Under the Photgrapher

My wife and I sit occasionally at the lakefront in Milwaukee. I often have my camera with me. I spent a lot of time taking landscape pictures of landscapes during our travels together and on many occasions I have seen couples holding cell phones at arms length trying to take selfies that look like the painting called Whistlers Mother. 

You know the one, the old couple standing in front of a house in Iowa. The man has a pitchfork in his hand and neither one are smiling. 

Janet would nudge me and say, "Please help them." I found myself smiling and would approach them with my hand out and say, "If you give me your camera I will take your picture." Then I would encourage them to strike a different pose, compose the shot to include a pleasing background, one I would be proud of and take their picture. Then I would turn away and smirk as they insisted I give them their cell phone back. I would remind them of our deal, "If you give me your camera I will take your picture." 

People would laugh and thank me for helping them out. 

One day Janet observed how close I was able to get to total strangers and how much they trusted me with their cell phones.

The Photographer became a book about a serial killer shortly after. I did make the killer female because women appear less threatening than a man.