Just Say No By Gary Gladstone Sure, we all want to please the client. We want to pile on all the clichÈs: go that extra mile, put on our game face, give 110 percent (actually, I like to give 117 percent, but that's just me). But, sad to say, there comes a time when we know, deep down inside, that we have to turn it down, refuse the invitation, take a stand, return to sender. Like.... When the day of the helicopter shoot dawns hazy, stay on the ground. "Look, Ma, I'm flying!" isn't a valid reason to take to the air, and there's nothing as boring as a hazy aerial. When the client asks, "Will you be able to shoot the round-up from a horse if we supply one?" You'll be black and blue from the pounding that hanging cameras will give your ribs. That's if you don't get knocked off when the horse does a full gallop under a low branch while you're squinting through the viewfinder. When the client suggests leaving your assistant behind and says, "I'll help you lug your things." There will be a very small, but very loud explosion when he plugs the synch cord into the household outlet and vaporizes your flash's innards at the same time he insures that he will never have children of his own. When things get too complicated, as in "While you're shooting the CEO, can you shoot a little black-and-white, too, and can we bring in the CEO's wife for a quick portrait, and can we have a video person shooting over your shoulder?" If you don't say no, every important moment is going to fly by unseen as you switch cameras and struggle to remember the different film speeds and what the light and fill are doing on the black-and-white as opposed to the color. On the bright side, you won't suffer for long because the CEO will give you all of five minutes before announcing that the shoot is over (along with your career because you were trying to do too much in a very short time). If you should decide to accept this impossible mission, Jim, remember to shoot the CEO's wife first, so that if she hates the picture you will now be referred to in two places (his home and office) as "that lousy photographer," thus assuring your departure as the company's preferred shooter. When someone suggests you don't bill them for advances and put all the expenses on the final bill. That'll work just fine...if you're still in business and Visa hasn't attached your kids' college savings by the time the client gets around to paying you. When the client suggests that to save money, he buy the film and have it processed because "Wal-Mart is having a sale this month." Actually, it might be better to say yes to this one, as there will be a re-shoot when the processed stuff's color is deemed hideous and unusable. When the client says, "The flight home leaves at 5:00. Is it okay if we shoot just a little more here? We can get to the airport by 4:45." Assuming that you don't have somewhere else to be the next day, this is another time that it might be good to say yes. Because of the extra time needed to check in the heavy gear, plus the delay at the security X-ray station as you explain what all those lenses with the hidden explosives inside them are all about, you'll surely miss the flight and be able to bill an extra travel day. When the art director says, "I found a great restaurant a few miles away. Let's break for lunch now and finish the shot later; the sun will still be out." It is a little-known fact that "the sun will still be out" is what successful rain dancers chant. When you hear the client say, "I'm telling the models to meet us at the old, unmarked, abandoned mine shaft instead making them travel 20 miles out of their way to meet us at the office." Say yes to this and prepare to shoot scorpions and gila monsters crawling around the client's product while the models wander around somewhere, hopelessly lost during "good light" time. When the art director tells you that he's talked the chairman into being photographed on top of a skyscraper with the city in the background. Go along with this one and you'll get a half hour of him squinting into the shadeless distance, his eyes tearing from the steady wind while what's left of his comb-over proudly competes with the American flag for horizontal elegance. And as tempting as it may be to try any the following, unless you are a bona fide, experienced, battle-tested specialist in the category, or can afford very expensive production styling help, protect your hard-earned reputation by saying no when someone asks: Can you shoot an infant eating? Can you shoot the surgery close up? Can you shoot underwater? Can you shoot fashion or food? Can you shoot sports? Can you shoot tall buildings so they don't lean? Can you shoot 23 pictures in three close-by towns on Christmas Eve? Taxi!!