As usual, I spent this past Saturday evening at a Border's outlet in Mesa, Arizona, a couple of miles from where I live; and again, as usual, I spent a considerable portion of that evening browsing through an assortment of books on photography. Sometimes I buy them, and sometimes I do nothing more than browse through the volumes, or read up on some new technique I am trying to master. (Sometimes I also fantasize about new and expensive pieces of equipment, lenses and such, to which I would very much like to receive unencumbered title in fee simple absolute.) In my own photography, I always try to capture things that are beautiful and inspiring, and by this method I continue to add, bit by bit, to my storehouse of knowledge and skill. And as I think just about everyone acquainted with me knows by now, dance photography has become one of my specialties. If I can't be out on the floor dancing, being present to photograph the event is, in my view, the next best thing, and a rather close second at that.
I also like to complain to others about "rude people" who, all too routinely, step ahead of me in line and take the pictures I want to take myself. I see these all the time in assorted books and magazines. It is true that in most cases, the pictures which thus arouse my ire and indignation have been taken in places I have never even visited; but in my view, that consideration is immaterial, as I still wanted to be the one to take the photographs in question as soon as I got around to visiting the locales where the images were captured.
The image shown here is the source of my latest complaint. This one is of the late Cyd Charisse. I discovered it during my most recent Border's visit and spent a good deal of time pondering and admiring the photo, even as I stewed over the fact that, once again, some rude individual beat me to the draw. I wish I could have taken this one myself -- and never mind that it just happens to have been taken in 1953, the year I was born.
However, perhaps I've already avenged myself of this rude photographer, who I'm sure never had the opportunity to photograph Debi in action, as I have done: