On Being Cool.

My parents were pretty cool. Sure, it took some time for me to realize it-about 50 years-but once I really thought about how they lived their lives, I was impressed by just how cool they really were. No, they didn't set any trends. They didn't even participate much in trends. Nor were they particularly talented. In fact, they were pretty ordinary, except for one thing:

Flamingo Pink shutters. And a front door to match. Not Pale Pink, or Rose Pink, but bright, shocking Flamingo Pink that you could almost hear on a bright summer day. It was actually more of a “Shocking Pink”, but my parent's kept saying it was Flamingo Pink, so who was I to argue?

While this may have been normal in parts of Miami or other communities further south, in Northern Virginia, just outside of Washington D.C. it was not the norm.

When my parents bought the house I grew up in, a nice 3 bedroom, brick split level ranch, the ornamental shutters were painted white. This wouldn't do, because my mother's favorite color was Flamingo Pink (or alternately Coral Pink). The house was brand new. The neighborhood was still undergoing construction, so we didn't even have grass growing in the yard, just the weird green stuff they sprayed on lawns back then to make it look better until the grass seed took root. Yet, the first thing my father did was paint the shutters Flamingo Pink.

As the neighborhood grew, everyone else kept their shutters white, or some other innocuous color such as gray, slate blue, maybe a pale yellow. Occasionally black (which got the kids in the neighborhood telling stories about the evil things that went on there). People driving by our house were immediately struck by just how much the shutters stood out not only from the the 30 foot high brick wall, but from every other house in the neighborhood.

My mother didn't care: that was her favorite color. My father loved my mother enough to do whatever he could to make her happy, even if he knew there were some comments about other families in the neighborhood about just how shockingly pink our shutters were. I remember at times I wished my parents were better at conforming, shutter-wise, to the standards of the neighborhood. At other times I felt pride in being different.

It wasn't until years later, when I was old enough to stop caring if people snickered at how I dressed or looked, that I realized how utterly cool those pink shutters, and my parents, were.

You see, coolness is a matter of sticking to what you want to do, not out of rebellion or trying to look special, but simply because it makes you happy. A lot of people think being cool consists of dressing, acting and speaking in a way that others desire to emulate. That's not really being cool, it's being pretentious. That's because genuine coolness requires some originality. Without originality, attempts at being cool just end up as follow the fad efforts that really only impress other unoriginal thinkers.

Being different just to make a statement or rebel from the norm isn't necessarily cool either. It's often just being childish. That's because another factor in being truly cool, besides originality, is self-confidence. Rebellion isn't a sign of self-confidence. In fact, it's usually a sign of insecurity or resentment. Real self-confidence is following a preferred path because that path involves contentment, satisfaction and happiness.

My parents had the self-confidence that comes from loving each other enough to be willing to please each other without concern as to what others thought about it. You don't get much cooler than that.

Shocking Flamingo Pink shutters in a neighborhood of pastel or earth tone shutters certainly requires a degree of self-confidence.

That coolness on the part of my parents extended to how they landscaped the big slope that made up a large part of the back yard. After laying in several tons of blue granite walls and concrete walkways to keep things from sliding away in a heavy rain, we planted a ton, literally, of creeping phlox in white, blue and, yes, pink. After they began creeping (as is their purpose) the entire hill would erupt in a riotous mosaic of white, blue and pink every summer. People driving by would slow down to look at the sight, it was so glorious. They would of course see the Flamingo Pink shutters as well.

I like to think they would drive off muttering “That was so cool”.

When and Why a Pro is Needed, and When One Isn't.

The above image is from a show I did for a friend. She heads up an organization called The Hook, which is dedicated to promoting and presenting things such as spoken word performances,writers' workshops etc. She wanted someone she knew was experienced in capturing this sort of performance and would deliver the sort of photos she wanted to have, both as a record of the event and to promote The Hook and future events.

She made sure she had a budget to pay for my work. She's professional enough to not ask for a "G.W.C." (Guy With Camera) to do the show for free. Two reasons for this. One, being a professional herself, she doesn't like being expected to perform or do a workshop for free.Two, she knows that when it comes to photography, you often get what you pay for.

It's not just that I have the gear to get a photo like this. Anyone can buy the same gear. The fact is, too often people think that obtaining "professional gear" then means they can embark upon what they think is a professional level of photography. I see it on photography forums all the time: people with expensive gear asking questions about how to do a certain job they are going to be paid for. The fact is, they should be learning that before they buy the gear, because that knowledge takes time and experience to hone to a level where it justifies taking money for a job.

