POSER

Photographers like to say right as they’re about to take your photo, “Just act natural.”

Which is a lot like telling someone, “Just don’t think about blinking.”

For years, I had no idea how to be in front of a camera. I’d try to smile without looking like I was smiling. I’d laugh a little because someone once told me that natural-looking photos look better. Then, I’d spend hours staring at my photo, convinced one eye appeared too sleepy while the other looked too surprised, and that neither seemed to suit my face.

I’ve always admired people who simplify their look with a uniform. Steve Jobs. Tom Wolfe. Even Homer Simpson. Every morning, they woke up, removed one decision from their day, and got on with it. I could never do that. Respectfully... absolutely not. I wouldn’t know what to do with all my other clothes.

But it recently occurred to me that I might not need a uniform. But… maybe I need a photographic one. Crossed arms. Small smile. Tiny head tilt. Apparently, I have exactly one look.

This picture was taken backstage before Taboo Live at the “Netflix Is A Joke Festival.” I look at it and think, That guy has it all figured out. Which is funny, because I know for a fact he does not.

Today I went to the DMV to finally get a new driver’s license after moving. Yes, I moved late last year. Apparently, California wasn’t in much of a rush to make sure I knew where I lived.

The guy behind the camera at the DMV told me to step in front of the camera, and muscle memory took over. Crossed arms. Small smile. Tiny head tilt.

I honestly expected someone to stop me and say, ”Sir, your arms need to be at your sides.”

Instead, the man taking the picture couldn’t have cared less. He snapped it in about three seconds and called the next person. I wasn’t even the weirdest person he’d photographed that minute. I’m looking at you, Mr. Socks-and-Tevas.

Now I have to wait two or three weeks to find out whether my eyes are closed, crossed, half asleep, or if I have the expression of someone who just drove through a wind tunnel of cocaine with the windows down. Until that envelope with my new license arrives, I’m choosing to believe it’s a great picture.

Because I know exactly what the guy in the above photo was thinking five minutes before it was taken.

He wasn’t thinking, “I’ve got this.”

He was thinking, “Please let the crowd be with us.”

“Please let those performer introductions actually make people instantly know who they’re applauding for.”

“Please let this show work.”

“Please don’t have a panic attack halfway through it.”

Funny how cameras never seem to capture any of that. The camera only caught one-sixtieth of a second. Maybe confidence isn’t having it all figured out. Maybe it’s just finding one-sixtieth of a second where you look like you do.

SMILE.