My friend Chris Bonney's musings on this topic are worth reading. I agree with everything he says, with the exception of his account of our meeting at the festival. He claims he turned around to find me weaving my way through the crowd. In point of fact, I was minding my own business when I was shouldered aside by the great one on his way to capture another sweaty denizen in flagrante, and after regaining my balance, I struggled to catch up with him. I called his name to no avail, and it took several sharp raps on the noggin to get his attention. I'll spare you the details of our Sherman's March down the boardwalk taking photos, except to note that I consider it beyond the fucking pale to shout "Hey Fatty! Hold still!", but that's just me.