What my friend paid for, what any paying client expects, is my skill and experience. My style of photography as well. In this particular case, I knew how to anticipate what was going on onstage with this dancer, and caught a moment that defines this particular part of the performance. Knowing how to take hundreds of such photos during a show (or wedding, or other event) is what makes for a "true professional". That's someone who consistently delivers a body of  images that are recognizably better than what people using their own cameras or smartphones capture. 

Note two important things I said "consistently" and "body of images". This is one of over 500 images from the show. It's one of 34 that I did a complete edit on, because that is part of what I was hired to do, present her with a certain number of images that she could immediately use for whatever purposes she chose. The other 499 images are .jpegs straight out of the camera, with the only edits being deleting those that either had technical flaws or were simply badly timed shots.

That's the next step, editing. This particular photo is cropped to the best composition and processed to reduce noise, minimize distracting elements and make the dancer look as appealing as possible (not hard, as she is lovely and has flawless skin). That's the other skill a pro brings, knowing how to make the photos look better than what comes out of the camera.

If I wanted to (or if she paid extra) I could deliver at least another 50 photos that I would consider "prime material". By that I mean photos that would compliment a website, or be good for a poster or press kit, or in the personal portfolio of one of the performers. That's where the consistency comes in. My friend has over 500 images, nearly all of which can ultimately used without any doubt regarding consistent quality. 

Yes, many of the images are simply slight variations in expression, or position. However, that is what a client can and should expect, because while I may feel that image A is the best choice, the client may prefer image B. My job is to offer a consistent selection for review. 

How many photos did I actually take (meaning, what's my "keeper" rate)? 

Just over 600.  Yes, that's right: my "keeper" rate for this show was about 85%. That's what a professional should expect of him/herself, and offer to his/her clients. People who are happy with 10% or 20% keeper rates shouldn't try to offer their work for a fee. They will not only shortchange their clients, but also spend a lot of wasted time sorting through photos that shouldn't even have been taken.

One final note: this was a live show, not a dress rehearsal. Normally I would shoot a dress rehearsal in order to have as much freedom to move around as I could without disturbing audience members. That simply didn't work out for this shoot. So, I had to make sure that I got the shots I needed working from the sides and back, without obstructing the view of audience members. I know how to do that. I've watched too many people get in the way of audience members as they try to get a good shot.

So, here's when and why a professional (meaning one with the proper experience and knowledge, not just someone with decent gear trying to snag some paying gigs):

• When you need consistent results that stand apart from what the average person produces. Experience and knowledge are worth paying for. You're paying a professional photographer for his or her judgment, not just for some photos.
• When you need a body of work that offers a solid and varied selection of images, all of which are suitable for display or publication. NOT just 10 or 20 good images and a few hundred included on a CD that are marginal to outright bad.
• When you need images that fulfill an expectation you have regarding quality as it relates to what the images are meant to be used for.
• When you don't want to risk having someone tell you that they had problems that kept you from receiving the photos you expected.
• When you don't want to look back and think "Sheesh, I could have done this well myself".

This last point brings up the second half of this article, when you don't need a professional. There were a number of people at this show using their smart phones and tablets to capture photos and video. (There was a professional videographer there as well). Some of these people were related to the actors, writers, choreographers etc., so they were capturing images for personal archives. To them, it didn't matter how a photo or video taken from 12 rows back with the sort of wide angle lens found on a phone or tablet would look. They were making a personal record of the event to keep and to share on Facebook, Instagram and other online venues.

They were making personal memories, and so technical considerations, as well as the sort of expectations a professional would have, were moot. Sure, some were making efforts at decent composition. I even saw one person making exposure compensation adjustments on her smart phone camera. For the most part, though, these were stills and video intended to preserve the memory of the event, just as photos and home movies have for generations. 

When people look at photos of a loved one in a play, they don't usually stop to analyze the technical aspects of the image, or whether the composition is conforming to the Rule of Thirds. They are making an emotional connection to the event through the image. 

That is actually something that a pro may not be able to provide. The image above certainly involves the emotion of the moment, and to many people will provide an emotional connection of some sort to the dancer. But it's just not quite the same as an image taken by the dancer's mother or brother or a friend.That's because my image is, ultimately, a bit impersonal, as I don't have a relationship with the dancer beyond having taken her photo during a performance.

