Sure, I’M crustier than that slice of bread you left in the toaster last month, but there is hope for the photog nation. Proof: JD Angel. (JD Angel? Didn’t they open for Whitesnake in ’89?) With his youthful exuberance and authoritative lanyards, this youngster roams the open plains of El Ocho proper, reminding seasoned ‘slingers of a time when being a TV news stevedore held all the promise of an actual career. Now, I don’t know JD well, but I’ve seen him high-five himself enough times to recognize the clinical joy of early ENG freedom. Who am I to crap on that? It wasn’t long ago that I was JD – though with considerably more hair and just a dash of acid-washed denim. It wasn’t pretty and looking back I clearly recall a few older guys rolling their eyes at my endless vigor and budding mullet. Thus, I’ll  refrain from passing judgement on an earlier version of myself, for this industry has long prospered on the broken shoulders of grinning greenhorns. So fair sailing, JD! Gorge yourself on all that fresh access and don’t let any of those grumbling old farts back in the edit bays bring you down. They’re only envious of your energy and jealous of your joy. Just do me ONE favor…

Watch where you that sling that thing, would ya? You’re scaring the old folks.