A few months ago some so-called professional photographer visited Jimmy' spub to take photos of staff, customers and premises. He supplied Jimmy with a CD and I have to say, I was not impressed. He was an amateur. Either he had a good camera, or else he had the chutzpah to say 'I'm a professional photographer' which, somehow, makes people more co-operative.
A few weeks ago Jimmy's niece got married. We noticed the two photographers roaming around the reception and assumed they were getting candid shots without people being particularly aware. Claire sent out a message today linking to a site where, with a password, we could access 360 photos of the day, which is an excellent idea. Of course, they are fairly low resolution, good enough for the web, but not for prints. Clever!
Even though I don't like this photo because it's not flattering to me, I can really appreciate what the photographer has done. Or could, if it wasn't me.
Also, Jimmy gets absolved from not having taken one of me full length, even though, of course, any attempts at elegance on my part are ruined by:
- posture
- already perspiring in the heat
- as always, having my bloody camera in my hand!
