Sharp-eyed readers may notice that there’s something different about today’s column. And no, I don’t mean that the writing has somehow gotten better. It’s the same old nonsense as usual.
But look closely at the top of the column. I’ll wait.
Did you see it? Yes, the photograph that accompanies this column has been updated. I don’t know how long the other photograph has been running, but I do know that I don’t have as much hair now as I did then.
There was another issue with the old photo, too. I honestly don’t pay much attention to the picture, but I happened to catch a glimpse of it a few weeks ago, and for a few scary moments, I was concerned that Jabba the Hutt had started writing my column.
As you know, 2017 has been all about getting myself into better shape. I’ve changed how I eat. I work out three times a week. I do cardio every day. And I’ve lost 50 pounds and almost six inches off my waist.
Unfortunately, the photograph that ran with this column was taken before I lost all of that weight – and, apparently, before I lost a couple of chins, too.
I don’t really like having my picture taken. I don’t think I’m particularly photogenic. No one is going to confuse me with George Clooney or Brad Pitt. But I didn’t think I had a choice. I really didn’t want a photograph of a walrus accompanying my column anymore.
So I made an appointment with a photographer I know. Hiring a professional, I assumed, would make the photo better than if I just handed a camera to a friend.
The folks in Hollywood always look good in their photographs. That’s because they have a few advantages that the rest of us don’t have. The stars have professional hair and makeup people who make them look perfect. They have professional lighting that hides any imperfections.
And if any imperfections still exist after the professional hair and makeup folks have done their thing and the professional lighting has been used, someone will then just retouch and Photoshop the photo to remove the blemishes.
It seems to happen all the time. A magazine once put Oprah Winfrey's head on someone else's body. And a fitness magazine recently gave tennis player Andy Roddick much larger biceps than he really has.
I didn’t have any hair or makeup people. But the photographer did have professional lighting.
He took about 20 shots, and then we moved to a computer so we could look at them. Unfortunately, they all looked like me, not George Clooney or Brad Pitt. I picked out one or two that I liked, but the photographer suggested that we take a few more.
Out of that second batch, we narrowed the choices down to five, then two, then finally the one that appears with today’s effort.
Fortunately, the photographer did have Photoshop, so he began to tone the photo I chose.
“Can you make me look like George Clooney or Brad Pitt?” I asked.
“I don’t know how to use Photoshop that well,” he said.
The final product turned out OK, I supposed. It looks just like me, which I guess is the point.
And there’s another piece of good news that comes with a new photo. In the unlikely event, I backslide I gain back the weight I’ve lost, I won’t need a new photo.
I’m keeping the skinny one.
