Ok, here’s our award winner for this week. A woman visiting a zoo in Arizona was tempted to take perhaps the ultimate selfie when she reached into an enclosure housing a jaguar. The big cat attacked her, holding her hostage until a thoughtful bystander hit the jaguar with, of all things, a water bottle. This apparently sufficiently startled the cat that it let go of the photographer. Perhaps the jaguar wanted to see if it was good likeness.
In a gratifying follow-up, some guy captured it all on video (before he went to her assistance), so the magical moment is preserved for all eternity. I’m not exactly which part is a clearer indicator of low blood flow to the brain – trying to take a close-up with a mature, highly dangerous feline, or watching it unfold as you get it all on film. I know, I know. You’re all thinking that the zoo was remiss in not training its wild animals to smile pleasantly for the camera. Zoo staff was asked if the animal would be put down after this alarming incident. They responded that, no, the jaguar was just following its natural instincts. The lady was, to all outward appearances, a tasty-looking between meal snack. That sounds reasonable.
This brings up the point that perhaps we’re becoming just a bit over-the-top on photographs in general and photos of ourselves in particular. Technology has helped us replace those monster video cameras that folks lugged on their shoulders all over Disney World. Hence, we can record everything, not just Country Bears Jamboree or the Teacups. People are falling off cliffs or going overboard on cruise ships taking selfies. Granted, until the phone smashed off the bottom of the Grand Canyon, the photo of the deceased was truly magnificent. And without doubt, had the jaguar been just a bit more patient, it would have been part of one of the all-time great selfies. As it now stands, it’s fully worthy of a New Yorker cartoon. It seems, though, that it’s not enough to have photos to preserve memories of important moments or locations in our lives. We’ve become so self-absorbed that we now need to be in the snapshots to remind us that we were there. Isn’t that an obvious conclusion? Isn’t “we spent the day at the zoo – here’s a shot of a jaguar” enough? No, no. “Here’s me standing next to a jaguar just before it lunged and tore my arm off” is the real headline here, followed up in the travelogue sequence by “here I am being wheeled into Intensive Care.” What does this say about us as people? Our images must be everywhere so we can prove to the world that we live large and do impressive things. It isn’t enough that we eat out, we have to take pictures of the entrée and the dessert to “share” with everyone we know. I’ll take your word for it – lunch was nice.
We’re seeing way more than we were ever intended to see. Every shooting, traffic stop, car sliding on a slippery road, or heated discussion in the produce aisle is recorded for posterity. Not only is it captured by some eager videographer, the cycle isn’t complete until it’s uploaded to the internet and viewed by thousands. (Of course, it too speaks volumes about the attention spans of those thousands.) That should be a tag line for all of those looking for vacation homes on House Hunters. “I need a deck overlooking the ocean where I can kick back and watch inane videos on my phone.” Is this really why Al Gore even invented the internet? I thought it was for my emails and my wife’s shopping. Last night’s news featured a passenger’s video of a plane hitting turbulence. Was that really their first impulse? “Would you mind securing my children? I need to record this.” I’m a nervous flier as it is. I don’t need to see people and carry-on luggage flying about the cabin. Of course, those most seriously hurt were those that ignored the “buckle seatbelt” signs and chose that moment to stretch after a long flight. They’re in that special category with Jaguar Lady.
I just want to be on record as saying that I use the camera feature on my phone to photograph my gardens (and frequently my feet). It’s safe, I’m not likely to fall into a canyon, or be mauled by a rogue chipmunk. Besides, I’m way bigger than the chipmunk. My pictures are tasteful, carefully considered, and best of all, I’m not in them. That’s the way it should be. We have a couple of friends that over the years have traveled extensively. One in particular takes a few thousand on each trip, and amazingly, she’s in three quarters of them. I don’t want to see her hair blowing across Stonehenge or the Cliffs of Dover. There’s a whole “I’m at the Eiffel Tower – look how nice my new jacket looks against the wrought iron” vibe at work here. So, here are a couple of general guidelines for amateur photographers to keep in mind:
1) None of us wants to see a dinner plate unless it’s right in front of us and we can take a bite. This goes double for desserts or anything with chocolate and whipped cream.
2) If you’re at the edge of a steep decline or drop-off, I really hope you can sprout wings and fly. Trying to “sticking the landing” may be the last thing you do.
3) If you’re standing in front of a national monument or an architectural treasure, you can’t compete. Get out of the way.
4) Large, wild animals may exhibit bursts of unfriendliness. It’s in their DNA. Don’t cuddle with them and expect a keepsake photo.
5) Remember that about 90 percent of the pictures you take will either be stored in the attic (to be thrown away years later by your offspring), will get stuck together in a box in the basement, or will be deleted within three years when you can’t remember where you were.
I'm Thinking...No! 