OD'd on embalming fluid

Last week, I needed a photo to accompany an opinion article I wrote scheduled to appear in the Sunday issue of my hometown newspaper, the Sacramento Bee.  I looked at my photo inventory and discovered nothing recent.  So, I then decided to take a couple new selfies thinking this would be an easy and quick task. 

When looking at the two or three photos just taken, I immediately gasped in disbelief.  I looked to my left and right, then behind, to make sure there was nobody in sight.  Then I deleted these photos as quickly as I had taken them.  They would never be seen by anyone else in the whole wide world. 

I felt relieved but this experience left me in a daze and numb struck.  Being the optimist I am, however, I told myself I’d try again later in the day when my face woke up.  With attaboy middle-aged man self-talk, I told myself I’d surely snap a couple winners.

Well later came but not the glamorous middle-aged man images I had in my expecting mind’s eye.  The newest attempts produced images appearing as bad, if not worse, than my earlier attempt.  If I tried a third time, I thought, would they be the worst?

I found myself in a big bind.  What was I going to do?

Taking another look at my photo inventory, I found one somewhat recent.  However, it was one of me taken on Ash Wednesday two years earlier, and I was still sporting visible ashes on my forehead.  A call to a good friend who’s a graphic artist solved my dilemma.  He used his skills to make my ashes go away.  I now had the photo that would appear with my opinion article in Sunday’s newspaper.

I had survived this traumatic event!

In Monday morning quarterback mode, the following day, I learned that I was ill and had been when these photos were taken.  This made me feel good because I now had a rational explanation for the horror-stricken images witnessed less than 24-hours earlier.  In a sigh of relief, I knew these photos were not of me laying in my future casket.

This middle-aged man traumatic experience made me realize that I may be stuck with my current photo inventory with no opportunity for new ones.  Unless, that is, I’m willing to buy some expensive Adobe Photoshop image editing and enhancing software and get very good using it.

It also made me realize that while I still enjoy my middle-aged man morning encounters with my bathroom mirror, it’s my camera with which I have real and serious issues.

Finally, this experience made me wonder if my morning cup of coffee had been spiked, and that I had OD’d on embalming fluid.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum