We all need a little help sometimes

My picture-taking venture last Sunday went well. So well, in fact, that I was actually reading the manual for our digital camera at work today before leaving to photograph a different client's event. (Reading the instructions? What is this strange concept of which you speak?) Figuring out how to make my pictures look better is certainly interesting, but those instruction manuals? Not so much with the clarity. I flipped to the index looking for Ass, My Pictures Look Like, but no such entry existed. Know-it-all Nikon bastards.

From the Hooray for Technological Advances file, let me just say boo-yah, thank God for digital. I took 38 pictures in our office alone while I tested various features on the camera and then deleted them without a second thought. With a camera that uses actual film, that would've amount to pulling all the film out of the canisters and then running up and down the street with pretty brown streamers flapping in the wind behind me. With enough skill, I could take that shiznit to the floor exercises portion of women's gymnastics at the Olympics. Never mind the fact that I tend to trip over my own feet.

I'm glad I'm learning about the camera and all its fancy workings because I'm tired of being terrified to go take pictures at client events. All it took was a little reading and a little practice and I left the office actually feeling a bit excited. Pictures! People! Lighting! Shutter priority! Awesome!

I was due to photograph the behind-the-scenes action at a food pantry. Due to privacy concerns, I wasn't allowed to photograph any of the clients at the warehouse, so I have LOTS of pictures of edibles stacked on carts and pallets. I can hear myself dictating a slideshow of pictures: "And here's another pallet of Ritz Crackers ... and another pallet ... and here's some bread... there's some cookies ... no, wait ... more crackers..."

Before heading inside, I gave myself a little talk in the car about remembering not to judge people, although it was a little difficult to avoid a WTF? moment when I saw a woman wheel a cart of groceries to her vehicle and turned off the car alarm before popping the trunk. We all need a little help sometimes, I reminded myself, and went inside.

I got a 45-minute tour of the facilities and a lot of pictures that turned out fairly well. Towards the end of my tour, a volunteer saw my camera and promptly struck a pose. I smiled and took his picture a couple times and prepared to walk on, as my tour guide was moving forward without me, but then the volunteer made a beeline for me.

"Hi! I'm Tony! Five years ago today, I was in the E.R. after a motorcycle accident. They told me when I woke up that I might have some brain damage. My name is Tony! You can put that with your picture."

Be nice. Breathe. We all need a little help sometimes.

I smiled, nodded, and made polite noises and then eased away as quickly as I could. As I moved down the corridor, I heard Tony say, "Five years ago today!" I'm sure it's a testament to doctors, faith, medicine, prayer -- whatever pulled Tony through -- but I couldn't help feeling a little sad that there was, indeed, lasting damage after Tony's accident. Of course, the victory is in the fact that he's out of the house and helping people instead of in a coma somewhere. Still.

I left the food pantry and headed for a second warehouse where household goods are stored. As I drove down the street, I wondered why I felt so uncomfortable. I checked the seatbelt and pulled at my collar, only to realize that I'd put my shirt on backwards this morning.

We all need a little help sometimes.