A head shot speaks out.

Guest commentary

A head shot speaks out.

Editor's note: John Fyten is on vacation, and this week's commentary is written by his long-time associate, his head shot.

Hi. I'm that confidence-inspiring face you see in the upper left corner of this Web site's home page. My full name is "John Fyten's professional photographic portrait". But everyone just calls me head shot.

Sure, all you other photographic portraits out there think it's easy being an agent's head shot. But you're wrong. Heck, all you guys do is sit around on dressers and collect dust. Me, I'm working 24/7, on this Web site, on flyers, on stationary, in ads, sell sell sell. I guess I should be glad he doesn't put me on notepads and cheap pens.

I was born in 1998, and my birth was difficult.

John's one of these guys who really hates having his picture taken. It's enough to give me a complex already. I hear Native Americans used to believe that a camera steals your soul when it takes your picture. I don't know if they really thought that, but I'm pretty sure John does.

So John put off having me for months. Then one morning he needed me right away or he'd be labeled "missing" in the full-page ad his office was running. Even John knew he couldn't duck me anymore.

So he steamed down to the only photographer he knew, Speedy Photo Processing (And, By The Way, We Have A Camera And A Few Backdrops Around Here Somewhere). He warned the photographer, a young woman who seemed familiar with the camera, that he was a difficult case.

She found out he wasn't kidding. Call in the rubber ducky.

I'm one of many head shots that were born that day, but I never worried. Because I'm the best head shot John's got. I know this, because I know the others are carefully locked away.

Well, wouldn't you know it, right after John had me, my kind of head shot started going out of style. The big trend back then was to natural settings. Joe Agent next to a tree. Joe Agent climbing a tree. You weren't sure if Joe was an agent or a park ranger.

And then, yeah, a little later some agents—maybe the same agents?—started having their photos taken greeting you from what looked like the central hall of Windsor Castle, only grander. John might have gone for that, but he didn't know how you lined up ostentatious locations like that. Maybe Wayne Newton rented out his home by the hour?

Lately I've noticed that some agents—maybe the same agents?—include their dogs in their professional photos. John likes dogs, and there's a neighbor's dog that likes John and would consider posing with him, but John doesn't know if a perky Chihuahua named Gogo would build the brand.

So, no sir, I don't worry about John replacing me. When your John's head shot you have lifetime tenure. Most of the head shots I hung around with back in the day are ancient history. But John says he'd rather walk barefoot over five miles of freshly laid asphalt than work with that rubber ducky again.

I think John's only regret about how I turned out is that I have him wearing an old tie that was too narrow even back in 1998. It makes me look like maybe I date from 1958.

And I know some people have whispered behind my back that I make John look older, but John—what a great boss!—he just figures it means he can use me a little longer before I look out of date. And, come to think of it, no one's said that lately.

Yup, I got me a nice little job 'til ol' John retires.