My grandfather chronicled the first part of my life (and other happenings) in small photo albums filled with prints from a 35 mm Nikon. I've scanned in a lot of these photos so I've got them digitally, but they still sit in a bookshelf at his house all numbered and indexed. There are even little notes behind some of the photos he left to me and each one is a little gift when I find it. A story about me at a time I wasn't paying attention. It's a reminder a picture really isn't worth a thousand words when it only tells part of the story. That's why all the Sports Illustrated racing covers are just a glimpse at what's happened and why we're happier to have the backstory than the picture from Quattro-luvr.
I meet A.J. Foyt once. He had just finished chewing out someone on his team for their lousy qualification run. I then asked him if I could get my picture with him.... I look terrified in the pict.
Classic.
Seriously, let's see that picture.