We're off to the market in Selles-sur-Cher, 10 miles upriver from Saint-Aignan, this morning. It's not raining and Thursday is the day over in Selles. It's the biggest market around (except maybe Loches and Amboise, which are farther away).
About that picture of me in jail with a stethoscope in my hand and a whitel lab coat on, let me say it wasn't a complicated story. But it was a fun day. At the time — 1988 or '89 — I was working as managing editor of a trade magazine called UNIX Review, published by a company in San Francisco.
Another magazine the company published was Medical World News. The editor was preparing a story on antitrust issues that were affecting doctors and wanted to do a cover on the theme of doctors landing in jail. He needed somebody to be the doctor for a photo shoot.
Now you have to realize that all these magazines were published on shoestring budgets. If the editors could get anything for free, they jumped at the chance. So for the Medical World News photo shoot, the editor and publisher started looking for free "talent." And I was the "talent" they found. I was probably about the only editor in the building who was old enough to look like I could have had time to make it through medical school. I was coming up on 40 years old. And we were at a point in the editorial cycle that allowed me to take half a day off.
As for the prison, that wasn't a problem. We — editor, photographer, and some other hangers-on — took the cable car down to Fisherman's Wharf and then the ferry over to Alcatraz. For the photo, they put me in a cell and slammed the door shut. There was much joking and laughing, which didn't help me because I was supposed to look forlorn about finding myself in prison.
It was my one and only modeling gig. And all I got paid for it was my normal salary as a magazine editor (which was peanuts). It was also my one and only trip to Alcatraz.
Okay, walk the dog, get a shower, and head for the market.