then to question her about a cloths emergency and I was near by anyway, so I detoured my way there. When I found her and my sister in the Mens section, she smiled and held up four shirts. Apparently I was supposed to chose one. One was shiny and looked a little too... smooth. Another was black with some sort of big dragon across the shoulder and swirly designs all over it. It looked like something that would be worn to a medieval rave. Pass. Another shirt was identical to a blue one I had in my closet, but I silently skipped it because I didn't want to see my sister doubt that I could have as good of taste as she did. The last was a sensible purple polo shirt. I was pleasantly surprised. The color was a little... purple, but it was definitely a fair option. So for the next decade until we take our next family photo I would be seen in a purple polo... that seemed safe enough. Just as I was ready to turn and walk away with the swagger of a man that had just dodged a bullet, my sister said "Oh, and we want you to wear this!" I turned to see her holding a gray scarf... "but it's 90 degrees outside and..." Then upon seeing her 'death face' I took the scarf and said "yeah, that's a great idea!" Score one for Anna.
On D-day, no one was stressed, the weather was fantastic and I even looked forward to wearing the shirt my mother bought for me. So far, so good. Then we went to the designated photo spot, set up our props and my brother and brother in law started clicking away photos as if they were in a race to see who could wear out their battery the fastest.
After a bunch of photos of my parents hugging, kissing and sitting together in an orange 70's love seat with a globe next to them on a table and then repeating the same formula for my sister and brother in law, it was my turn to be in the spotlight. For some reason I'm more uncomfortable with only six sets of eyes on me then I am with hundreds. It's to intimate or something. So, my turn went quickly. After me it was my brothers turn and then my foster sisters. Before I knew it, it was time for the big moment: the all important family photo. I was surprised at how simple we decided to keep it. Little did I know, when you have six people in the photo it means props aren't necessary. All we really did was sit on a big long bench, talked amongst our selves and let my foster sister click away. Then it was over. How did that happen?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