A pro isn't necessarily needed when photos that embrace a personal relationship and/or special memory is involved. In fact, the way a pro produces photos can even interfere with creating the sort of emotionally connected image people produce on their own. Sometimes a pro's judgment is, well, too professional. It's too clinical and steeped in assessing the technical and aesthetic standards that warrant being paid for photography. 

For example: when I worked at a portrait studio, I was constantly surprised by the photos people would choose to have printed. Sometimes they were just plain bad when it came to capturing the subject at his or her best. However, to the person who chose that particular pose, there was something about the image that connected with them. My place was not to argue with the choice, but to say "Excellent" and proceed with the order.

So, you don't necessarily need a professional photographer when you are wanting to capture images that have an emotional connection or help revisit the memory of a special event. Or even just a keepsake of everyday life. If you ever hear anyone say that such photos you took aren't very good, just tell them that since it's your photo, it's as good as it needs to be. 

Don't Shelve Your Camera Just Because It's Cold Outside.

Cattails in a small pond take on an entirely different aesthetic when photographed in the middle of winter.

Once the holidays are past, winter tends to be a time when many people leave their cameras on the shelf or in the closet. The cold, snowy weather tends to discourage some people from venturing out to take photos. Sometimes this is because they have tried taking photos in snowy conditions and the results have been unsatisfactory. Winter conditions can be challenging to those who don't have some basic understanding of how to shoot in either cloudy, dreary weather or with lots of snow around.

There are two primary things to remember when shooting in snowy conditions. First is that you will almost always have to increase exposure by 1 to 2 stops (EV) in order to have snow that actually looks like snow. This is because even the most sophisticated camera metering system is designed to expose a scene relative to 18% grey. Years ago, camera makers decided that the majority of scenes average out to 18% grey, and so programmed reflected light meters to expose for that tonality.

The problem is, snow is white, not grey. But the meter in your camera doesn't know whether you are photographing snow or a nice, warm meadow on a summer afternoon. I see lots of winter photos what are dreary and grey because the person didn't know about increasing the EV to “overexpose” the scene (according to the meter) in order to make sure snow turns out white. Adjusting the exposure to +1 to +2 EV is pretty easy with most cameras, with either a dial or a menu setting being easily accessed to do so. Experiment a bit to find the results you like.

The other area of concern is white balance. Most cameras do a pretty good job of adjusting white balance automatically, but snowy conditions are problematic because snow reflects so much more light than other surfaces (including “blue” wavelengths). What happens is that reflected light fills in shadows more than usual, and the blue portion of the light, normally absorbed by things like grass or other less reflective surfaces, causes things in the shadows to take on a blue color cast.

One way of dealing with this is to set white balance to shade or cloudy rather than daylight. This tends to warm things up just a bit. Sometimes, a camera's automatic white balance is good enough this isn't necessary. Whatever the case, again you should experiment with settings to find what works best and gets the results you want with your camera. Keep in mind, you can always make minor adjustments with most editors in post processing.

Now that the main technical issues are out of the way, what if all that coldness just keeps you from being inspired enough to take your camera out? That's a reasonable point of view, as not everyone appreciates the photographic potential of a “winter wonderland”. The potential for some unique and interesting photos is certainly there, but as with anything photographic, it takes determination on the part of the photographer to pull it all together.

Of course, simply recording the weather for the sake of remembrance is enough for some, but I want to encourage even “keepsake shooters” to stretch yourselves and find ways of making photos that show you've stretched your creative boundaries and made photos, rather than simply recording what is in front of you.

The photo above is an example. We were out in some nice, icy weather (temps in the low 20s and falling as the sun went down). I'd looked at a lot of possible photos through my viewfinder, and nothing really stood out as worth taking. Then I stopped looking for “obvious” photos and thought on a more basic level. Once I did that, I saw the wonderful abstract patterns in the ice and snow covering the lake we were by. (In this particular case, the blue cast issue snow presents actually worked in favor of good images.)

In fact, winter is an especially good time for abstract photos because of the high level of contrast so often found as well as the fact that snow blankets surfaces and removes details. Even the fact that most trees are leafless contributes to excellent abstract potential. This same chair on a deck is a pretty boring subject during the summer months, but with a covering of new-fallen snow it takes on a different aura.

Then there is something simple and challenging like capturing a drop of water falling from a melting ice cycle. Getting the timimg right along with decent lighting makes the photo doubly attractive.

Don't let cold, snowy conditions discourage you from getting out with your camera and making images that satisfy your creative urges and you enjoy sharing.

New Camera? "RTFM", Then...Practice.

Yes, reading the manual has always helped.

