I took 129 photos whilst in DC. Here is one of the two I'm actually in. Kevin is in only two as well. He's developed an aversion to his picture being taken (yeah, I know, that's a passive sentence. So what? What's the big deal? I'm an English teacher, and I don't know what the hell is so wrong with writing in the passive voice...ahem).
It was odd, to say the least. I would take out my camera, god how I love digital, and start snapping away, and he'd look away, or put his hand in front of the camera.
"You already know what I look like." was a comment I heard when I protested. "There's enough photos of me in front of the White House."
Yeah, but not in my possession.
I truly didn't get it. It was as if he was being a jerk on purpose. He has photos in frames all over his house, photo albums of he and his friends and his many travels set out in both the living room and the tv room (yeah, he has a big house), yet he didn't want me taking any pictures.
You know what it felt like? Like he didn't want me to have any pictures of him. And certainly no pictures of the two of us together. It really did. As if he was ashamed that anyone might see that he was friends with me, and he had to avoid any evidence that might remain of my visit.
Oh Becky, you're being so dramatic, you say.
Have I mentioned my nerd complex? Yep. I know it's unreasonable, but everytime something like this happens, I feel like it's somehow my fault when someone acts weird or rude or cold to me. Then I try even harder to not bother the person, instead of calling them on their shit.
Don't worry, I did try to call Kevin on his shit. At one point, after one of his charming comments about my attempted photo taking, I pushed him gently, and said, "You can really be such an ass... what's the deal?"
He turned to me, with a poker-face, and said with a flat voice, "You don't need to take my picture."
Okay, so we all have those friends who really hate having their photo taken. We know them. I'm not one of them. I love having my photo taken. I'm not particularly photogenic (my mother likes to say it's because my face is always in motion), but my theory is that the more pictures taken of me, the more chances I have of one of 'em being a good one. Just my way.
So, after I get home the other night, I was going through some old photos, and found at least 35-40 taken during the last 20 years of visits with Kevin. Even some from high school... in all the photos, there is a laughing, goofing around, smiling, posing, Kevin. Skiing at Breckenridge, siteseeing in Boston, on the ferry to the Statue of Liberty in New York, out to dinner in Atlanta.
What's happened to my friend? What's happened to my charming, successful, witty, intelligent friend?
Is this what happens when we get what we want? We stop laughing and smiling? We don't want pictures taken of ourselves anymore? We treat our oldest and dearest friends as annoying acquaintances?
I don't know. I love Kevin. I want him to be happy. But I don't know what to do.
3 comments:
I know several people who hate having their pictures taken. I always tell them, "This picture isn't for you, it's for me. It's a gift you can give me of yourself when I can't be with you." If that doesn't work, turn on the tears. And if THAT doesn't work, say "Fine. I'm just going to have to enlarge a picture of you that you look dweeby in!"
I love getting my picture taken. Not because I love how I look or anything like that, but I feel flattered when someone takes a snap of me.
Oh and the fact that you are an English teacher unnerves me, because I am grammatically challenged and don't remember squat about proper sentence structure.
No. He actually rolled his eyeballs when I said I had one.
That's a really cute picture of you. In my opinion.
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