Chapter 1

Monday morning and it was back to school—our last first day back, so to speak.

Since it was the last time we'd be celebrating the event, it seemed something special should accompany such a momentous happening, but all I could come up with was a giant yawn as I pulled my Jeep out of the garage.

I was early enough to get a great spot in the lot, always a good sign ... so far, so good.

Mr. Nordstrom met me at the door. "Ah, Tommy! Could you come with me? Somebody wants to talk to you."

"Sure, what's up?" I asked as we walked to the Institute's offices. Flashbacks to high school had me twitching a bit. I mean, it was the first day back and already I was being escorted to the office? He led me into the Finance office. Had my tuition check bounced? No, it couldn't be that, I knew I had enough in my account to more than cover the check.

"Miss Goen, this is Thomas Randahl. I believe you have something for him."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Randahl. This is your lucky day," she said as she handed me a letter.

A letter with a check attached.

"Um, what is this for?"

"Do you remember filling out the forms for financial aid your freshman year? Well, better late than never, I guess," Miss Goen said with a sheepish grin. "Somehow your application got lost. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm sure it wasn't your fault. I made it through the first three years without having to resort to student loans, so I'm doing better than a lot of the other kids.

"Not that I'm going to refuse this!" I added with a grin as I folded the check and stashed it in my wallet.

Dad had been conservative when it came to money and had stashed away enough for both Kevin and me to finish school without any of the debt load most college grads ended up with—as long as we didn't spend too much on non-essentials. On top of that, my photo business had allowed me to pay for my tuition, books, supplies, coffee, and all the other miscellaneous stuff without even having to tap Dad's education fund. I felt pretty good about that!

I was looking forward to telling him about this.

The first day back was—aside from my unexpected windfall—pretty much what I expected. Some of my instructors I'd had before; those I hadn't I'd either met or seen around the Institute. The school was small enough that in three years I'd met most of the faculty.

After school I decided to stop at the photo shop. Since I was going to audit a video course Winter quarter. I thought getting a video camera before I needed it was probably a good idea. I didn't want to walk into class totally unprepared. The little bit of video I'd shot with the GoPro had been just enough to show me I didn't know what I was doing, and that I'd need something better than that little camera. I didn't want to spend a fortune on a tool I probably wouldn't use a lot and felt I could trust Joe to steer me in the right direction.

"Hey, Tommy, how's it going?" he asked as I walked into the shop.

"Not too bad. I'm starting my last year at the Institute and have a video class coming up this winter. Got any suggestions for a relatively inexpensive camera that will still let me do something besides running in dummy mode?"

"Oh, I think we can dig up something that will take care of you. Any price range in mind?"

"Hmm, I guess five hundred or less. Am I asking the impossible here?"

"Nope. We have several in that range," he said as he started pulling cameras out of the display.

An hour later he'd set me up with a camera that was perfect for what I was planning. On top of that I got it for about $400, including an additional high-capacity battery and a few extras. It wasn't a professional camera, but for what I needed it would work. It would even allow me to use my portable DVD player as an external monitor.

Now all I had to do was figure out how to use it. I knew just enough about video to know I was going to have to un-learn some of the tricks that had served me so well shooting still images. Contrary to what most people thought, video and still photography were two very different disciplines.

When I got home, I quickly threw together a sandwich and then sat down to unpack my latest toys. As soon as I had the goodies in one pile and all the packing in another I grabbed the owner's manual and did a quick scan to catch the highlights—mainly so I'd know how to turn off all the automatic stuff. I thought back to Photo 101 and the ration Mr. Nordstrom gave one of the other kids when she admitted to leaving her camera in Auto mode all the time.

I spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to actually do what I'd read about.

It didn't take me long to figure out that one of my regular tripods wasn't going to cut it for a video mount. I needed something mobile, something on wheels. Hmmm, if I mounted a pair of wheels on a bracket, added a ¼-20 bolt to fasten the camera, and put a long handle on it, I'd be all set. Sort of a video push broom.

Beth walked in and found me sitting in front of my computer trying to remember how to use AutoCAD so I could finish up a drawing for my new mount.

