Not Pictured

I've used one picture for all of my online purposes for the past five years. Though it may look it, I'm not trying to deceive anybody. I agree that up until about a month ago that picture would have been quite duplicitous, what with the freshman fifteen (thirty) that caught up with me after I graduated from college. Even if we ignore the exaggerated chin count, there's quite a bit in that photo I don't recognize in my mirror's current return. The infamous "spike" has been retired for at least two years in favor of a shorn skull and my current mop. My facial hair changes more often than Paris Hilton's boyfriend. And just about the only thing that has not changed since that photo was taken is my aversion to looking directly into a camera lens. Still, I'd love to be able to throw up a new photo for my legions of adoring fans to ogle, but unfortunately, in the past several years I have become the embodiment of that dreadful caption: Not Pictured.

There don't seem to be any pictures of me anywhere. I snuck into a few at Thanksgiving, but since that was approximately 30 pounds ago I'm not about to throw them up just because they're the most recent photos I can find. I've somehow been able to swindle a handful of beautiful girls into joining my friend list, and there's no way I want them thinking I still look like that. Unfortunately, unless I start making creative use of the timer on my digital camera, God knows when a more timely representation of me will find its way onto my profile.

Sadly, I realized just how few photos of me there are when I attended my cousin's funeral. My cousin, Levi, was just a shade older than me when he died earlier this summer. Before the services, on a monitor in the back of the room, there was a slideshow spinning through photos of Levi's life. I couldn't help but wonder what my own slideshow would look like if I were to be hit by a bus today. They'd have a dearth of images to work with up till about 18, and then, suddenly, the eight most essential years of my life would flash by in a breath. When you consider that as I get older I have fewer nice things to say about the man I used to be, I would be rather perturbed if my funeral in any way suggested that my teens were the best years of my life.

I don't mind being the guy behind the camera. This past Christmas I was able to give my family pictures of Andrew from the day before he left for Iraq, and it was one of the most rewarding gifts I've ever been able to give my family. Still, when I spend so much time looking for those perfect moments of family and friends to capture for prosperitys sake, it'd be nice to see myself, once in a while, within the frame rather than below it -- in a caption.

Photo Taken By

Still, I guess it's better than Not Pictured.