- December 21, 2024
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The splash of the Sarasota social scene is in print and social media: posts, snaps and articles are plentiful to prove that, yes indeed, although a bit delayed from the storms, the fall season has arrived.
As a member of the service industry, (yes, Dearest Gentle Reader, photography is indeed a service) getting ribbed about our constant partying is frequent. But in reality photographers and servers simply go to parties to serve others. And yes, we love our jobs.
Most often photographers are found at our desks late at night with a bowl of something unhealthy to munch on and the convenience of Alexa blaring song choices. Summer months are slower, so we catch up on spinning vinyl on a turntable, answering months-old texts from temporarily ghosted friends, and travel. Here are a few tidbits that remain as we catch up on what we all missed from the summer.
Renowned dance photographer Sorcha Augustine got engaged, I went to Europe and Tracey McCammack went on a diet. Sorcha has new bling, I have new travel photos and Tracey has a new body.
Engagement Bliss: Although Sorcha Augustine and Trey Jones share 100 mutual friends on social media, it wasn't until a 2023 party put them face-to-face that they quickly realized they are aligned, in part, through similar upbringings and relatable past experiences. This artist and the gearhead were a pleasure to photograph in the romantic Celery Fields.
Sorcha: "Trey feels like home."
Trey: "Our relationship in a song is 'Dancing in the Moonlight.'"
It doesn't hurt that he also knows what a plié is.
Looking great: "Catering Queen" Tracey McCammack from Michael's On East is well versed in elegance and etiquette. She can style and set a table for 700, and supervise a staff of any number, with 59 being the most to date. This summer Tracey went on a diet. After shedding 37 pounds, she is pure inspiration for everyone grabbing food on the run between assignments.
Mistaken identity: Photographers and servers both tend to wear black. Recently a guest summoned me from across the ballroom during podium time — and then stuck a fork in my face, clearly overlooking the heavy camera gear, notebook and pen in my hands.
"This fork was on the floor!"
Um, O.K., do you want a photo?
"No, I need a new fork now!" he bellowed.
With utmost delight and barely able to contain my laughter, I did indeed return with a fork. I've never said, "Not my job."
Update: I ran into the seat filler I mentioned in my last column. He's having a wonderful time with his new table friends and commented very favorably on my writing. I could tell he had no idea I was writing about him.
I love my job!
Next week: upcoming events and more tales!