Always on Duty

This is two extracts in one: a pressboard totem pole sign is juxtaposed against a Coca-Cole machine next door to our Rolla, Missouri motel.
This is two extracts in one: a pressboard totem pole sign is juxtaposed against a Coca-Cole machine next door to our Rolla, Missouri motel.
Abby holds her new puppy at the farm where she bought him. The road trip, to Rolla, Missouri, as always, was an opportunity to make pictures.
Abby holds her new puppy at the farm where she bought him. The road trip, to Rolla, Missouri, as always, was an opportunity to make pictures.

Years ago I was on the sideline at a Stratford, Oklahoma football game with a photographer buddy of mine, Matthew White. Despite the fact that he was just tagging along and wasn’t shooting the game for any agency or even for himself, he couldn’t help himself, and shot it just as thought it was his job.

I turned to him and said, “You can’t turn it off, can you?” I knew he couldn’t because I can’t. No photographer can. It’s not just what we do when we’re clocked in or on a job, it’s who we are.

The closed and dilapidated Totem Pole gift shop featured these handsome fuel pump globes, tributes to the history of Route 66.
The closed and dilapidated Totem Pole gift shop featured these handsome fuel pump globes, tributes to the history of Route 66.
The way the roads are cut into the hillsides in southern Missouri reminds me of my childhood when we lived in places like Independence and Manchester, or when we visited my mom's home to, Flat River. We don't see this kind of roadcuts in Oklahoma.
The way the roads are cut into the hillsides in southern Missouri reminds me of my childhood when we lived in places like Independence and Manchester, or when we visited my mom’s home to, Flat River. We don’t see this kind of roadcuts in Oklahoma.

No one, I think, knows this better than Robert, who has a full-time non-photography job, yet remains a photographer every minute of the day. It shows in his work, which I was showing my wife Abby the other day to a constant litany of “wow” and “that’s incredible” and “these are amazing.”

I thought of this when Abby and I recently travelled to Rolla, Missouri, to buy a new puppy. I wasn’t supposed to be a photographer on this overnight trip, but of course, I couldn’t turn it off. In spite of being the puppy chauffeur, I also took great interest in things like the silhouettes of the state of Will Rogers on the turnpike, the dilapidated Totem Pole gift shop next to our motel, and, of course, photographing the new dog.

Abby and I had breakfast at Waffle House, which brought back memories for both of us. I think most readers can relate to an image like this.
Abby and I had breakfast at Waffle House, which brought back memories for both of us. I think most readers can relate to an image like this.

It is this willingness to be the photographer all the time that sets us apart from the incessant visual chatter of the 10,000-selfies crowd. Instead of “hey, how about a picture?” we are always looking at the light, the textures, the lines, and the shadows, to try to decide how to express something.

That’s the key thought of this post, I believe: the selfie makers are trying to impress someone, and the photographers are trying to express something.

This view looks west from the restaurant over Interstate 44 in northeast Oklahoma. At one time, it housed the world's largest McDonald's restaurant, but it has since been more practically commercialized. My sister and I were fascinated by this view when we were kids.
This view looks west from the restaurant over Interstate 44 in northeast Oklahoma. At one time, it housed the world’s largest McDonald’s restaurant, but it has since been more practically commercialized. My sister and I were fascinated by this view when we were kids.
Abby rides the glass elevator at the restaurant over Interstate 44. I happen to think an image like this is ten times better than a "selfie" in the same spot.
Abby rides the glass elevator at the restaurant over Interstate 44. I happen to think an image like this is ten times better than a “selfie” in the same spot.
Looking the other way is this statue of Will Rogers, after whom the turnpike below is named. In the 1970s when we stopped here, the large windows had huge vertical blinds to keep out blinding sunrises and sunsets. There now have retractable vertical curtains.
Looking the other way is this statue of Will Rogers, after whom the turnpike below is named. In the 1970s when we stopped here, the large windows had huge vertical blinds to keep out blinding sunrises and sunsets. There now have retractable vertical curtains.
On the way home from Rolla, we passed under the restaurant over Interstate 44, and I made a point to have a camera ready to shoot it. Thought not a particularly spectacular image, it does give the viewer some perspective on how this features looks from the outside.
On the way home from Rolla, we passed under the restaurant over Interstate 44, and I made a point to have a camera ready to shoot it. Thought not a particularly spectacular image, it does give the viewer some perspective on how this features looks from the outside.

4 Comments

  1. I love the Waffle House photo. That’s Americana right there. I’m wondering what you used to make that image.

    Do you video all your trips using a dash-mounted GoPro-type camera?

    Nice juxtaposition of foreground and background, and a trained eye obviously recognized the possibilities there.

    I agree 100 percent with your “key thought,” and would only add that an iPhone in every hand automatically makes everybody a photographer – whether they are one or not.

  2. After going back and looking at it again, the quality of the light and focus and the sheer amount of detail, that Waffle House image might be one of my favorites of yours.

  3. You know, I’d forgotten all about that restaurant.

    Tracey was fascinated by the road cuts during our Thanksgiving trip. Wanted to know all about how they were made. To me they scream “you’re in Missouri”.

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