My father was a photographer for CBS and I can remember when I was little his coming home and telling me about the story he had worked on that day. Civil Rights marches and nuclear protests and sometimes really good things like an antique dealer in New Orleans who told him that he never wore socks or underwear. “He wasn’t wearing any socks,” my father smiled as he wove the tale of the gentleman’s second career. (I do not remember the dealer’s original occupation, but at the time the idea of not wearing underwear must have seemed significant.)
It was the stories of these people’s lives that made me want to go into journalism. The idea that one’s job could entail learning something new every single day seemed wonderful. He told me loads of the most unwonderful things about the business, but they did not seem to outweigh the excitement.
I am off to Chicago today to preview and attend the Wright Important Design Auction in Chicago. I am off on an adventure.