At some point in almost every photo enthusiast's lifetime, a notice announcing a photo contest will catch their eye. This is especially true if the enthusiast has been receiving praise for his photos from his mom, spouse, and friends with such comments as "That looks like National Geographic stuff" or "You should start selling those". Please note that I did not include photo editors in that list.

The contest temptation can be alluring especially with such prizes as new cameras, photo backpacks, tripods, binoculars, and sometimes even a new car! Many contests are part of an advertising campaign to promote a company or maybe a new product. But sometimes the sponsor has ulterior motives such as obtaining a database of potential customers or even more deviously, to obtain images that they can use royalty free as they choose. Read the fine print.

Most of my experiences with photo contests consisted of local newspapers, the zoo, and a couple of Oklahoma magazines but I did okay. The prizes ranged from plane fare to the Pacific Northwest, a camera store gift certificate, a snorkel outfit, a t-shirt, a plaque, and my name in the paper. One of the better contests was by a multi-state electronics retailer with a first prize of, are you ready... a 47 inch High Definition television set made by none other than our familiar printer manufacturer Epson! Not only was it an HDTV but included such can't-do-without accessories as a built in printer that would print out a captured TV image measuring 4X6 inches ready for framing. How cool is that? But wait, there's more. This marvelous piece of engineering also featured a memory card slot to view your own special moments taken with your very own camera. And, and a CD burner to permanently capture all those once in a lifetime images on a disk. Wow. What, you never heard of an Epson TV? I hadn't either but I entered anyway. I chose a photo of some scissortail flycatchers and sent it in.

Weeks later, I received an e-mail informing me that I had made the top 25 finalists. That's nice. Days later, another e-mail; I was in the top 10. Hey, not bad. But then... a phone call.

"Mr. Williams, we are pleased to inform you that you have won our top prize of the Epson Livingstation. Congratulations".

"What? You got to be s...g me", I blurted.

"Well, actually I'm not. When would you like it delivered?"

HOO BOY! YES, YES, YES! Shouts, high-fives, and jigs all around. A face splitting grin was plastered all over me and remained there until the delivery crew set it up. You see, at the time, my TV feed was limited to satellite that could not deliver an HD signal unless I had a special dish arrangement and there would be an added fee. The printable image taken directly from the screen looked like it had been, well... taken directly from the screen. Not exactly the quality I had hoped for. The memory card slot worked fine if you liked to push a lot of buttons first. The CD burner was not used. What was the point?

So I sold it. Oh, did I mention that the IRS was kind enough to notify me that I would be taxed for the full retail value of the prize? That's some of that fine print business we talked about earlier.

Local photo contests can be frustrating. Judging the quality of an image is very subjective to begin with but when the judges are the likes of the librarian, the fire chief, and the school principal, there's bound to be some surprises and disappointments. I should have known better but with time on my hands and an article in my home town newspaper, the Sand Springs Leader, urging all photographers to enter the great Sand Springs Museum Photo Fair Contest, I did it anyway. The rules were plain; prints only, mounted or framed, limited to the listed sizes. Subject matter could be anything from architecture to wildlife. They even threw in an open category to qualify practically anything as long as it wasn't obscene. There was an amateur and a professional division. Their definition of professional was having received money (no mention of how much) for any of your work at any time. I read somewhere that a professional photographer is one who derives 50% or more of his or her income from photography. Well, I sure didn't fit into that classification but I had made a few sales over the years and so I boldly checked Professional. The thing was... they didn't actually list any prizes although several sponsors were named. I dismissed it as an oversight by the newspaper and prepared my entries, one for wildlife, one for portraits.

The contest ends. The Sand Springs Leader prints the announcement of the winners. "Warren Williams placed in the professional division". Placed? What does "placed" mean? Was it like a horse race of win, place, and show and I came in second? The article continued, "Winning photos will be on display until the end of the month at City Hall. Photos can be picked up by the participants at the museum once the display date has ended." Ominously, there was once again no mention of prizes.

I did not go by the Sand Springs City Hall to view the entries. I did not call the Sand Springs Leader to see if they had made an omission. I did not call the museum to check on prizes. I did arrive at the designated date to retrieve my photos, one of which, to my astonishment, had a Grand Prize ribbon attached. I knew but asked anyway.

"There were no prizes were there?" I asked the lady behind the desk at the Sand Springs Museum. "This was all for fame and glory wasn't it?"

She handed me my prints. "Fame and glory", she said, "Just fame and glory".

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