"Oh, oh, time to visit the scrap yard again! Saturday soon enough?" was her only comment when she looked over my shoulder.

The next morning was my first day in the elective Graphic Arts class I'd signed up for. The class was an overview on layout and type choices aimed mainly for those of us who weren't in the GA program but wanted a basic understanding of what happened after we'd taken the pictures.

Mr. Quast, our instructor, passed out a sample flier and started right in asking us for our opinions.

With me being first in the barrel.

"Mr., ah ... Randahl. What do you notice first about our sample?"

"Well, it seems kind of cluttered, with all the postage-stamp-sized pictures, and the type face seems too busy for the body of the text."

"You've got a good eye, Thomas.

"Anyone want to add anything?"

"Yes, Mr. David?"

"The print seems blurry," Anse said. "The print overlaying the pictures, along with the decorative font Tommy mentioned, makes the whole thing add up to something very hard to read."

A few more comments and Mr. Quast looked a little surprised.

"I'm impressed. The things you all mentioned do add up to a very poorly-designed piece. I know once most of you get out in the real world you're going to be concentrating on photography, with a graphic designer probably—hopefully—doing the actual layouts.

"One of the biggest problems with do-it-yourself publishing is it makes it too easy for everyone and his uncle to turn out stuff like this.

"Let's see where a few small changes could make a huge difference.

"Thomas, we'll start with you. I agree, too many tiny pictures draw the eye all over the page. Also, fancy typefaces like this should be used very sparingly. Maybe a one or two word heading would be appropriate, but no more. Also the type flowing over the different colors in the photography make any type hard to read. To top it off, even a slight mis-registration in color printing will cause the fuzziness you mentioned, Anse."

By the end of the session I had several pages of notes. As Mr. Quast said, most of us wouldn't be in a position to make any decisions on the appearance of the final product, but maybe, just maybe, we could have some input on the finished piece. I certainly wouldn't be proud to see my name associated with the sample we saw.

"For your first assignment, I want you each to redesign that brochure. You can use any of the images you'll find on the school's server in the directory for this class. Use as many as you feel appropriate and resize them to fit your design if you need to.

"I want to see your results next week." Oh, good—no rush.

The next day was my first self-defense session after the summer break. I had barely walked into the dojo when Andy bounced up.

"Tommy! You wouldn't believe what happened this summer!"

"Hi, Andy. What's got you so excited?"

Suddenly the younger boy looked almost guilty.

"Tommy, I know you said I shouldn't ever tell anybody about Nancy and me, but...

"Tommy, I saw Nancy naked! We rode our bikes out to an old farm that she'd heard about. We explored a little and found a pond, then we walked back to our bikes and I grabbed the blanket I'd brought along."

"Hmm ... Planning ahead, were you?" I kidded my young friend.

"No! Well ... maybe ... a little," he said with a "busted" look.

"Anyway, we sat on the blanket for a while. You know, just talking, and I kidded Nancy that it was too bad we hadn't brought our suits so we could have one last swim before school started. Nancy said there wasn't any reason to let that stop us, and, Tommy ... she stood up and started taking her clothes off. Right in front of me!"

"So what did you do?"

"Well, I couldn't just sit there, so I took mine off, too."

"And how was the swimming?"

"It was great! We just goofed off in the water, you know, splashing each other and stuff."

Oh, yeah, I knew about the "stuff" that could happen in a pond like that.

"But, Tommy, I had a problem. When Nancy got out of the water I just couldn't! I mean I didn't want her to see me like ... well, you know."

Oh, yeah, I knew. I thought back to that first night at Beth's and me holding my clothes in front of me. As if the ladies in question didn't know.

"So, what did you do?"

"I just stood there in the water."

I could see him turning red just thinking of it.

"Pretty soon, Nancy splashed back in the water. She waded over to me and just hugged me and rubbed herself all over me. I tried not to poke her, but she reached down and ... and grabbed me, and started moving her hand back and forth.

"But then I couldn't stand it any more and I just, well, you know."

