Is Melania's Jacket Important?

Is Melania’s jacket important?

In case you have been on a desert island, let me explain. Melania Trump, broke with protocol and left the White House yesterday. The rarely seen first lady apparently decided that she needed to get out. She needed some fresh air. But what does a reclusive former soft porn star do when she gets bored hanging out at The White House?  Well, she could go visit those poor immigrant kids that Donald keeps whining about. Donald has been sulking around saying that no one will pay attention to his great accomplishments because of those sobbing child actors down at the border. So, Melania decides that she will just hop on down to Texas and get this issue fixed, so that Donald can get back to complaining about Mueller and praising ruthless dictators. That’s the Donald she loves.

As a former (ahem…cough,cough) fashion model, Melania must make sure that she picks just the right outfit for the day’s outing. If only Michelle Obama had worn clothes with words emblazoned on them so that she could just plagiarize her wardrobe.  But alas, she can’t just keep stealing ideas from Michelle. At least that is what her awful staff keeps telling her. So, she must dig through her own closet to find just the right tacky attire for visiting a bunch of crying babies from some shithole countries. 

After sorting through her various “I’m with Stupid” t-shirts and her “Hillary and Monica both Suck” outfits, she settles on something from her apathy collection. She had many designs to choose from. Here are some examples:

It’s an easy choice though!  The army green jacket kind of makes her look like someone in the military. She puts it on and feels powerful. She above all others has the authority to decide whether this whole family being separated thing matters or not. After all, she had to endure being stuck in Trump Tower while her own little brat got to go to The White House. Donald, that is. She was held in that tower like some forgotten princess while her perfect son, Baron, finished the school year out. She wondered why these peasants were so needy. If she could stand what she went through, then just what is their problem?  She was getting all worked up thinking about it, but the words on the jacket soothed her. “I really don’t care, do you?”  It was perfect.  It said exactly what she felt. And she had every right to feel that way. 

Sadly, as hard as she tried by asking what she could do to help, these people just kept on complaining. Oh well, at least she tried to give a flip.

Now I ask again, is Melania’s jacket important? Does it say something about who we are as a society?  Does it further civil discourse? Does it even matter?

Well, I guess I really don’t care. Do you?

Remarkable Ordinary Moments

I loved watching my dad switch into photographer mode. He knew a great shot the instant he saw it. We could be anywhere when he might suddenly spot a scene that called out to him that it needed to be photographed. He would stomp on the brakes and cause lenses and film canisters to come rolling out from under the seat of the car. His camera was always close by. He might use his shirt to give the lens a quick dusting. In an instant, he would change from Dad to Spot News Tom. He would approach the subject with confidence. He somehow conveyed, without words, that he was supposed to be doing exactly what he was doing; taking pictures of a random stranger. He might snap a few quick shots before the subject stopped doing whatever it was that my father saw a great feature picture in.  Then he would put out his hand, smiling all the way, and say, “How ya’ doin’? Tom Franklin, The Charlotte Observer.” I loved that part. He said it with real authority, but in a warm voice.

Dad would quickly grab his reporter’s notepad out of his pocket and start asking questions. He would explain that he thought it was a great image that would most likely run in the paper. He would get their names and then just have a friendly chat with them about whatever activity they had been doing that caught his attention. He listened and was fascinated by everyone’s stories. He could see beauty in the smallest of everyday activities that most of us would just pass by. It was his job to notice, but he truly was a natural observer of life.

Dad getting details from fireman.