You've got that sweet new camera, and now after a few photos taken Christmas morning (or a bit later if you had to wait for a battery to charge) you are thinking of all the great photos you are going to take. Whether your new camera is intended to launch you into a more advanced and deeper participation in photography, and upgrade to an existing kit, or just something you though would be nice to own for those special occasions, it's important to learn how to use it properly.

The first step is to read the manual. Um, yeah, what manual? Few cameras come with physical manuals of late: usually all there is in the box is a quick start guide, and buyers are expected to either download the .pdf manual from the company's website, or perhaps find it on whatever software DVD came with the camera. Like it or not, reading the manual is an important step what should not be skipped.

“But da-ad,. I want to start playing with it right now.!”

You can do that, by sitting down with the manual and playing with the camera as you read through it. Trust me, you will be glad you did. I frequent a gear-oriented online website and the forums are flooded with questions about how to do certain things. Things that are found in the manual. Things people really should know before they even try using the camera.

Asking for such information on a public forum can get a range of responses from very helpful to confusing to “RTFM” (Read The F***ing Manual). Best to avoid all that by actually reading the manual, then going online to ask questions if something in the manual isn't clear. Which is usually the case. The manuals are translated into English from Japanese.

The manual is important because even consumer grade cameras today are filled with more features than most people will normally ever use (especially if they don't read the manual). Finding out what your camera can do, and how to do it, can avoid the frustration of thinking it can't do something, or not being able to capture pleasing images in certain situations due to lack of proper camera settings. A common occurrence is indoor photos that have an unpleasant color cast to them because the person using the camera doesn't know how to set the White Balance control. RTFM.

So, you've read the manual and as a result know the features you want to use and how to use them. You've even set things up so the camera is a breeze to use. You're all set, right?

Of course...not.

Producing photos that go from “hohum” to “nice shot” to “Wow, you must be a professional” is a process of practice much as it is with music. Even the most automatic keyboard still requires the player to practice his part, even if that's just the melody. (Besides, there is much more satisfaction in actually learning how to play piano than in just knowing which keys to press while the keyboard does most of the work.)

Here's the real gist of this article: how to practice photography. I'm going to talk about that on two levels, beginner and experienced.

Photography involves seeing, and that means training your “photographic vision”. This happens in two ways. One is to study, not just glance at, photos that impress you with their quality, both technical and aesthetic. Just as listening to master musicians can inspire, so too can studying photos by master photographers. Just as budding musicians will learn and practice songs as played by masters, photographers can benefit from attempting to emulate the work of masters. This includes both learning the technical aspects (such as Edward Weston's lighting technique) as well as the aesthetic.

With photography, the technical knowledge and ability often makes aesthetic success easier, so learning how Weston lit his famous bell peppers can mean the ability to realize all sorts of images you want to produce, without looking at them and thinking they aren't quite what you hoped to accomplish. This aspect of developing photographic ability applies to both experienced and beginning photographers. I constantly study works by masters and pursue learning new techniques.

To get really good, be prepared to take your camera with you as much as possible. Sitting in a closet or shelf does you know good. Keep it in the car (out of sight to avoid theft) take it with you when you go out for a walk. Sometimes photo opportunities pop up unexpetedly, but sometimes you create those opportunities yourself. As the saying goes, the best camera is the one you have with you when the chance to make a photo arises.

A major learning stage for a beginner is using your camera in all sorts of different situations. Sit down and make a list of the situations you anticipate photographing, then practice techniques that will help you both get to know your camera and the situaton better. For instance: if you are going to be doing a lot of photography involving your kids playing sports, then study the features of your camera that relate to action (shutter speed, ISO settings, autofocus modes). Take that knowledge and practice.

No soccer games in the offing? No problem. As your kids to run around kicking a soccer ball in the back yard or at the park so you can practice panning, anticipating the height of action, framing moving subjects et al. An ideal situation is to practice photography during your kids' sports practices. That way when a game comes up, you will already know how to capture the action like a boss.

Such regular “practice” is what results in photos that wow people as opposed to those which just look like anyone else's snapshots. This goes for any subject.

One thing I do want to mention, and this applies to both beginners and experienced photographers, is “Don't just stand there”. People tend to take photos from the natural position of standing up. This often results in boring, or at least ordinary, photos.

Years ago I read an interview with a photographer known for the quality of his nature photography workshops. He said he could tell at the start of the workshop who would produce the best photos. Was it their cameras? No, it was their clothes. The photographers who showed up in older clothes they were willing to get dirty were the ones prepared to get down on their knees or clamber about in trees to get the shot. The ones in nicer clothes wouldn't do that. The photos showed the difference in their willingness to do more than stand there with a camera.

