A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Over the weekend, Jack and I attended a friend’s summer BBQ bash. Our eccentric posse of friends is made up of a gaggle of diverse late 20 and early 30 year olds, branding us, ‘the honorary old timers.’The generational gap is most profoundly felt when topics arise regarding the pre-internet world, which many of our friends never experienced.
When I made a reference to the world before Facebook, my friend Terry piped in with, “OH, I totally remember that! When there was only My Space.” Thanks for that Terry, I was referring to the telephone, (insert eye roll here).
Another difference providently observed is the ‘selfie’ taking. Not a moment passes without someone sticking a cellphone in your face and squishing up against you, demanding you smile, oblivious to the fact that you just shovelled a heaping forkful of potato salad into your mouth.
‘Selfies’ annoy me. I find them intrusive and disruptive, like a fire alarm sounding off.
Stop, huddle, smile.
When the cellphone appears, I am suddenly thrust into a set of contortion poses, either to make tall, (standing at my full height to be seen in the back row) or to make small, (lowering down enough to get the top of my head into frame) all the while wondering if I have lettuce in my teeth.
My most notable, make tall or make small, photo moment came during my girlfriend Gweniever’s wedding in Vegas, at the Bellagio.
Gwen is 4’11 and her husband is 5’5. They make the cutest couple, like the bride and groom cake toppers come to life. Gwen chose three bridesmaids to attend her, Lisa 5’4, Laura 5’8 and me…6’1.
The wedding theme was Breakfast at Tiffany’s and each of us was outfitted in the most gorgeous black satin, sweetheart neck, strapless, floor length gown that tapered in at the knee then flared out for a dramatic finish.
The Bellagio provided photographer lined all of the wedding party up in a row against the beautiful backdrop of the rose covered terrace. In a moment of ingenuity, I kicked off my heels, knocked my knees together and wedged my feet apart under the cloak of my gown, lowering me nearly 4 inches and putting me just slightly taller then Laura who was posed next to me.
Feeling pretty good about myself for coming up with this ‘make small’ pose, I used it frequently throughout the rest of the reception.
Upon viewing the wedding photos a few weeks later, I realized my perspective error. In my haste to shorten my ‘head height’, I had completely forgotten to disguise my 6’1 arm span. In every photo, my long pasty arms dangled, shockingly, passed my presumed waist height making it appear that Gwen had an orangutan-armed bridesmaid.
Epic ‘selfie’ failure….