It was really fun. I wore my black photographer's vest and had a digital camera in each pocket. It was too dark to take pictures of anything other than the folks onstage under the lights, though. We got there late.

Anyway, I took some pictures and then sat down and had myself a plate. The girls told me that they couldn't see where I was taking pictures from, even though I had been right in front of the stage. I thought, "Cool. I'm camera commando girl."

The music was good, the performers fun. Then the band started up the infamous dialogue that begins "Proud Mary". "Now we want to do a little sumpthin' for ya that's nice and easy. But before we're done ... it's gonna be nice ... and rough." You know how it goes. We were all yelling and cheering.

They did the "easy" part of the song and then started the really jamming part. There was a bunch of little girls in the audience totally doing the Tina Turner dance, and the female vocalist brought one up on stage to do her thing. Naturally, I tore up the hill to get a good picture. It turned out a little too blurry. Too dark, too much motion for my digital to handle.

Then the singer gets done with the little girl, and she wants a boy to come up on stage. She's trying and trying to get a volunteer. Nobody's volunteering. I'm about 10 yards stage left, where I'd retreated to after the little girl was finished. The singer starts pointing somewhere off of stage right where there's someone else with a camera and says, "Where's that photographer who's been taking pictures over here. I need you to come up here." I know she's not talking to me.

But I can hear my family ... my dear, beloved family ... and my neighbors Stella and Tracie ... out in the audience ... hooting and screaming for my public humiliation, thinking that the lady on stage is talking to me, thinking I'm a man, wanting me to come up on stage and dance to Proud Mary. Those bitches.

Here's the guy she finally convinced to come up and do The Push. She really wanted a little boy, but they were all too shy.

He was a good sport.

Then ... THEN ... When I got back to my so-called "girlfriends" and nailed them on their betrayal, they made Jake reenact the impression of me that she did when the singer was talking to the photographer. She was miming me smoking a cigarette and reading a book and looking furtively put-out by the suggestion to dance. It really was pretty funny.

Needless to say, we all had a great time. I missed not having Ricky and Lucy there, but they're in Ireland until this weekend. I'm anxious for them to come home safe. They left the weekend before the WTC/Pentagon attacks. And Lucy's a flight attendant. Man, I hope she doesn't get laid off. She doesn't have much seniority, though. I hope all of this terrorist nastiness didn't completely ruin their big anniversary trip.

And speaking of the recent tragedies ... We did a story on an association for evidence photographers in the magazine recently, and I've been talking to the head of the organization. He's going to let Sara and I attend the evidence photographer's school here in November for free. That's WAY cool.

He was going to be in Atlanta at the end of next week to hash out hotel arrangements for the school. I had invited him to come to one of our family dinner nights for a good meal, but now he's not sure he'll be coming down after all. He's doing some work for the WTC attack investigation, filling in for a colleague, taking photos at the morgue. He says he doesn't know for sure what days they'll need him next week, but if they ask he can't say "no". I told him that I understood, and that I admired him and thanked him for the work he's doing.

Ever since I've been talking to Bob, I've been wondering if evidence photography is something that I could do. Most of the folks in his organization do it as a sideline. They work for lawyers and sometimes law enforcement agencies that don't have a photographer on staff and hire the work from freelancers. There's also an increasing demand for female evidence photographers to take pictures of domestic abuse and rape victims. The usually female victims are more comfortable with a female photographer right after an attack.

I know I can look at some pretty hairy photographs. Bob sent us a big stack to pick from. But I guess you don't know if you can stand there and take them until you try. Sara has had to take gory photos and see grisly things, but she says she can distance herself into a professional, I'm-on-the-job place. I really respect her for that.

Well, I'm not looking to change jobs any time soon. Of course, in this economy, it's always good to have another skill to fall back on, so I'm attending this evidence photography school to take advantage of that opportunity. I really think it will be part dry and boring and part fascinating. I'm looking forward to it.