The next aspect of practicing is to pick a theme or subject and shoot it consistently for a period of time, working to capture it in as many different ways as possible. Some suggest a “photo a day” approach, but I feel that for some that can actually limit creativity. Try working on a particular subject or theme for a month, or maybe a few months. A year even. It doesn't have to be an exclusive effort, but it should involve a disciplined, regular activity designed to develop both technical and creative abilities.

For more experienced photographers, stretch yourselves by making your projects subjects or themes you don't normally photograph, even to the point of them being things you aren't normally interested in. I don't normally photograph cars, but in 2017 one of my learning projects will involve going to a car show or two to hone skills in that area. Why? Because I want to constantly be improving, and because I may find income opportunities from it.

Some would suggest joining a camera club to help learn. Maybe. I'd recommend attending a few meetings before actually joining. I've had some bad experiences with camera clubs that were very cliquish and spent most of their time debating gear instead of actually sharing a love of photography.

For beginners, photography classes are often a great way to learn to make the most of your new camera, and well worth the cost in the long run. Or even just buying a few photography how to books. Both earn a return on investment by helping you get the most out of your camera.

These are just a few suggestions on how to optimize that great new camera you have wanted for ages. One thing I've seen happen too often is people get a new camera, but after the excitement of having a cool new toy wears off, it gets shelved and only used for special occasions such as birthday parties or holidays. Usually this results from the owner reaching a certain plateau of enjoyment or ability. The overall quality of the photos starts to stagnate, or lack of facility with the camera results in a lot of missed shots or spoiled photos, or he/she can't figure out how to take photos in certain situations. The camera becomes a source of frustration, rather than enjoyment, so it ends up hardly being used. To me, that's a lot of money wasted for something that can be handled by an inexpensive point or even a smartphone.

Remember that the real enjoyment of a camera comes not from the camera itself, but from the images you produce with it. That's why putting in the effort to lean the most you can about both the camera and photography is important, because it can increase your enjoyment of the images you make.

Do You Need That Fancy-and Expensive-New Camera?

So you really need that fancy DSLR or MILC camera for Christmas? Really, do you need it? Can you quantify what it is about all the extra features, maybe the larger sensor, the looks, the prestige of ownership, that you need to have to produce better photos?

What do you mean by “better photos” anyway?

Will they be technically better? 

 Almost certainly if you are going with just about any current dedicated camera as an upgrade from a smart phone The sensor size difference alone will make for sharper photos with less noise and better colors and dynamic range. The ability to control things such as shutter speed, aperture, ISO and lens focal length can all make for better photos technically.

But will they be that much better, f you don't take the time to adequately learn how to get the most from your shiny new camera? (Lots of people don't which is why the shiny new camera ends up being a waste of money.)

Better photos? 

Possibly, if you currently have a camera that is either outdated (as in 5 years old or more) or lacking certain features the new camera has. However, the same constraint applies: you need to learn how to properly use all the new capabilities, not just assume a newer, more advanced (and more expensive) camera is going to automatically improve things because of automated features. It still takes a human being with knowledge and judgment to optimize the output of even the most advanced and sophisticated camera.

So then, “possibly” can turn into “probably not” if you haven't already reached a point where you can get the most out of your current camera, and it's actually inhibiting your ability to produce the photos you want, or keeping you from enjoying photography.

Consider this: the marketing department of every camera maker says you need the latest and best camera. What they mean is they need you to buy it, and the best way they can get you to do that is convince you that photos from your 2 year old entry level camera are crap compared to the latest mid range or prosumer camera they offer. Just remember that 2 years from now they will be saying the same things about the cameras they are trying to get you to buy now.

The fact is that about 80% of photos are taken under conditions that can be easily handled by a smart phone made within the past 3 or 4 years. The other 20% are indeed situations in which exacting controls, better sensors and longer or shorter focal length lenses are necessary to produce images worth looking at. Just try capturing a soccer or baseball game, birds in the backyard or close ups of flowers with a smart phone. 

Tried that already? Did it make you swoon with photographic euphoria? I didn't think so. (There are people taking some outstanding photos with only smart phones, but sports and wildlife are not usually their genres.)

The question remains, though, do you need the latest camera available? I, along with thousands of other professionals, produce sale-able images with cameras that are years from initial release. They get the job done, and have long since met return on investment, and important point for pro photographers. Why invest money in new gear when it isn't actually needed? 