Meeting people and capturing a beautiful moment in their life was his favorite part of the job. He shot hurricanes, tragedies, and world leaders. But he was at his best when capturing scenes from everyday life. I recently found a print that demonstrates what we meant when we would say that Dad had an “eye for photography.” He had been driving around the city on a hot summer day. He needed a great shot that demonstrated that it was an especially hot summer. A heatwave. As he meandered around the city, he spotted a welder. What could be hotter than welding on a summer day? He stopped, took some shots of the welder in action. After the worker stopped and answered the obligatory questions for Dad to jot down in his notepad, the welder took a break. He sat down and fired up a cigarette. His goggles were pushed up on his forehead. He had beads of sweat covering his square-jawed handsome face. His fingers that held the cigarette were stained from welding and heavily calloused. This was the real hot weather shot and dad knew it. Most photographers would have already returned to their cars and headed to the darkroom with some sparkly welding pictures. But Dad recognized the pureness of the moment when the man, with a look of complete satisfaction on his face, relaxed with a smoke.

Often Dad would go into photographer mode with his own children. There is a picture of me that demonstrates that at times his eye for a great photo was sometimes his first instinct.  In the photo, I look to be about three years old. I am standing in knee deep water in the ocean. My hair is standing straight up, my clothes are soaking wet, and I am making the best cry face ever. It’s apparent that I had just been pounded by a wave and I did not like it one bit. I’m sure my mother came rushing to pick me up while my father snapped away. 

You might think that I would be upset that my father thought of the photo opportunity before coming to my rescue, but you would be mistaken. It’s one of my favorite photos that he took of me. It’s a real moment. A moment that I learned something about the nature of life. An instant when I was immersed in the inevitability that life is going to send waves crashing over your head from time to time. A genuine and spontaneous baptism by an unpredictable universe. This picture makes me smile. So maybe the most fatherly thing he could have done in that moment was to capture in black and white that there is beauty in even our most vulnerable moments. A reminder that life is a series of seemingly ordinary moments. Some are joyful and some are trying. But each frame is remarkable and worthy of our notice.

My Father and Natural Light

As a photographer, Dad preferred to shoot using natural light.

This required setting the aperture wide open, slowing the shutter speed way down, and keeping a steady hand. It’s kind of how he lived his life: Eyes wide open and observing. Taking it all in at a leisurely pace.

Using natural light was not the easiest way to take a picture, but the result was always more beautiful, more real, more life-like than an image made using a flash.  Dad understood that his job was that of a craftsman. He instinctively knew that capturing moments of real lives was important, not because of any high-brow ideas about art, but because EACH -  MOMENT -of - our –LIVES- Matter.

I can’t count the number of times that someone has told me that my father took the best picture that had ever been made of them. Some days, people would call our house just to tell Dad how much they enjoyed one of his photographs in the paper that day.

Dad would downplay his talent. He would say that he was just in the right place at the right time. Or he might joke that he just took so many pictures that some were bound to come out right. Just like his photos, there was nothing artificial about Dad.

Technically speaking, Dad captured the light from the sun that reflects off all things and people to record an image. But there is ANOTHER kind of natural light that resides in all of us. My father possessed that light in abundance. It was so bright that you could even hear it in his voice over the telephone.  In person, it was an even brighter and an engaging light. A light that put you immediately at ease. His bright spirit could lift your mood, as fast as clicking a camera.

In the book of Matthew, Jesus says, “YOU are the light of the world. Do not light your candle and hide it, but place it on a stand where all can see it. Let your light shine so that others may see your good works.” This!.... yes, this is how my father lived his life. He enthusiastically shone a natural and bright light upon everyone in his orbit….. day in….day out.

And he had a knack for bringing out that kind of natural light in others. I believe this is why Dad was able to capture so many great images of people. And people were definitely his favorite subject. He could shoot a great landscape or compose a picture with the best of them. But what made him special as a photographer and as a human was his ability to put people at ease.

The real light and energy that makes a great picture comes from the people in the photo. When we are self-conscious, we stifle our own natural light. We tense up and hold that energy in. Dad put his subjects at ease by using his affable demeanor and making them forget the camera was there for just a moment. All the while encouraging and saying… just one more… oooonnnne more. It was always just oooonnnne more. But you can bet he knew the exact “snap of the button” that caught you at your best. That’s when he’d say, “alright, alright..I’m done”

 Dad made each person’s day a little brighter. He showed us how to always be the best version of ourselves.