This weekend I was in Reno for the Great Reno Balloon Race, a hot air
balloon event I have enjoyed a few times before. This morning I had a
rather disconcerting incident, which is why I'm blogging for the first
time in a long time. No way I can describe what happened in a tweet.
Each day at the Balloon Race begins at 5 AM. That means arriving at
the park and getting onto the field well in advance. This morning I
was in place at 4:05 AM, with my tripod set up and my camera ready to
go. Trust me when I say that I was pretty much alone at that hour.
There was hardly anyone in sight yet.
The first event is called the glow show, where a few tethered balloons
perform a light show to musical accompaniment. That's followed by the
Dawn Patrol, a handful of balloons whose pilots are certified for
night takeoffs. By this point the field was moderately populated, but
not all that crowded. While the Dawn Patrol was doing their light
show before taking off, I turn from another photographer with whom I
am chatting to see a rather tall gentleman standing directly in front
of my camera. And by directly in front I mean that; there was maybe a
foot and change between him and the front of my lens.
I wait for him to move, or realize he's blocking me. When that
doesn't work, I speak to him. And when that doesn't work I touch his
arm and point out that he's in the way. That's when he tells me that
he knows he's in the way. He intends to be in the way. He starts
haranging me because I'm in the way of his children, who are lying on
a blanket twenty or so feet behind me. We photographers with our
tripods are keeping his kids from seeing the show.
Now let's ignore for a moment the reality that lying on the ground,
you aren't going to get a good view of tethered balloons. Besides
photographers, quite a few other people are also standing to get a
good view. My first comment is that if he'd told me of the problem,
I'd have been willing to move. He tells me that he can't be expected
to tell ten photographers to move. I very quickly realize that he has
no interest in solving the problem. No, he's pissed, and all he wants
is to piss somebody else off.
(I will point out that it wasn't until later that I got his
reference to ten photographers. He wasn't complaining about me
personally, but me as one of the group of photographers. So why did
he single me out? My guess is that I'm quite a bit shorter than the
other photographers and therefore easier to intimidate and less able
to tell him to fuck off without personal risk. So he's a bully and a
coward, rather than merely an obnoxious asshole.)
Talking to him got me nowhere, and neither did my pointing out that I
was already in place before he and his sleepy family arrived. His
response to that: "Whoopdido for you." Classy and rational.
And of course now I'm pissed off. And grateful I don't carry a
weapon, because in that moment I would happily have gone nuclear on
his ass. Not proud of that, but I'm not proud of having to take his
abuse either.
Disorderly Content
