Where I sit on selfies

I was in Atlanta last week for the National Trust for Local News’s innovation summit. That’s not what this is about. (Maybe later when I get my copy of the slides.)

This is about, of all the odd things, “selfies.” For the record, I hate selfies. I look at my face in my phone’s camera and it looks like my nose is the size of George Washington’s. Not his normal, everyday size, but the size of the one protruding from his face on Mount Rushmore. 

Further, it looks like two whisk brooms are sticking out of my nostrils. I look at my face in my phone’s camera and it looks like I have the ears of a troll, with the ear hair of a yak. I look at my face in my phone’s camera and it looks like I have the crown of Mr. Clean, the cheek bones of James Bond villain, Jaws, and the eyes of Marty Feldman, “Eye-gor,” in “Young Frankenstein.” (Other than that, I’m pretty handsome.)

Did I mention I hate selfies? Nevertheless, I was in the big city. I mean right smack dab in the heart of the big city. In a swanky hotel. A hotel so swanky I had to use my key card to get to my floor (on the eighth – it went to 14). So swanky it had “real” bacon, not none of that microwave stuff, and little yogurt cups with fruit in them arranged like a work of art. I just had to have a selfie with them.

I hate selfies but figured I had to make the sacrifice for the family. I wished they were here (or, in the case of a couple: “They’re going to be so jealous.”), but in the absence, show them what I was seeing. You know, so they could be happy for me. (Oh yeah, that wasn’t arrogant.)

So, there I was. Outside the hotel, looking at my face in my phone’s camera and trying to get just the right angle that included all of the hotel in the same frame. Not to mention as many of the buildings around it I could get in.

“A little further back … Further … Further …” That’s when it hit me. Or rather, that’s when I hit it. The pavement. Turns out there was a step … “I swear that wasn’t there a minute ago …” in my path I didn’t see. I did the whole walk awkwardly backward for about six steps before coming down hard on my behind. (Narrowly missing a street sign and most importantly not falling out into the street. It was close.) “Then it felt like something just jumped up and bit me.” – Forrest Gump

I spent the summit with a sore backside and wondering if I broke my tail bone.

Natalie Stichova could relate. Well, she could if she were still alive. She was the latest casualty I could find, the victim of a selfie. She, a Czech gymnast, and in August 2024, had travelled to the mountains of Bavaria. She reportedly wanted to capture the perfect selfie, atop the majestic peak of the Tegelberg Mountain with the famous Neuschwanstein Castle in the background. She took one step too many back, lost her balance and fell 250 feet to her death.

Did you know? According to a global study from 2014 to 2025, one that spanned 49 countries, at least 425 people have died from “selfie-related” incidents. Over half of those were from taking “one small step for mankind,” one long fall to eternity.

Other selfie deaths were related to animals, trains, drowning, car accidents, firearms and electrocution.

Selfies. We don’t talk about them anymore, but they’re still apparently a risk and a danger. Something to be aware of. 

In my case, something scripture, Proverbs 16:18, makes very clear: “Pride goes before the fall.”