Who's That Guy?
If y’all have been following along on my social media accounts, you know I had head shots made for the book jacket and book publicity stuff this week. It was the third try. The issue in the previous attempts had nothing to do with the photographer (Ameila Winchester Photography. Yes, she’s my daughter-in-law, but she’s a fantastic photographer whether I say so or not). Instead, it had everything to do with her subject matter.
Granted, my mug is not very photogenic to begin with. The problem, though, was inside my head, not the way it looked on the outside. Terri Lilly perfectly summed up what I was thinking after the second session when she asked me, “Can’t you do something to not look so old?”
There it is. Fake news. A left wing camera conspiracy. A right wing photography smear campaign. I look at my current picture and an exchange that’s become popular the last year or two plays in my mind:
“I barely know the guy.”
“But that’s you, right there in the picture.”
“I might’ve met him once at a party or something, but nope, don’t know him, that’s it.”
And to answer Terri’s question—no. As the line in the Chris Robinson song goes, I never learned how to wear my hair and I never learned how to dress. I have no sense of fashion. It’s not the kind of thing I’ve ever cared about one way or the other. And, fake news or not, the calendar says I ain’t as young as I once was.
I guess, in my mind, I expect the “me” in the current picture to look like the “me” in the picture above. I was probably 33 or 34 in that pic. In one aspect, it was a tough time in our lives. I was in school, working part time, we were broke, in debt, over-committed, constantly stressed and endlessly tired.
And it was one of the best times in our lives. We made some of our dearest friends during that time. Our camping gear stayed packed and we spent a lot of weekends around a campfire in the mountains, me reading my homework assignments—Flannery O’Connor or James Joyce or Faulkner—aloud to Terri. We had fun on less than a shoestring budget but had no idea how we’d make it from one month to the next most of the time (Peanut Butter and Dukes mayo sandwiches, lots and lots of PB & Dukes).
But I, we, you, all of us, could say the same thing about any number of times in our lives, couldn’t we? We move forward in shades of yin and yang, good and bad suspended in some weird balance. The best time of my life? I don’t know. Today. Every day and any day I keep my gratitude above my wants.
Anyway, pictures, right? I’m really pleased with this round, happy with everything about them. I’ve got several I can use. How did that happen? I changed what was inside my head—the only thing I could really change. I finally saw the truth in that old Rod Stewart cliché—every picture tells a story, don’t it? and relaxed. All that white in my beard and what’s left of my hair? All those wrinkles? The story of a life, good days and bad days, the road that brought me here in one digital image. And if you think about it—when we face the camera for the picture, we’re looking forward. We keep writing our stories and our stories leave their marks on us. Write on…
My novel, Sunflower Dog, releases April 7th, 2020. Sign up for my newsletter to get monthly updates about the book, appearances, and merch opportunities. It’s easy, just click here.