From my desk, I overhear all photo picks. Only a low wall separates my office from Photo Editor Pete Taras’ office, where all the photo picking for the magazine occurs.
I will attempt to dramatize a scene I just overheard. The characters are:
Pete (Photo Editor, usually subdued during photo picks)
Checkwood (Senior Editor/Photographer, typically very opinionated about photos)
Chris (Editor, likes almost everything)
Here’s what a typical photo pick sounds like:
Pete: Checkwood, come here and look at some photos.
Checkwood: Okay, just a second.
(a minute passes)
Checkwood: Which photo?
Checkwood: These? What are they for?
Pete: Just tell me which ones you like.
Checkwood: Hate, hate, love, hate, hate, hate, hate, love, love, love, hate, hate, hate, hate (pause) like, hate …
Checkwood: Hate hate.
Pete: Hate hate? It’s a really good photo!
Checkwood: Nope. Hate.
Editor’s note: Joel has greatly overexaggerated my hate count—I actually loved quite a bit more photos than what’s written. I only hated three or four.—AC
(Chris doesn’t hear Checkwood. Probably has headphones on. Earlier in the day he exclaimed boldly that he would only be listening to Interpol today. He also said Bowie was better than the Beatles.)
Checkwood: Come here and look at some photos.
Chris: What are they of?
Checkwood: Just come here!
Chris: Which ones?
Checkwood: This one.
Chris: This one?
Checkwood: Do you hate it?
Pete: It’s a good photo.
Checkwood: I’m talking to Chris. Chris, we have to form an alliance against this photo.
Chris: It’s okay.
Checkwood: No, it’s not.
Chris: I don’t really care.
Checkwood: If you pick it, I’ll make sure you will never hear a Cannabible reading again.
Checkwood: Don’t run this photo, Pete.
Pete: Don’t worry.
Checkwood: Hate, hate, love, love, love, love, hate, love …