When Doves Chirp

We missed booking the videographer who works out of the photography studio we visited by one day. We are uncertain whether this was a blessing or a curse. Next on the list was someone referred to us by my dad’s office. He taped depositions for them sometimes. He lived a bit outside the city, if you consider Bloomington a city. He hopped off a lawnmower, his well-fed frame impressively nimble, as we pulled up the driveway to his garage studio. He aggressively dabbed the perspiration off his brow as he made our acquaintance.

My friend Andy described every videographer he ever met as an “older, overweight, overly enthusiastic, sweaty man who thinks he’s funny.” Either Andy only knows this one, or he is a visionary.

First impressions are significant. You want to find a shared wavelength with your vendors. We walked into the garage, and it felt like we were looking at an early-stage mock-up of the USS Enterprise’s control room that a Trekkie had been working on as a hobby.

We watched a couple of sample videos, as he was eager to show us some of the new effects he was working on, swirling clouds, silhouettes of strange objects transitioning from scene to scene, and doves chirping (which I don’t think they do). I prayed these were optional. The videos looked like they were filmed well, but they were overburdened with effects and transitional objects moving about the screen. Each segment was preceded by some clicking, a chuckle, and a “Check this out” that sounded like a bad George W. Bush impression.

We replied with, “That’s a new take on it” and similar vague assurances.

He was a technically astute, enthusiastic fellow, but his fun time involved the creation of special effects that Disney would have rejected in the twenties. We talked over the basics of the contract and described our vision as everything he was doing using only the camera.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival