All these problems had been worked on for decades. In one of my history classes, we learned about John F. Kennedy. He said welfare should be ‘a hand up, not a handout.’ Somehow, we had to start helping people make a better life for themselves. We needed to see the number of people on welfare drop because of success stories and not see it grow year after year.
I was sort of caught in a Catch-22. Clearly, these problems were too big for an individual to solve. And I was beginning to believe that government wasn’t the answer. One example my grandfather pointed out to me was the debt in our state. They say the highway to Hell is paved with good intentions. My state thought that if they threw money at a problem, it would go away. Nine of the last twelve years, they’d spent more than they brought in and had accumulated nearly $16 billion in debt. That wasn’t even the worst part. The state had over 200 billion dollars in unfunded pension and healthcare liabilities. If you broke it down by the number of taxpayers, they would each have to pony up $50,000 to pay it off. I couldn’t see how we could tax our way out of that hole.
I knew they’d done what they thought was right. The question wasn’t whether the state government would either need a bailout or go bankrupt, but when.
Sometime soon, the bills would become due, and the most vulnerable would suffer. I feared that when it happened, it would overwhelm the volunteer networks, and then people would get desperate.
Then again, maybe we should just kick that can down the road and let our children worry about it. Wait, that was me!
An obstacle in the way of any solution, no matter how easy or difficult, was the divisiveness in politics today. Everyone was out to get the other party. You had to toe the party line and sing from the same hymnal. When did we stop working together to solve the big problems and start just playing the blame game?
When I thought about all of that—the problems I wanted to solve, the government, the political environment—my head hurt. Did I really want to go into politics and try to clean up the mess that was being left for my generation? I might be better off sniping from the sidelines and working to secure my friends and family’s future.
I think I’d always known I wasn’t one for the sidelines. But I suddenly understood something. When I went into politics, I would have to stand alone many times if I were to be true to myself and the people I represented. I just hoped I could stand up for my convictions. I’d seen too many politicians have grand ideas until they got the job. Then they did everything they could to keep it instead of what they truly believed in or were elected to do.
I took a deep breath. Was I ready for this? Apparently, the answer was no, not now. I had to laugh when I thought I might be prepared ‘someday.’ What the mental exercise did was help clarify things for me. I decided I didn’t really hate my uncle for posing tough questions. I’d been focused on the present, and it helped to step back and look at the big picture.
In the end, no matter whether I made movies, played baseball, or played football, there was a clear path from each to my ultimate goal. And who knew, I might figure out how to get there without going into politics. My grandfather had worked himself into power without ever having to take a higher office.
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The class I found myself looking forward to was Photography. I know I’m a ‘stupid boy’ and should have connected it with modeling. I’d absorbed a lot more than I realized about different lighting, filters, framing shots, and the like. Ms. Saunders spent the first week talking to the four of us taking the class to find our level of knowledge. She then planned to work with us individually to help us improve our craft. Today was my day to find that path.
“I think you have a firm understanding of what makes a good picture of a person,” she started.
She’d shown me several portraits and more artistic photos and had me point out the flaws in each. Very few were perfect, but I’d seen thousands of pictures and now recognized what a good photo looked like. The other three people in my class would have to learn that before their photographs improved. I knew that because we were tasked with taking photos of people so Ms. Saunders could judge our ability as photographers. I’d sort of cheated and spent time with Halle before she left. She was my willing subject, and I got the benefit of her artistic side to help improve some shots.
“Where you are lacking is learning the technical side of photography,” she explained.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m going to give you an assignment to help you learn how to create a better image using high-dynamic-range, or HDR, imaging,” she said, then pulled out a photo.
The photo was of stained glass in a church. The problem was the sun coming through the glass so the light from the window overpowered everything else. It caused the detail of the church interior to be faded.
Ms. Saunders laid down four photographs of the same stained glass. From left to right, it went from too dark to too bright.
“These were taken at -4 stop, -2 stop, +2 stop, and +4 stop,” she explained.
She then showed me a picture that captured the detail of the church and still showed the stained glass.
“Using HDR processing, we balanced the light with simple contrast reduction. Now look at this,” Ms. Saunders said, showing me the last picture.
This one looked much better. It had more vibrant colors and made the one I thought was good before now look dull by comparison.
“This was done using local tone mapping,” she said.
“I didn’t realize you could make that much difference in a picture.”
“Your mom sells real estate, right?” Ms. Saunders asked.
I nodded.
“Why don’t you see if you can shoot some of her houses for her? You’ll need a tripod so your camera stays still while you take the picture at different stop settings. In fact, your camera has a function to take them in rapid-fire fashion to give you the images you need to run through the process,” she said. Then she showed me how to do it.
We practiced in the classroom as I took a picture of the window. Ms. Saunders took the four photos and showed me how to use the software to create a new image that no longer had glare.
As I left for the day, I took a moment to appreciate that the class I thought would be the most boring was becoming interesting.
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When I arrived at practice, Coach Hope stopped me.
“You have a visitor,” he said as he pointed to the coaches’ conference room.
I found Jeff, my favorite reporter, with his cameraman and someone I didn’t recognize.
“David, Andrew Cutter with Vicis. I have your new helmet, the Zero1 model. I’m here to make sure it’s fitted correctly.”
Tami had sent me to a helmet maker that used modern technology she thought would help lessen, if not prevent, concussions. Instead of a hard outer shell, they had created a multilayer cushion system, much like a car bumper. The hard shell was inside the helmet. Tests had shown it to be an innovative technology that was desperately needed. The only problem was that right now, they had to charge $1,500 for a helmet.
Andrew talked Jeff through the innovation and had a cutaway model of the helmet to show him. They had different-sized interior padding inserts that he used to fit the helmet to my head correctly. The only problem was the helmet was white. I would need to get it painted in our school colors before the Washington game.
“Do you plan on stress-testing it tonight?” Jeff asked.
“I hope to never have to test it.”
“Good answer,” Andrew agreed.
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