It was a gorgeous day here. Highs in the 70s, low humidity - not typical for the south in September. I was itching to get outside so I picked up the camera and I headed to a nearby park over lunch. It's a pretty park - sunk down low from the street. You feel so removed from the rush of the everything. I easily fired off 100 shots of the playground equipment and the interesting rock structures.
Then the atmosphere changed. The children from a nearby school spilled into the park. Recess time! And I thought, "Awesome! I can get some action shots. I want to practice panning the camera and this will be great!" As I stood, snapping photos, shooting with a 300mm lens, most the kids didn't even notice me. This was GREAT!
What I didn't realize was how nervous I was making the teachers. As I moved past them, I stopped to chat briefly. I was asked, "What are you taking photos for?" And I said, "Photography is just my hobby." "You aren't with the paper?" "No. It's a hobby." "You aren't with the school system?" "No, it's just a hobby." "Do you teach photography?" I chuckled at this one. "No, it's just a hobby." A battery of questions - with the same response. I was getting irritated and for no reason at all was starting to feel uncomfortable.
When I turned to continue on my way, I couldn't help but think, "What has this country come to? When someone with a camera (a CAMERA for Pete's sake) can be thought of as "suspicious."
The teachers, however, may want to divert their attention to the drug dealer hiding in the shadows of the park. You know... to question his hobbies.
Then further on down the road, there was this trailer. Initially, the custom paint job is what caught my eye and ALL that type. I deal with too much copy on a daily basis so I could relate to the custom paint shop's pains. It was very detailed...er except for that little typo. Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who makes spelling mistakes.