Some pros do need the latest gear, in order to assure themselves of optimal capabilities. A missed shot due to a gear shortcoming can not just cost some money, it can tarnish the reputation of a pro photographer and thus lose future assignments.

However, that applies to pros, and only a small percentage of pros at that.

99.9% of camera owners are not going to risk losing income due to a camera's burst rate not being fast enough, or missing the focus, or having too much noise in a low light situation. As I mentioned above, 80% of photos out there can be produced easily and adequately with a smart phone This has always been the case, relative to the technology of the time. 30 years ago, 80% of photos were produced by simple 35mm cameras, many of them fixed lens or with the standard 50mm lens. Before that it was Instamatics, and before that basic box cameras.

Most people really don't need even a basic DSLR or MILC to take photos worth showing and sharing. Sales trends bear this out, as the compact camera market has almost died out completely, replaced by smart phones, while the bridge and DSLR/MILC markets are struggling as well. So, if you are yearning for a $1000+ DSLR kit, do you really need it?

Probably not.

However, if you want it because it will lead you to enjoy photography more, and perhaps increase your level of knowledge and quality of your photos, then that is all the reason you need to buy it.

Please don't let it sit on a shelf or in a closet, to be used only for special occasions. Make the most of it, learn how to use it well, and it will be more than worth the investment of time and money.

Music Lives Forever (and So Do We)

Lita Ford in concert at the McGrath Amphitheatre, Cedar Rrapids, IA. Living proof that Rock and Roll Will Never Die.

Music brings a sort of immortality, at least to those who write and perform the music. Each generation has brought its own genre of “musical rebellion” into our society and culture. The youth of the day claim the music as their own, despite protests by the older generation about the quality of the music or the lifestyles of the musicians.

When we are young and full of vigor and rebelliousness, we tend to lock onto anything that reinforces our sense that we are special, we are not going to end up like the older generation. We will be unique individuals who won't bow down to the expectations of convention. Rather, we will make our marks on society and history by following new paths, with our favorite songs being the anthems we sing along the way.

A big part of how we establish our individuality is by listening to and loving the same songs that thousands, even millions of others listen to and love to establish their individuality. Hey, we are all human, and humans are at essence social animals.

Yet those songs do establish the “us” as being somewhat unique. They become woven into our lives and our identities as surely as what we are taught in school or the things we learn from living every day with our parents. Perhaps more so, because there are times where the songs represent what we WANT our lives to be, not the reality we have to deal with. Music can offer an escape from the mortality of a life of boredom or worse, abuse. For the brief moments we listen to our favorite songs or albums, we are forever young and free and immortal.

We get to our fifties, sixties or seventies and listen to those same songs we loved in our teens, twenties or thirties and our minds are flooded with memories of our youth. Music is like that. It can set memories ablaze as few other sensory inputs can. Personally, every time I hear a given Moody Blues (my favorite group) song, images fill my mind of the first time I heard the song, or other events tied to the song in some way. Even some painful memories, soothed by the passage of time, become bittersweet when I listen to an old song that had an impact on my life.

This illusion of youth and immortality, on the part of both the musicians and their fans, is probably a big reason why many keep touring, even after their voices have lost some range and power, they can no longer prance about the stage as they used to, and they just plain look too much like grandpa or grandma to maintain the image of the musician our parents hated when we were younger.

Many of us embraced certain groups in our youth for the very reason that they represented some sort of rebellion against the staid, old culture and values that our parents and grandparents represented. We reveled in the idea that our parents hated our favorite groups, from the style of music to the way they dressed. We smiled in secret (or not so secret) joy whenever the words “I can't stand their music. Why do you even listen to them?” come from the mouths of our beleaguered mothers and fathers.

Now some of those Musical Icons of Rebellion look like the sort of people our parents would invite to dinner.

Sure, onstage they maintain the sort of persona that they did 20, 30 or even 50 years ago. But offstage, the wrinkles become more apparent, and they just can't howl at the moon like the used to. Age has caught up with them in most of their lives, except for their music. It's the fact that when we hear their songs, or see them perform, we can share in that sense of immortal, eternal youth that was part of the kernel from which their musical sensibilities arose.

Take Lita Ford as an example. When she and her fellow members of “The Runaways” hit the scene in 1975, they represented something that those in “proper society” frowned upon: hard rocking women who were not ashamed to be open about their attitude, their sexuality and their strengths. The looked the male-dominated rock scene (and society) square in the eye and said “F*** YOU”. The Runaways were scary and sexy and dangerous and reassuring all at once, letting us know that those “bad girls” were dug or were in high school and college were not the whores and misfits our parents and school principals and pastors portrayed them as.

