18 years ago this past Monday, I watched Joe delete 90% of the pics I took for him...mostly while not even looking at the screen.
Just his eyes locked on my face as my eyes darted from his to the monitor and back again.
"Fucking garbage... What are you doing next weekend, I have a trackday to shoot at rfr and I want you there. I'll drive."
Same breath, he called me trash and boosted my ego.
He saw my potential, and gave me a shot 18 years ago.
He taught me not only how to be a better photographer, but how to run (and not run) a business, and that as much as you want to do things by yourself, sometimes you gotta believe in those that bring the passion.
He has warped my brain into believing that 100 degrees isn't all that bad, an 8 hour drive is a quick trip, and that nobody really needs any more than about 2 hours sleep...because after driving for 8 hours, shooting in triple digit temps, there will be someone STOKED that you were out there to get their first knee drag, and that person will invite you into their pit to drink beers until Saturday night turns into Sunday morning...all for it to repeat 2 hours later.
And, for the record, he didn't throw a single punch in that AFM fight. Not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't want to accidently clobber the guy that was dumb enough to get in the middle and break it up.