As I was driving home from my steadicam trial by fire this afternoon, I was struck by the rank irony (and in some sense hypocrisy) of what I’d just done. Anti-establishment, sports-aversed, clan-phobic, HVAC-loving recluse that I am, I’d just spent an entire morning and part of an afternoon documenting a full-on celebration of athleticism, military might and cultural heritage held on a crowded parade field ‘neath the cruel Carolina sun.
Money, ladies and gentlemen. I … am … a … whore.
The footage from this three-day adventure is less than stellar, I might add. So much less so, in fact, that I might not charge for my services. Except that I’ve already figured the income into my budget. The tests just keep on coming, don’t they?
May 29 update: Okay, I overreacted. The footage was good enough to produce a solid 60-second promo, embedded here. And the client is happy. End of story.