The Runaways were women who decided to be who they were, not who others expected them to be. The rest of us realized that was a message we needed to hear and embrace in our own lives. Yes, that was the original intent of nearly every conic rock group, to declare that they were new, different and unique. Sometimes that message caught on and influenced an entire generations, and other times the uniqueness was only appreciated by a small body of fans.

Then we fast forward back to our own lives as middle aged, parents and grandparents. We realize we are the same sort of people we defied and made fun of when we were in our teens and twenties. We can watch our own kids or grand kids dig Lady Gaga and think “I can't stand her music. Why do you even listen to her?” and justify that odd sort of irony by digging out our favorite oldies and saying “Now this is REAL music.”

That, in essence, is what musical immortality and eternal youth are, immersing ourselves in an unchanging reality that for the few minutes that “Cherry Bomb” or “Nights in White Satin” or “Under Pressure” or any one of thousands of other hits is playing, WE are the young person tuning out the cries of our parents to “turn that crap down”. We are who we thought we would always be when we were young: ever the youthful, hip, rebellious types who would never end up like our parents.

That's why seeing our icons of our youth perform as though they-and us-are still in our teens or twenties is so important our psyches. Seeing Lita Ford give the same sort of show she gave 30 years ago gives credence to the idea that “you're as young as you feel”. Hearing her perform “Cherry Bomb” with the same sass and vigor she displayed 40 years ago makes people realize that just as she and others said years ago that they weren't going to change who they were to please anyone, they haven't. As Lita haughtily sang “Hello daddy, hello mom, I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb!” I realized once again that my parents WERE wrong about the sort of girl I should date and someday marry. Hell, they were wrong about several things that what would make my life “successful”.

It's the times that have changed. Rebellion became fashion, to become the status quo. That's what transformed the songs of Lita Ford, or The Stones, or David Bowie from that music our parents demanded we turn down to classic, musical icons which represent what is now a normal part of society. (That, and the almost ambivalent idea that yesterday's rebellious rockers invariably become mainstays, then classic acts, without ever changing who they are. That's because in the end, the money controls what a lot of musicians can or cannot do.)

So, every time we listen to an old classic, we return to that moment when it first became a part of our lives, something that identified us as who we were, and are, as individuals. That's because, even though millions of other people consider that same song a favorite, no one else had the unique moment, the individual experience that occurred when they first heard that song.

No one else reacted exactly the same way I did when I heard "Cherry Bomb" for the first time, and so I and millions of others have a one-up bond to that, and so many other songs, which has in some way had a lifelong influence. "Cherry Bomb" invited me to appreciate a certain young woman at my high school in ways I hadn't before.

That's one reason why some songs are so special, so important. They are songs which just "do it" for us and make us stop whatever we are doing and turn up the radio when they come on. It's a part of who we were, and are, being replayed for 3 minutes, and we want to enjoy that sense of immortal, eternal youth as best we can.

It's this living embodiment within the lives of everyone who hears and comes to cherish a song that results in immortality for the performer. By extension, we revisit our youth, and so we come to love the songs even more.

Our kids or grand kids may appreciate the musicians we loved when we were their age, or they may say “I can't stand her music. How can you even listen to her?”

When we hear that, we can just smile, turn up the volume, and realize that in 20 or 30 or 50 years, they will be asking the same of their kids and grand kids, quite possibly when they have dug up old recordings from the 60s and 70s and rediscovered groups that made us all feel immortal and forever young when we first heard them.

Why Some People Shouldn't Be Journalists.

There was a time when it was expected, even demanded by some news outlets, that a journalist be as thorough in his research, as exhaustive in his analysis of information gathered from that research, and as unbiased as possible in presenting what he'd found. Writing it all up in an intelligently presented format was also expected. The only exceptions were editorials and “opinion pieces” in which the writers expressed their personal views, mainly in order to attract readers. Even in “Op-Ed” articles, research and accuracy were expected.

Failure to do so meant the risk of being accused of “yellow journalism, the misreporting of news in order to promote a biased agenda. There was a time when this was frowned upon by all but the most mercenary and disreputable of news outlets. Think of the days when “The National Enquirer” or “The Star” showed up on grocery store check out line displays. Most people realized they were full of junk, some of it obviously fictitious. These “tabloids” sold well, however, and so a trend was birthed.

