I've become a bit of a math and science nerd somewhat late in life, and I blame photography. Oh sure, I took most of the requisite classes in high school and college, but I hardly stood out as a model student. By my sophomore year in a Catholic high school -- in Wyoming, no less -- I had already moved on to pursuits more, shall we say, extracurricular than academic. I was fortunately more successful in college (and, later, graduate school) with a more committed corp of teachers, but a real and abiding interest only came about as I embraced my photography as a likely career option. More exemplary lives than mine have been sacrificed for less.
My first surprising love affair was with chemistry, a subject I enjoyed but struggled with in school. But when it came time to learn and master the darkroom, it was love at first sight. Ok, maybe second sight, but I had great training, rigorous and thorough. It went far beyond just the time-and-temperature recipes to a real grasp of why and how the chemistry works, which gave me a genuine mastery of the craft. I could make a negative sing. I spent a few wonderful years as a color-systems manager of a high-end pro lab, and mastering the mathematical and chemical intricacies of the tri-linear E6 process control (damn, I love the sound of that!) brought out my ultimate and unapologetic geek.
And if I can put on my grandpa hey-you-kids-get-the-hell-off-my-lawn hat for an indulgent minute, I would be remiss not to make at least a passing comment on our pre-automation years. We made spot-on exposure calculations in real time, right inside our little heads, with that old ISO (well, back then it was ASA) and distance-to-subject formula. It's algebra, and it's necessary, just like Sister Mary Pat said it would, back in 10th grade. Solve for x, dude. It ain't rocket science.
