Seeing is believing. Or NOT.

I probably need a new publicity photo. But my last photo session was so traumatic. . .

The photographer I used had all the latest digital equipment and after the sitting I was ushered into a room with a sofa and a movie screen. . . and forced to scrutinize my photo at 9000 magnifications. !!! Nobody should have to look at their own pores, chin hair, and developing wrinkles at 10,000-foot-woman size! The sofa was obviously there to catch customers who faint from horror. The guy asked if I wanted him to "take care" of those lines around my eyes and maybe smooth out my skin tone and make my teeth whiter.

I left reeling. It took two iced Vente no-fat triple-shot caramel no-whip macchiatos and the sacrifice of batallions of miscellaneous cookies to make the horror dissipate

But it's not just me. The pressure is on everyone, everywhere to look better than they actually do. Take Katie, here. Perky, adorable, sweet, believable, earnest anchor of the CBS news machine. She who should be counted on to give us the Truth. . . as in "the facts, m'am." CBS apparently felt she needed a digital nip and tuck and the photo on the right, below, was the result.

When this came out, it was quite the story. They had slimmed Katie's waist. Without her permission or even knowledge! They blythely doctor her image, then expect us to believe that they won't doctor the "news" she gives us. Maybe I'm making too much of this. . . but even in confessing that they doctored the photo, they didn't tell the truth. Waist? Yeah. And arms. And chin. And whitened her teeth. And got rid of a few age spots on her hands. See for yourself!

You know, don't you, that many courts of law now refuse to accept photographs or video as evidence? The only photos routinely allowed are those from the crime scene investigators themselves. Every other image is considered potentially altered. How much of what we see can we count on to be real these days? How sure can we be of what we know and don't know?

I'm guessing we really went to the moon. . . because that was back in 1969 and they didn't have digital correction then. Still, some people say the whole lunar landing thing was shot in a studio. But, that "alien autopsy". . . I'm starting to think that might have been a fake. And all of those pictures of microbes and sea life in National Geographic. . . who's to say those aren't just the brainchild of some nerd in the basement with good computer equipment? And stars. . . I mean, do you ever really look at the night sky? Did you actually see Haley's comet when it came by in 1986? Neither did I. This is supposed to be a picture. . .

See what I mean? It looks like somebody spilled paint and tried to wipe it up. And I'm starting to worry that some of my favorite hunks and starlets might not be quite so. . . desirable.

And if you really want to see depressing, check out this unretouched photo of Faith Hill from her Redbook cover. jezebel.com/gossip/photoshop-of.../heres-our-winner-redbook-shatters-our-faith-in-well-not-publishing-but-maybe-god-278919.php

Sigh. When they have to "improve" Faith Hill, we're all in trouble.

Getting serious for a moment. It used to be that a photograph was a moment captured in time. . . actions and images caught and stored as memory. Dependable. Lasting. For good or for ill.

It seems that we've traded "certainty" for "possibility" in our lives. Everything is possible. . . but everything is also open to revision. Memories, ideas, actions, and images can all be modified with the click of a button or the slide of a mouse. That's a lot of power at our fingertips, but that freedom comes with a price. And a responsibility: the burden of vigilant skepticism. Who do we trust to tell us the truth? Do we recognize the truth when we hear or see it?

Okay. . . this is what happens when I stay up writing waaaaay after midnight.

Back to my original problem. To airbrush or not to airbrush?

Is it better to look great in print and on line and risk disappointing people in person, or to just bare it all and let people see all the glorious human flaws from the start? Considering that there may be a bias against "aging" writers, is it wise to let the gray and crow's feet show?

What about you? Have you ever met or "encountered" a celebrity in person that shocked or disappointed you? Who/what do you trust these days to tell you the truth? What are your trusted sources?

The woes of the family photographer. . .

I inherited it from my mom. The Kodak gene. Really.

Or maybe it was just a peculiar version of the Stockholm Syndrome. . . where I was held captive by my mother's "photographing the family" obsession long enough to begin to identify with my captor. Now I am the one yelling "put down that drumstick and smile!"

Yep, that's my role in the family. Photographic Tyrant. The one who won't let anybody sit down at the Thanksgiving table or start eating until the official snapshots have been made. Not a nice job, exactly, but somebody's gotta do it. Those piles of fuzzy, off-center photographs don't just make themselves, you know. Somebody has to interrupt everything and make themselves the center of attention by calling for everyone to stop what they're doing, pose, and smile as if they're having the time of their lives.

The fun part of this stage of my life is that I have a whole new generation of victims to capture. Grandchildren-- the subjects of many, if not most, amateur photography excesses. And if you start them early enough, they seem to enjoy the process and pose endlessly... until they drop of exhaustion and just go to sleep.


This Christmas I got an early present. . . a digital camcorder! And until now I had no real sympathy for the problems encountered by filmmakers. This is a whole new perspective on picture taking. And on children. Those suckers move FAST. My first attempts seem to show a lot of the backs of kids' heads. I have become a master of "after the fact."

Worse yet, I have nothing to hold in my hands afterward. . . except a camera with a teeny tiny view screen.

Enter: my technical consultant who says I can download my "films" to my computer and see my mistakes large and in brilliant color and clarity. I am terrified to see what I have wrought.

Ratz.

After a whole morning of frustration, I won't be able to bring you any of my fabulous video. Sorry. Maybe later, after my video guy reprograms me to be more computer friendly.

Anyway, I now have video of one of my grandsons being held upside down by his uncle for three whole minutes. . . giggling maniacally the whole time. I have video of another grandson doing a mountain-man clog dance while mugging for the camera. And I have video of youngest grandgirl eating cookies and climbing all over her brothers' train table and looking adorable in a suit of barber-pole candystripes that makes me dizzy when she twirls around and around. There are also too many photos of grandchildren running around like mad in mere underwear. Anybody else's kids or grandkids seem to HATE wearing clothes. . . even in the dead of winter? And there is the obligatory I-didn't-know-the-camera-was-on shot of beige carpet. . . while an enraged three-year-old screams in the background because his new toy got swiped.

Come to think of it, maybe it's best I that I can't share with you any of my new creations. The documentation of the chaos of family life and long-distance Christmas visits may best be left to the perpetrators themselves.

Who is the designated photographer/picture-Nazi in your family? Is there a trend to the pictures he or she takes? Do your kids or grands have favorite poses they always strike-- favorite silly faces they always make? Do you keep your pictures in (a) the original developers' envelopes, (b) wherever there's a place to stuff them, (c)boxes in the closet, or (d) gorgeous leather albums and themed scrapbooks? And if it's "D" how the heck do you do it?