Times have changed. With the internet, it seems that anyone can put up a website, gather some writers of questionable integrity and ability, and start making money off of click-throughs as people naturally respond to headlines intended to attract people, whether the articles are accurate, or even related to the headline.

A recent example was several online articles scoffing at the Pentagon paying $170,000 to “see why people spill coffee”. The short articles (many of the copy/pasted from other sources) tried to come across as snarky and superior by pointing out that people spill coffee because they are clumsy. What these writers either failed to find out, didn't care about, or intentionally omitted was the study was to find out what neuro-muscular functions combined to either spill or successfully carry a full cup of coffee.

“So what?” people asked. Answer: This was a practical way to gather data that can help in the engineering of prosthetic devices and remote/robotic machines, as well as possible applications in therapy and treatment of numerous neurological or muscular disorders. A “real” journalist would have uncovered this aspect of the study, researched it, and instead of trying to get hits by reporting the negative side of it, would have announced that new research involving something as simple as carrying a cup of coffee might aid amputees, soldiers in action, and those suffering from illnesses such as Muscular Dystrophy or various palsies.

Coincidentally (or not) a similar article resurfaced about a photo of a group of high school students engrossed in their phones with a magnificent Rembrandt painting in the background. This photo was originally presented as an example of how today's young people are missing out on great things in life because they are busy with their smart phones Many people “liked” and “shared” the photo on Facebook and other social media, smugly harrumphing that they are not like that (even though there's a 65% chance they were using their own smart phones to access social media).

The problem with this interpretation of the photo is that it's completely wrong. These kids were using the museums interactive smart phone application to learn more about the paintings they were viewing. Again, some careful research and honest reporting would have presented an article citing the favorable use of smart phones in education.

I'm not even going to touch on the plethora of “news” sources which intentionally engage in “yellow journalism” and propaganda. That would take a book of several hundred pages to address. The phenomenon that leads to all these types of “journalism” consists of some common elements.

• The Money Factor. Sensationalized, biased or articles that cast a bad light on negatively viewed people or institutions generate sales, or at least hits on a web page where it's hoped people will intentionally (or through manipulation) click on ads. Websites attract sponsoring ads based on the number of page views and unique hits they can generate. So, the more they can get people to click on links to their sites, even if the link involves a misleading headline or untrue article, the more money they can make. Journalistic integrity has always clashed with the drive to make a news outlet profitable(which has always depended on advertising). Today, integrity has fallen by the wayside as our society of greed has made profit the primary motivator.
• The drive for power and influence. Publishers have always had a desire to make a mark on society and in politics. For the most part, laws regarding libel and slander helped keep print sources in check, while the Fairness Doctrine of 1949 was the FCC's attempt to address broadcast news sources. However, there have always been many clever ways to circumvent any laws or regulations intended to promote and ensure balanced, objective reporting. The time when most journalists had the personal integrity to avoid such techniques has passed, and making sure the boss is happy, even at the expense of journalistic integrity, weighs heavily on even the most “honest” of journalists.
• Give John. Q. Public what he wants. We have devolved into a society inordinately influenced by Narcissism, competitiveness and negativity. People have reached a point where they prefer to have subjective opinions reinforced no matter how much misinformation or outright lies they have to embrace to do so. In the articles cited at the beginning of this essay, the Pentagon and young people with smart phones are viewed with antagonism by a lot of people. So, the goal of the writers was to appeal to that antagonism, with any regard for accuracy or fairness being of little or no importance.

There was a time when journalists would report the news as accurately and honestly as possible. There are a few who still do so. They are men and women who will write articles they know will be unpopular with many people, but they feel what they have to say must be said. Their goal is to inform and educate, even if people don't want to be informed or educated. They are far outnumbered by hacks who cannot, with honesty, call themselves journalists in the conventional acceptance of that term.

What makes this situation even worse is some people consider their biased articles full of misinformation or omitted facts to be fair and balanced. They have allowed their own antagonism toward those of differing views, whether ideological, political, social, economic, religious etc. to determine what they view as worth reporting or not. This is “yellow journalism” at its worst, when writers forego honesty and factual reporting simply to connect with and influence those who are willfully ignorant. They're the journalistic equivalents of vultures circling above a carcass, thus helping jackals to find a putrid but easily obtained meal.

It it true that no one can be completely objective in reporting news or presenting an opinion. That's simply human nature. However, when we consider subjective, misleading or uninformed reportage to be some sort of virtue, we have done ourselves a great disservice as a nation and as a society. While truth can set people free, accepting lies as truth is a sure way into bondage.