"Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art." — Stanisław Jerzy Lec
I was inspired to write this after seeing a post about an actor whose appearance had changed so dramatically over the years that people were commenting on how “unrecognizable” they looked. It got me thinking about the passage of time, how we measure it, and how differently we see it as we get older.
There's a quote I’ve always liked: “Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.”
This first photo was taken around 1984, by Patrice Shannon on assignment at the Saratoga Racetrack in New York. With my “dream camera,” a Canon F1 and a 200mm f/2.8 lens, I was incredibly proud to be a “working photojournalist.” The second, last weekend by Bel Junqueira at a campaign rally for Brazilian President LUIZ INÁCIO LULA DA SILVA.
I remember celebrating my 30th birthday at a Houlihan’s in Secaucus, New Jersey with some friends, when a woman came up to me at the bar as I was waiting for a drink and asked what the occasion was. I told her I was celebrating turning 30 and how great it felt. Her response? "You're an idiot. You're old."
I laughed, but I also reminded her that plenty of people never get to see 30. Some of them were friends of mine.
The same holds true when you reach 40, 50, 60 and beyond. Every decade is another opportunity that not everyone gets. At some point, you realize that getting older isn't the problem. Not getting the chance is.
“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” —Mae West
I try not to get too introspective or emotional about my work or career, but every so often, an image comes along that puts both into perspective.
The first photograph here (above) was taken around 1984, on assignment at the Saratoga Racetrack in New York. Back then, I never stopped to wonder where I'd be 40 years later. I certainly couldn't have imagined I'd still be doing this, perched on top of a bus in Rio de Janeiro, photographing one of the largest LGBTQ+ parades in the world or even in Rio de Janeiro, these things happen in life, if you’re lucky.
On top of an electric trio. during the 29th annual Parada do Orgulho LGBTI+ Rio (Rio LGBTI+ Pride Parade). 2024
The second image, a wonderful photograph that caught me by surprise by photojournalist Bel Junqueira taken just last weekend at an election rally for Brazilian President Lula, made me smile. My immediate thought was, "Now that's what a seasoned photojournalist looks like!" It also reminded me of something one of my favorite editor’s Jack Bowie used to say whenever I walked into his office at the Daily Record: "Damn, Bob, you look like you've been ridden hard and put away wet." I always took that as the highest compliment. Honestly, I think he meant it that way.
“Nothing is worth more than this day.” — Goethe
We photojournalists are a different breed. Years of chasing deadlines, missing meals, working in miserable weather, sleeping whenever we can, and finding ourselves in places most people would rather avoid tend to leave their mark. It's not always pretty, but it's a look you've earned.
Time has a funny way of moving. One minute you're the young photographer trying to make a name for yourself, and the next you're looking back at four decades of assignments, experiences, friendships and an awful lot of photographs.
Photographing a New York Giants game in the late 20th century- Giants Stadium-East Rutherford, New Jersey
I've been fortunate to work in New York, New Jersey, North Carolina and Brazil, and travel to more than 25 countries. I've witnessed some of the world's greatest moments of beauty and some of its most heartbreaking tragedies. Along the way, I've been inspired by countless photographers, writers and editors, and met a few people I wish I'd never crossed paths with. That's life, too.
One memory that has stayed with me is photographing an older man and his son during a snowstorm in Morristown, New Jersey back in 2012. After I got their names, the father asked if he could give me a hug. He had never been photographed for a newspaper before. Think about that. For me, it was another assignment. For him, it was a moment worth remembering. I've never forgotten it.
Jim Anness and me at the rededication of the Ellis Island Immigration Museum in 1990. Yes, that is a mullet. Just a reminder, photojournalists invented the selfie!
And then there's the photograph I made of an elderly man sitting outside a restaurant in Jericho, Israel, back in 1977. It was the single image that propelled me into photojournalism and to this day, I haven't made a better photograph. Maybe that's part of what keeps me going. The belief that there's still something out there I haven't seen, some moment I haven't captured, some image that might just be better than the last.
Doug Crouse and me in Montenegro, Colombia-1999 and later that year in Panama City, Panama covering the turning over of. the Panama Canal
I've had the privilege of working alongside some incredibly talented people, and I'm especially impressed by the next generation of photojournalists. They continue to raise the bar and keep us veterans on our toes, looking over our shoulders and reminding us that there's always more to learn.
As for getting older, I've never understood the point of pretending it isn't happening. I live every day as fully as I can. Not because I'm obsessed with the idea that tomorrow might be my last, but because I know it could be. I've lost friends who never got the opportunity to see the years I've been fortunate enough to experience.
“The journey, not the arrival, matters.” — T. S. Eliot
And when my time eventually comes, I don't want people sitting around my funeral with sad faces wondering what might have been. I'd much rather hear someone say, "That son of a bitch lived a life."
I've got no regrets. Plenty of stories, plenty of scars, a ridiculous number of photographs, and probably more miles behind me than I ever imagined. Enough stories to fill a few volumes of On the Road and maybe even make Jack Kerouac a tad envious. I've also had the extraordinary good fortune to share this ride with the love of an amazing woman, the unconditional love of one perfect dog, and a family that's always been in my corner, cheering me on and wanting nothing more than to see me succeed. When I think about it, that's a pretty remarkable life. But I'm not finished yet. Not even close.
"Idle hands are the devil's playthings" —Chris Pedota, myself and Tim Farrell during down time at the Daily Record
So this is my long-winded (as usual) way of saying thank you. To the friends, colleagues, mentors, editors and all the people who've supported me, encouraged me, challenged me and shared a little piece of this journey.
“When I die, I will decidedly not be regretting missed opportunities for a good time.” — Anthony Bourdain
I've been blessed by your friendships, and I'm grateful for every one of them. You've given me a gift I could never repay.
Getting older is inevitable. Getting to live a life worth looking back on is the real privilege.
Here's to whatever time we have left, and to making the most of every damn minute of it.