I’m such a lousy card player. I was running two pair, king high, and Kelby comes back at me with a full house and there goes Brad. Damn. It was worth calling, though, cause Scott had wagered RC Concepcion.
Me and RC hanging together wouldn’t have worked, though, cause both of our businesses would go straight down the tubes. We’d be playing with da baby too much. The beautiful Sabine is almost 2 months already.
We’d be like, wake the baby, wake the baby! Our long suffering wives would just roll their eyes. Annie and I are so happy for RC and Jen. A beautiful baby girl that Jen can put in pointe shoes real soon, and RC can buy pretty dresses and remote controlled monster trucks.
That’s what I was doing with my first, Caitlin. Kept bringing home Tonka toys, oversize cowboy hats and robots and stuff. My ex would just shake her head. “She’s a girl, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I’m really happy for Brad, cause the NAPP gang is a great group of folks and he’ll have fun and his already considerable skills will grow enormously.
Have to admit I threw him in the deep end from the get go. He blogged about his first outing with the Coast Guard, trying to boom a SB unit out over the waves while I’m in the water with a couple of Coastie rescue swimmers. I kept asking those guys, “Hey, you guys okay? Everything alright?” which is a constant reflex action with my subjects, cause I always want them to feel good and be comfortable.
Then I realized how stupid that was cause these guys are waterborne supermen and the only one who was gonna drown out there was the idiot with the D2XS. Not exactly a flotation device.
Cool thing about that night was that my good friend Tom Sperduto was out there with us. Tom is a helluva shooter and a photo whirlwind, and he got this.
I’m bobbing around in the drink and Tom was shooting from a Coast Guard rescue boat. This frame will be the cover of a book set for release next year called Rescue Warriors.
From the Atlantic Ocean, we embarked on a three week road trip that brought us through DC, So. Carolina, Ohio, Arizona, Washington, Texas, Georgia and finally, Mexico. Along the way, Brad tried to get on a plane with 3 knives in the Moose pack which drew great attention from those folks in the TSA, lost his passport, lost his wallet (in Mexico), and, in trying to search for the wallet, stood up under a tractor trailer and creased his forehead to the tune of about 12 or so stitches.
Ohio, making like Greg Odon…….
In Georgia, making like a mad scientist….
Then off to Mexico for the Baja….
I got a rap on my hotel door about midnight. “Brad’s in the hospital!”
I go into the emergency room and had one of those Something About Mary moments, you know the frank and beans scene, where everybody’s trying to take a look and be sorta helpful? I thought, okay, can’t be that bad, and I looked over the surgeon’s shoulder.
“Holy shit!” There was Brad’s cranium. Dang! He really nailed himself.
I felt bad, but not that bad, cause the road is a tough task master, and I hadda get up around 4 that morning and get ready to cover the Baja 1000, which is well and truly one of the most miserably difficult things you might ever want to shoot. I’ve always told my assistants that if they falter, flag, or bog down, I’ll leave ’em by the side of the road. “Better you die now than we both die later,” is the rationale I offer. I say this with the most engaging of smiles. They think I’m kidding.
As you might imagine, I was pretty much outta patience with my young jedi, so much so that if the doc had offered me a DNR form I just mighta signed it, right there and then. (“Yeah, doc, just put him down. I know this is what he’d want…..”)
Glad I didn’t, though, cause Brad developed into a terrific studio and road assistant who can work the computer as well as a D3. He’ll be missed around here. Nigel’s favorite spot in the house was down in Brad’s room, by the glass doors to the backyard, where there’s a stone wall that’s like an apartment complex for chipmunks. Nigel spent hours down there, staring at these little guys, probably writing a recipe book in his head. Nigel watching chipmunks is like me watching Monty Python. Just can’t do it enough.
So Annie, Nigel, Lynn and I will miss him. (So will Ari. Have to mention Ari, or Annie will get upset with me. Nigel and Ari are both her boys, and she loves them equally, whereas I am quite obvious about liking Nigel better. Nigel is just a big lug with a enormous heart and a dog like capacity for companionship and affection. Ari is very cat like. Kind of pissy and standoffish. Plus I’m convinced he’s got gender issues, which makes him even more difficult.)
Another page turns in the adventure book. He’s bound for Tampa this weekend, and starts with Scott, who, being the teacher and friend that he is, will open doors for Brad that I can’t even find the keys for.
Via con Dios, my well traveled friend. Just the beginning of another kind of road trip. It’s already a long way from Jackson, Tennessee. More tk.