9-19-04

In January of 2004, I had the opportunity to photograph Trace Adkins and Buddy Jewel at one of their performances. I thought it would be like all the other gigs I had done, however, once again, I was wrong. This time the show was at a casino, and they were performing 2 shows. I could pick which one I wanted to shoot, but not before they knew just about everything about me down to my bra size. Don't get me wrong, I actually prefer management that is thorough in their process of approving passes. Strict procedures assure me no one will "forget" my pass.

The day before the concert I received a call from Trace Adkins management to confirm I would be there. They also gave me the tour manager's cell number just in case I needed it. Wow, these people were definitely on the ball. I knew I would have to operate in the same manner.

I arrived to shoot the first show and was amazed to find the venue as small as it was. I mean it was small. 400 people small with chairs in front of the stage and no pit. How was I going to get in front of the people sitting in their chairs to shoot? Where were the security guards to protect me from the moshers? Ok, maybe there aren't exactly any moshers for Trace Adkins, but still. I like my protective barrier. The "pit" protects me from flying bra's, screaming fans, and gives me the freedom to move around to get my shots. The security guards also protect me. They catch the flying bodies that come to the front of the stage and remove them promptly. I love them, they are my friends.

I looked around desperately for a potential "Bubba" who might be assigned to the stage area. No "Bubba's" , only senior citizens in casino uniforms. As I was scoping out the situation, the tour manager approached me and told me I could shoot both shows as their guest. Awesome! Wait, did I have enough film for both? I would make it last. I could do this, I thought. Before he left I asked if there was a specific area he wanted me to shoot from. His answer surprised and scared me. He said, "Shoot anywhere you want, for as long as you want." HOLY UNLIMITED RULES BATMAN! Usually it's one show, first 3 songs, no flash. I had both shows and could shoot all night long! This was impressive and definitely a time I wish I had about 40 rolls of film in my bag. But how was I going to do it with no "Bubba" to protect me? I would have to squat in between the aisles and in the front row. I had a plan.

I was waiting for the first show , when I overheard one of the casino personnel (AKA Colonel Sanders) warn an elderly group of women to behave. He specifically said, "I don't want any trouble from you ladies now, ya hear?". These women were at least 75 years old if not older. Their response made me choke on my spit. "Oh, don't you worry about us, we'll wait to throw our bra's and panties until Trace comes out." Good gawd! Was I going to be in the line of fire? Would I be a walking target for the geriatric undergarments? Were they joking? I prayed frantically that they were because if they weren't, I was very scared.

The show was about to begin and I found myself squatting like a woman giving birth in the front row. I explained to the fans I would not be there long and I waited, fearing the impending granny panties to land on my head. To my surprise everything went off without a hitch. I shot Buddy Jewel first and then Trace Adkins. I maneuvered around effortlessly without disturbing the fans, and got some great shots. I was pleased at my success minus my usual standard of protection and looked forward to the second show.

During the second show, I found myself squatting, once again, front and center. Buddy Jewel came out for a second time and I began shooting. I found the perfect spot in the center aisle approximately twenty feet from Buddy himself. Click, click, click, PLOP. I had somehow fallen backwards on my ass. It was dark and everyone's attention was on Buddy so no one saw. Excellent, I thought. As I fell, I kept clicking and tried to regain my composure and position. At this point I realized Buddy was smiling as he was singing, the smiling turned to chuckles, and eventually he just stopped singing. I started looking around to see what was so funny. The voice said, "You OK?" I looked behind me, to the side of me and beyond. "You OK?" He was talking to me! Lord no! He saw me fall! The next moments felt as if they lasted an eternity. Why did I have to fall and where was my "Bubba" to catch me? Buddy Jewel began to talk to me personally with the audience listening in, eyes focused on me. Exactly the opposite of what I was trying to accomplish. "I saw ya fall there, you alright?" to which I gave the thumbs up and looked for a chair to crawl under. I assumed he would return to his performance and forget I was there, but no, he couldn't let it go. With a big shit eating grin, he said "Well hurry up then. Go on, take my picture!" His smile was enormous and he actually posed for the shot, so hiding under the chair was out of the question. The photo's you see are before and after "the fall".

I managed to slither out of the limelight and left the performance area. I needed a soda and a smoke to help clear my face of the semi-permanent red it had become. I was in the lobby area when another old fart approached me and asked if I was the young lady all the fuss was about. Nope, wasn't me, but I could tell he knew I was lying. The laughing/coughing gave it away. It is my job to be discrete, almost invisible, and here I had become part of the show. Nice Jenn, real nice, babe.

It was almost time for Trace to come on again and I was brainstorming on new positions to get my shots from. I could only hope this time I would be invisible. I made my way to the front again and sat on the floor. A woman in a wheelchair, who was seated directly in front of the stage, approached me. She commented on the wonderful job I did and asked for copies of the photo's. I thanked her and apologized that I was not able to give copies out. She looked disappointed, but seemed to understand. The show began and I found a safe position close to the lady in the wheelchair. I stayed there until "it" happened.

All of a sudden I smelled something. Something real bad. The putrid fumes of a gigantic fart had made it's way to my nostrils. I hoped it would dissipate quickly, but it got worse. For the love of God, who comes to a concert and farts? At this point I realized if I could smell it that bad, everyone on stage could smell it too. There was no way in Hell I was sticking around to be accused of cutting that particular cheese. I got the heck out of there. It was then I passed the woman in the wheelchair, that I realized what had happened. She had a colostomy bag and had taken a nice big shit. I actually felt bad for her, because I know I would be terrified of being at my favorite concert, having no use of my bowels, and taking a crap during my favorite song. I did not feel it was my duty to alert her of her full bag of poop, so I left with a smile and prayed for the folks on stage and in the front row.

The show was over, and I was putting my equipment away when Buddy Jewel approached me.

"You know I was just joking when you fell, right?" He asked.

I smiled and said "I really didn't think anyone saw". Buddy chuckled and said it was funny as hell and he couldn't help but make fun of me. How exciting to entertain the entertainer.

I could not believe how smoothly the first show had gone, and how extremely different the 2nd show was. I fell on my ass and then stood in a cloud of poop perfume. Is there a theme here? I was beginning to feel bad for the disabled woman, and actually started feeling guilty for laughing about it. But I soon came to the conclusion that if it had been me, I would have wheeled myself out of there. Her sense of smell was not disabled, so why did she stick around? She was going to blame me! She was mad I would not give her copies of the photo's! I should have said yes, but, alas, I refused her request and paid for it dearly.

I analyzed that evening and it's events to see what I could learn from them. Maybe shooting one show is best. Be prepared for anything. It is honorable to overcome adversity. Always be sure to thank the "Bubba's" in your life, they are invaluable. I learned to never ever try balancing in the squatting position and never piss off someone with a colostomy bag . All in all, I learned a lot.