I have never really been a fan of having my picture taken, driven likely by the fact that I don’t believe I make for very good photos. That said, I don’t just run and hide every time someone pops out with a camera. Sure, I’ve been tagged a few times on facebook or wherever, and I guess it just goes with the territory.
My indifference to being photographed has extended to actually taking pictures. I can’t count the number of times that someone from the states has complained that I never seemed to have any photos from Frankfurt or somewhere else in Germany. However, I never really used a camera when I lived in the states, either. It just isn’t my thing.
Truth be told, I’m kind of on the fence. On one hand, I’m always kind of glad that someone does actually seem to have a camera around, thus saving me the hassle. My mother is pretty good about snapping lot of pix at just about every family event. Likewise, friends on both sides of the ocean seem to have the knack for documenting the right events in the right fashion.
Sometimes, though, I get the feeling that people kind of over do it. I think during the last four years of commuting to work each day by train, maybe three times in TOTAL did I not see someone taking a photo of the regionalbahn or the intercity train. Yes, the very train that runs about every half hour between Frankfurt and Darmstadt. Hardly the necessary picture to put up on the wall…
True, I live in a city which has a lot of tourism, but I’m really speaking more about those moments that happen in regular daily. I saw a guy taking a picture of somebody entering the Apotheke the other morning; is it so necessary to document the purchase of foot powder or whatever?
OK, I’m not really trying to pass judgment here. I personally prefer trying (stress the word “trying”) to relate the experience through writing. Of course, I don’t try to describe it so much as I try to help the reader visualize it, simply by connecting it to something the reader already knows. Hence the reason I’ve always tended to say that the typical grocery store in my neighborhood is pretty much exactly like the Whole Foods Market on Lower Greenville, as opposed to me trying to upload a photo of my local Rewe for everyone to see.
Enough of me being off on a tangent; I was just trying to make the point that I like relating events better without pictures, leaving the reader to imagine the scene themselves.
So, the events of last week were all centered on my final few days of work. It was a wee bit emotional, and I’m rather glad that no one popped out a camera.
As you can imagine, I spent more time smoking and joking in the office than I did actually doing “work.” After all, I was in exit mode, and more interested in making sure I’d handed things over to my team. The humorous bit is that my job has always been more about how I did things as opposed to exactly what I did. Processes are pretty easy to document, since the job itself was relatively straightforward. The challenge came from trying to explain the “art” of actually doing the job. Style comes from the individual and tends to vary from one person to the next, even though the results will pretty much be the same.
What I found to be a bit touching was that my colleagues seemed a bit distraught that I was soon to be out of the, er, picture. They were concerned that the support was going away, so I really spent my final days just reassuring everyone that they already had the knowhow, the right answers; they are more than capable of carrying on without me.
What made things emotional was when my team gathered and presented me with a card telling me just how great an influence I had had with them; an influence that they found very special, and one they would not forget.
Yep, that choked me up.
I spent four years building a team, building a program, and suddenly, I am no longer there. It meant a lot to see that everyone (er, save the firing manager) was very gracious and appreciative of my efforts.
So that was last Thursday afternoon. It was nice to go out on a high. I was glad to be leaving, but a bit sad to leave the group, the customers, and the experience. A handful of external phone calls and emails from the customer and partners expressing gratitude and well wishes just made the day better.
I’d planned to go out with my head high, with a smile on my face, to ride off into the sunset. I did just that, though the crowded bus didn’t have such a dramatic effect.
Last Friday, I officially started vacation, which officially extends until the end of November. How long I extend my vacation beyond that is up to me. So far, so good.
Relaxed and smiling are two words which have reentered my vocabulary, and it’s quite nice to have them back.
I’ll relate more on the vacation time in the coming weeks, but focus is on stress free, with a capital fuck yeah. Remind me to relate the story about chopping up a habanero pepper, then inadvertently rubbing my eye; whatever was I thinking???
Excusing that unplanned incident (which I’ve written off as a moronic glitch), the kind of stress I’m experiencing right now involves deciding if I should have a coffee, then a shower, or a shower, then a coffee each morning. Not bad.
A couple of weeks ago, I was photographed at a birthday party. Someone later commented just how anxious and worked up I looked in that pic.
I will say that one can notice a whole lot from a photo, particularly someone’s true emotions. I just saw some pictures of a recent wedding where everyone, dressed in elegance, and simply beautiful (like, knock you over beautiful), looked really really happy.
The cool thing is that if I happen to get caught in a photo right now, myself, people will be saying the exact same thing about me.
Keep the faith.
bryan
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