Muffins and Buns
Hang in there for this one. The payoff is worth it. I promise…
Not long ago, I took my son to a double feature screening of Donnie Darko and The Evil Dead. There’s a scene in Donnie Darko where Drew Barrymore’s character, an English teacher, stands in front of a chalkboard where the words “cellar door” are written. When one of the students asks about it, she replies, “A famous linguist once said... that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history... that ‘cellar door’ is the most beautiful.”
It’s certainly fun to say. It makes the tongue perform gymnastics in the mouth, around the teeth, and about the lips. If you enjoy “cellar door,” a quick internet search will yield other beautiful candidates:
Susurrous: Making a soft, whispering, or rustling sound.
Effervescent: Sparkling, bubbly, and full of lively energy.
Crescendo: A gradual increase in loudness or intensity.
Limerence: The state of being infatuated with another person.
Mellifluous: Having a sweet, smooth, and melodic sound.
These are all great, but as is my nature, it makes me think in the opposite direction. What are the worst-sounding words? If “cellar door” is the most beautiful, then the least beautiful has got to be “say cheese.”
Of course, this is less about the sound of these words and every bit about the context. Nothing fills me with dread, chills my blood, and triggers my fight-or-flight response like those two unholy syllables.
Suffice it to say, I do not like to take pictures. Don’t get me wrong. I love pictures, particularly when they’re candid, when a photographer snaps a shot of an authentic moment of joy or delight, of love or excitement. When it’s a record of life in that moment—neither posed nor postured—then it’s something wonderful, something as beautiful as a cellar door. Here are a few examples of what I’m getting at:
The traditional picture, though—the let’s-all-stare-in-the-same-direction-and-smile photo—I hate ‘em. Clearly, I’m in the minority. Most people happily submit to this tradition. But if you want to see me look like a complete asshole, point a camera at me and demand that I “say cheese.” I tense up, I feel as if someone has just fit me for a diaper made of spiny cactus pads, and my mind overflows with hateful and self-loathing thoughts.
This has been a decades-long point of contention for my mother-in-law (who I refer to as Molo). To be clear, I love Molo. She’s great—loving, supportive, kind, and generous beyond reason. She’s also a hall-of-fame-caliber grandmother to my children. In no way do I have that sitcom-style relationship between a mother-in-law and son-in-law. But when it comes to photos, we are profound enemies—philosophically and aesthetically.
When I first started dating my wife, Molo revealed herself as a traditional shutterbug, snapping photos to commemorate every milestone, however insignificant, however monumental. She had groomed my wife, my sister-in-law, and my father-in-law for decades, and the three of them can crack a smile and hold that smile for durations of time that defy logic and the limits of facial anatomy. Since the beginning, she’s been on me to “smile with my teeth.”
I can’t do it.
Even when I give it my all, when I sincerely try to meet the moment, we get the pictures back, and there I am—the literal picture of visual discomfort. I have some theories about why I’m so photographically averse. Here’s one: I don’t like being told what to do, not in any context. So when someone, whether Mr. Rogers or Mother Teresa, tells me to “say cheese” or “smile,” my immediate thought is, “Go fuck yourself, Mr. Rogers. You too, Tessie.” And matching that thought with sincere joy is tough.
Molo is the opposite. She loves to smile for a picture. And her smile might be the most consistent thing on the planet. It’s as if her lips and teeth are the product of German engineering. She is camera-ready at all times. No hyperbole. I have only seen her hair out of place, i.e., not camera-ready, two times in the twenty-five years that I’ve known her. One of these times was when we went on a ride at Universal Studios and had no idea that the attraction culminated in a waterfall emptying itself directly onto our raft. No pictures were taken that day.
The other time was when my brother-in-law and I chased her down in Newport Beach, each of us grabbing an arm and a leg and then gently lowering her into the warm bosom of the Pacific Ocean in knee-high water. My wife was on standby with a camera to document this rare moment.
The photo above is my second favorite photo of Molo. There is another. It’s the pièce de résistance, perhaps the greatest portrait of any human being ever taken. To understand why, context is necessary. Aside from being the most photogenic woman who ever lived, Molo also appreciates the mise-en-scène.
If you haven’t taken a film class, just know that the mise-en-scène refers to what’s in the shot: the props, the setting, the costumes, and so on. She likes to accessorize the moment. For instance, if we’re taking pics over brunch, she’ll grab a cocktail, hold it up to accentuate the mise-en-scène, and then discard it once the shot is taken since she rarely drinks. It’s a charming, borderline crazy quality. But again, she wants to mark the occasion, make the memory, commemorate the moment…
But in the picture you will see momentarily, there was a backfire (so to speak). We were on vacation in Hawaii. She had gotten herself a muffin and a thermos of coffee, and as is her custom, she enlisted my father-in-law to capture her pleasant morning repast. Pops did his husbandly duty, and neither of them thought anything of it.
You know how you hear those stories of people buying a rickety piece of furniture at a garage sale only to realize later that it contained in its cabinets a priceless Picasso canvas? This was sort of like that. We were swiping through the vacation photos when we discovered it: a compositional catastrophe so perfect that it elevated the photograph to high art. Like everyone who’s seen this picture, you’ll know it when you see it because you’ll bust out laughing. All I ask in exchange for the laugh is that the next time you take a picture, don’t tell everyone to “say cheese.” Tell them to say “muffins and buns.”
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Looks like she’s holding her cup to catch anything that might come out of his butt. So thoughtful.
Priceless. I do hope Molo's new photo-pose phrase is 'Muffins & Buns!' - sure to elicit a genuine smile from all familiar with this iconic photo.