"I'll bet that felt pretty good, eh? Even better when somebody else helps, isn't it?"

Suddenly Andy's ears were ready to combust and he just looked down at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Andy. I shouldn't kid you like that. Did Nancy notice?"

"Yeah, I think she did because she got this big grin on her face and pulled me into another hug.

"And that felt pretty good too. I mean, I've hugged her but never naked before. Then we walked back to the blanket and just lay there until we dried off."

I'll bet they just lay there. I mean, what were the odds of no cuddling or anything in a situation like that?

"But I'm not going to say anything else, because I remember what you said about her thinking I was bragging."

It was a little late for that.

"Very smart. She'll appreciate it if nothing gets back to her from her friends. So have you been invited back for any more dinners?"

"Yeah, and I've remembered what you said about bringing something every time, but I think I goofed last time."

"Why?"

Well, Mom said I should bring over some cookies she'd just made and Nancy's mom told me I didn't have to do that every time."

"Well, maybe not every time, but now and then will remind her of what a nice guy you are."

Just then Kurt walked out of his office and it was time to sweat.

Saturday morning found us digging through aluminum of every size, shape and description. I thought back to my introduction to the world of surplus metal. Who knew there were so many different kinds? I also remembered spending the night before our first expedition, snuggled with my princess—with our parents' blessing, even!

With our purchases securely strapped to the top of the Jeep it was time for breakfast, a stop at a local hardware store for a couple of wheels, then to the shop to cut everything to size and drill all the necessary holes—all made easier by the availability of the right tools. A stop at Chuck and Bev's house and I managed to weld everything together. I thought back to my first attempt at welding and could only grin.

Back at the duplex I collected my reward and, after a quick nap to restore my creative juices, I mounted the camera on my wheeled wonder and took a walk through the neighborhood to see what there was to see, all the time with a big grin on my face. Beth's reward system tended to do that to me. Back home I loaded my first video footage into my computer to see what I'd gotten. Beth planted herself on my lap to play impartial observer and kibitzer.

It didn't take long to spot a couple of big drawbacks to my design. The biggest one was the fixed camera position. BORING!

"Tommy, maybe you should include an adjustable mount so you can vary the camera height. I know where you can get a good deal on one," she said with a chuckle. That earned her a poke in the ribs that had her levitating off my lap.

"I'll get you for that!" I threatened. "I'm thinking a single wheel might work better, too. That way I could sort of bank around the corners."

"And how about one of those hard hats with a revolving red light on top?" Beth said as she danced out of my reach. Wise ass. Just because I'd run into a few things when I concentrated on what I was shooting and not where I was going.

As I sat there modifying my original drawing, I thought back to the number of changes my original camera mount went through and could only let out a sigh. Looked like I was going through it again.

With my revised design done, it was time to do something with it. I printed a copy of the drawing, grabbed my original mount and headed downstairs to the "dungeon" as our little home shop was affectionately known. As shops go, it wasn't much—just a bench with a tabletop drill-press and some basic hand tools. Luckily, Beth had convinced me to use aluminum rather than steel for my first project and I'd stuck with the easy to use metal.

I was drilling holes for the single wheel mount when my lady came down to see what I was up to.

"How's it going?"

"Not too bad," I said, as I showed her the kludged together wheel mount. If I ever made another it wouldn't look like this one, but I'd learned my lesson involving the difference between a one-off problem fix and a ready-for-production product and wasn't worried about appearances. At least not this time.

"Lookin' pretty good. You want a hand?"

"Sure. I'm always ready for help."

As we finished up adding the moveable camera mount to the "chassis" I was again reminded how nice it was to have a friend to work with.

Friend?

Yeah. I realized that when we were working together like this I'd started thinking of Beth as my friend, not my girlfriend, but more as just a regular friend.

A regular friend who could work circles around me in the shop.

Eventually—and with no blood spilled—we finished up my new, improved, rolling video camera mount. Now to try it out.

A quick repeat of my first try showed much better results. It wasn't going to replace a tripod or expensive boom mount, but for a different view of the world it did the job.