December 21, 2005
Photographic proof of Christmas cheer
By
Herald Editor
Half a box of Milkbones and a Rudolph nose later, I have photographic proof of 300 dots per inch high resolution Christmas cheer.
As obligatory holiday traditions go, the Christmas card photo often fails to reach holly or jolly on the mirth scale. The family photo falls under fruitcake holiday icon. Every year these glossy finish gifts are dutifully exchanged. Although the sight of little Billy and his nose goblins is harder to stomach than Aunt Gertrude's bourbon-soaked fruitcake.
Admittedly this is the reason why I stay behind the camera at all costs. I also have an irrational fear of matching snowman sweaters. Thankfully, I have a 3 1/2 year old loophole that loves to dress in red velvet.
Despite being paid to take photos, last year I outsourced our Christmas card. While the portrait turned out great, the hour and half spent in the waiting room was hardly the stuff of happy holidays. It was like an episode of Romper Room directed by Quentin Tarantino.
To avoid oversugared ankle biters this year, the Christmas card photo became an in-house project. It was a last-minute assignment; which is the only way newspaper people function. Unlike our lens, photographers have a short focal range.
It was my wife who suggested that I snap a picture of Ella and Corky together by the tree. This presented only one challenge: getting all three to show up in the same frame. Even before I could take off the lens cap, out came the bane of photogs - props. I think W.C. Fields succinctly said don't work with kids, animals or battery-operated Rudolph noses.
Within five seconds things went pretty much as planned - just like Rube Goldberg drew up the photo shoot. Actually it was more like a game of Simon Says Ignore the Words Coming Out of My Mouth, with ill-timed flash photography. I have a new found respect for elementary school teachers and lion tamers.
While Ella proved a willing, if not overeager subject, the dog was like Lassie on crack. I've never seen a canine sit, stay, lay down and run away all at the same time. I think it was the little Santa hat stuck between her ears. The only thing that kept her in check was dangling Milkbones.
For nearly 15 minutes, dog, daughter and daddy engaged in mental Twister. If you've never tried, this is how a round typically goes:
- Daddy: OK, sit by the tree. Good. No-no-no leave the Prussian glass ornament alone. Sit. Wait. Wait. Wait. Let's not eat the stocking. All right now, where's the dog?
- Dog: Pant. (nearly knock over tree with tail. sit. stand. turn around. attempt to gnaw at humiliating holiday prop on head). Pant (repeat).
- Daughter: (shifting back and forth in her chiffon) I have to go potty.
Often at this time of year, we lament losing focus on the true spirit of Christmas. Genuine cheer is not easy to find. Sometimes it takes a half-eaten box of Milkbones, a burned-out Rudolph nose and 56 camera exposures.
Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or email gleiva@gtherald.com