It’s happened again. A sign of the times. We not only want pictures of things we’re seeing and doing, but we feel compelled to insert ourselves into those pictures too. “See? I was there – next to that huge alligator. That’s my arm inside its mouth. Isn’t that great?” No, you idiot. Unless you’ve always dreamed of living with the nickname, “stumpy”. Equally brainless are those parents that put young children on a railing next to a wild animal cage. From time to time, the children fall into the enclosure, and we end up reading about the tragic consequences, or worse, watching it unfold on YouTube.
Well, an ill-conceived selfie has happened again. A newspaper article late last week carries an account of a young man, aged 22, in Arizona who needed to get just that extra bit closer to the edge of a cliff so he could capture his image against a backdrop of city lights. Presumably it was dark and, you too can see where this is going – he lost his footing, fell off the edge, and plummeted to his death. Tragic, yes indeed. One feels so sorry for his friends and family. And yet . . . . . . .
Most of us fairly rational folks can ask ourselves, is this really worth the picture? And that rational part of our brain responds, “no, for heaven’s sake, don’t do it”. But some people, particularly young adults, haven’t fully developed those powers of judgement. They still think it’s “way cool” to see themselves with exotic backdrops. I think of the report of a woman at the zoo who got up close to the cage housing gorilla to snap a selfie. Apparently, she forgot that the gorilla have arms and could reach through the bars. That didn’t end well. Nor did the woman on safari who spied a group (or is it “pride”?) of lions, got out of the safety of her vehicle in a misguided attempt to get an up-and-close view of herself with them. Again, you can see where this is going. A lion charged and she just barely got back into the vehicle. Thank goodness there was someone in the following caravan to capture the magic of that moment on video. It got quite a few hits on social media from thrill-seekers with equally poor judgement. Or the picture of one of those fun-loving Trump boys holding up an endangered species he’d just shot in Mongolia. Again, inhibition just isn’t their “thing”.
So, how often does this happen, you ask? More frequently than we might think. There were 379 recorded “death by selfie” occurrences last year. Surprisingly, India tops the list of countries where it happens, although I suspect that a fair number of them are tourists. The US and Russia are next in order, which suggests again what we all know – Americans and surprisingly the Russians too are overly obsessed with seeing themselves. I have to say that, having seen my image staring back at me from time to time, it’s not something I like to see. Some do, though. Our friend, Lady Peacock, is one of those. As she admitted in a visit a while back, she has literally thousands of pictures on her phone, and the vast majority have her in them. She speculated that, “I probably should edit those.” You think? Presumably thousands of strangers have been pressed into service taking her pictures for her, often with the resulting commentary, “I don’t like my hair in this one.” Yes, Windsor Castle is impressive, but sadly marred by Lady P’s hair blowing across her face. She’s also big on “food selfies”, which include a sandwich from all sides, or dessert which is “one of the best I’ve ever eaten”. Someday, someone needs to explain to me the power of the “food selfie.” It’s a sandwich, for God’s sake. Eat it and let it go. No, we have to take pictures of burgers and fries with ourselves grinning giddily at table level. Lady P is, invariably, standing next to the table in full view. In a side note: it’s one of the amazingly few food items that hasn’t been sent back to the kitchen for an overhaul. When we broke for lunch on opening day of the most recent viewing, I commented that it would be nice to see her pictures of London next. “Oh no,” says she. “That’s just the first two days in Paris.” As I may have mentioned, on one of her trips to England, Canterbury Cathedral was shrouded in scaffolding for exterior repairs, but Lady P. was fortunately able to get some spectacular shots of herself in front of the platforms.
About the only selfies I’ve been in were by student request. Band members would ask for pictures at a football game or parade, or on a band trip someplace I’d see them once and then, mercifully, never again. Occasionally, we’d have a group picture, so I could hide in the back or off to the side. When we travelled as a family, we’d take one or two of us, but mostly of items of interest. Herself was seldom in them because she was usually taking the picture. We weren’t big on handing our cameras or phones to strangers. I remember that memorable scene in National Lampoon’s European Vacation, when the volunteer photographer runs off with the camera. We’d probably have had that happen to us, with photos showing up later in unflattering settings on the internet.
In the presidential campaign of 2020, I had opportunities to attend a couple of events. Senator Elizabeth Warren had a habit of staying and letting anyone that wanted take a snapshot with her. It was a warm and generous gesture, presumably not because she wanted her image on millions of cellphones but rather, as a public figure, it was a treat for her followers. Other candidates followed suit, which is fine. We’ve seen so many informal pictures of President Biden in the same settings. There is no vanity in that. For those average people who just like to look at themselves over and over and over, however, it says something about their character.
I think for those folks of the past who had their portraits painted and hung over the fireplace in the Manor House, did so in a sincere desire to preserve their family’s history. The Fourteenth Earl, Sir Winnebago, who travelled in style during the Hundred Years War, hung proudly in his place between the thirteenth Earl, Headless Humphrey, who sadly chose the wrong side in an uprising, and the fifteenth Earl, Lord Macadamia, who restored the family fortunes through imports and bought his way back into favor with the Crown. Their spouses, of course, hung in the Portrait Gallery, in various stages of attractiveness, but primarily to show off their jewelry. That exquisite diamond tiara and matching dangly earrings were sold off to pay the death taxes two centuries later, so the portrait is merely a record for the insurance company. But I doubt that many of these people stood for hours in front of their own portraits. Royalty, of course, had to have their pictures painted regularly and passed about so their subjects would know who occupied the throne at any given time. Some of the royal artists could make likenesses remarkably flattering, others less so. We’ve all seen some portraits where, if I’d been the subject, I’d say to myself, “Wow. It looks just like me. Take it out back and burn it immediately. Then tell the artist he did a great job, but he really should run for his life.” Even King Henry VIII, on seeing his later images, must have thought, “My God. I look like SpongeBob Squarepants. Get Holbein in here and redo everything from the neck down.”
So, going back to my original premise, it’s quite fascinating to observe the range from those truly and completely obsessed with looking at themselves to those who can’t abide it and refuse to have their pictures taken, with most of us somewhere in between. Perhaps, in retrospect, Howard Hughes had the right idea, while Mark Zuckerberg and the folks building iPhones have done us a great disservice. It’s even more illuminating, particularly for those that lack self-awareness, to see who looks at themselves and thinks, “Looking great!”. And they don’t, by a longshot. One former president comes immediately to mind. But it is truly a shame when apparently so many folks place themselves in harm’s way because it was essential that their face is prominent among those on Mount Rushmore or on the beach as that momentous tidal wave came in. To quote that proverb, “Discretion is the better part of valor.” That picture of the Colosseum won’t be enhanced by you falling off the top level. When it comes to self-portraits, unless you’re Rembrandt, I’m thinking. . . . . .don’t bother.
I'm Thinking...No! 