Pappa Razzi and Uncle Razzi

I had hoped that the day a guy jumped out of a bush with a camera or rode backwards on a motorcycle to video tape me, I would be leaving Spago.  No such luck, yet. For now I am one of the hunted participants in a four day cycling event where you are by far at your least photogenic.

Two dudes chase you around for four days during this endurance cycling event like they have a deadline to submit a stars without makeup pictorial.  I don’t care who you are, if the word endurance is involved in any way, it’s not going to be pretty.  I’ve always wondered what my face looks like when i’m in incredible amounts of pain in case i’m ever in an accident and the paramedics are cute.  Now I know because there is footage.  I look like hell.  Spray me with Chanel and share that fantasy.

When photographing athletes, the rule seems to be that you get down low.  I see a lot of scootching from our photographer Callum.  It’s all very crouching tiger, hidden dragon and it’s not because he’s Asian, it’s because he’s sneaky.  Tigers and dragons don’t do trees so unfortunately there are no shots where any of us are gazing skyward, the ultimate chin concealer move.  I’ve been told in the past when getting head shots to stand completely perpendicular to the camera and then twist at the torso so your midsection in completely minimized.  Never have I had a photographer say “Come at me dead on” until the croucher. Damn him and his telephoto lens, damn him.

As much as the surprise still shots can sting, adding movement and sound to your efforts are just so much more esteem building!  I do a fair amount of swearing on some of the hills which I now have to monitor because it’s pretty easy to lip read a four letter word.  If you’ve ever been at a cottage, tried to sneak out in your “un-da-wears”  to hit the outhouse and every motion light on the property suddenly comes on as soon as you step out into the night, that’s what it feels like to have a dude with a video camera appear next to you riding backwards on a motorbike while you are at your dampest.  I would not be surprised to see Victor whiz by on a broom yelling “I’ll get you my Sweaty, and your little dog too!”

As much as the cycling is pegged as the endurance part, dedicating four days of getting this event on film is a tenacious endeavor in and of itself. Everyone is expertly photographed, countless hours of editing and organizing ensue, the spirit of the event is captured beautifully and the memories are kept and shared.

I look forward to seeing them again this year as i’m considering hiring a stylist and a hair/makeup person to meet me at Trent University and travel with me the entire four days.

If not that, i’ll be pulling into a salon in Peterborough and shaving my head.  And as cyclists and celebrities alike,  I won’t be wearing any “un-da-wears!” Pappa-Papparazzi.


2 thoughts on “Pappa Razzi and Uncle Razzi

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