The story behind "the picture"

A few weeks ago, I had some pictures taken because I’m serving on the Board of Directors for my local professional association. For most people, the experience would be unremarkable, but I’ve found myself laughing quite a bit over the details and suspect I’ve created most of my own fun.

The pictures were being taken in the evening, immediately after a networking event for the association, followed by a board meeting, creating the concern of not knowing how to dress for the occasion. We’re not an overly formal group, but we’re not super casual either, so I was really only able to rule out tuxedos and coveralls. Terribly unsure of myself, I settled on a dress shirt and pants and a jacket as my outfit.

Within minutes of arriving at the venue, I realized that “layers” had been a huge mistake and I was seriously overheating. Worse yet, I had missed the four second window where removing the jacket without causing further embarrassment was still an option. This was quite troubling as I still had a couple of hours of talking to strangers to put in before pictures; this realization alone seeming to send the temperature in the room even higher.

Several conversations followed with people who must only remember me as some variation of “the guy who got really hot,” before it was finally time to take my shattered pride and slink outside for some air.

Luckily, the pictures were being taken outside so I could cool down for a while. I hoped that the fresh evening air would erase whatever mess the inside had made of me to that point, but I was doubtful.

The photographer didn’t know our names and resorted to ordering us into our positions by pointing and saying things like, “You, with the white dress, come down here.” If he had turned to me and said, “You, sweaty guy, stand with your hands in your pockets...my God, what’s wrong with you?” I would not have been surprised.

After the group shots, we took our turns to have our individual pictures taken. I was one of the last people to go and the photographer seemed deeply troubled that the natural light had changed so significantly since the first pictures were taken. He excitedly showed me the difference on his camera about 20 times, but I’m unsure why he did so since there was nothing I could do to change the situation and a total blackout would have suited me just fine.

The rest of the evening was uneventful and we went our separate ways to await the finished product.

About a week ago, I was sent an electronic version of the picture they planned to use for me in the newsletter. The photographer had skilfully masked my glistening, but somehow missed the fact that I looked positively demented.

So, I asked if there were other options to consider and received about seven or eight of the other shots. In many of them, I’m obviously trying so hard not to blink that my eyes could be confused for “The Cookie Monster’s.” There were several shots taken from underneath my chin and I can neither remember the photographer lunging to the ground to take these nor do I enjoy the double chin effect this angle created.

I’m a fan of the crossed arm look, but here too, I had found a way to make this look dorky.

After careful consideration, I found one that seemed better than the others and submitted my selection.

I was told by one of my fellow board members that Mariah Carey takes less time to decide on an album cover. I’m not sure you’re ever really prepared to be compared to Mariah Carey, but I thought it most appropriate to laugh at myself.

Once again.