Dave Busch’s rise from total oblivion to obscurity has been described as meteoric: a big flash, followed by a fiery swan dive into the horizon. Although Dave’s first photographs were truly dreadful, he’s been told that his pictures have been improving significantly over the last four years, which infuriates him, because he first became serious about photography in 1958. He remembers when Kodachrome had an ASA of 8; most films came in yellow boxes, except for the good stuff, which came in orange packaging; lenses didn’t zoom; and cameras didn’t have keypads for placing long-distance calls and texting messages.

The magic moment for Dave came in 1965, when he was hired as a photographer by a daily newspaper, the first step in a career notable mostly for poor timing. Dave was at Kent State at noon on May 4, 1970, when his “nose for news” told him to go home. He had his camera with him in San Clemente, California the day Richard Nixon resigned; in Detroit when Jimmy Hoffa disappeared in 1975; in Zaragoza, Spain in 1977 as Bing Crosby died on a golf course there; in Washington D.C. in 1982 when Flight 90 crashed into the 14th Street Bridge; but decided not to go to what was Roy Orbison’s last concert in December, 1988. Orbison died two days later, anyway.

After four years in Rochester, New York as a PR/photography consultant/writer (back when a backslash really meant something) for an agency serving an obscure film/camera company there, Dave helped found CCS/PR, Inc., which grew to become the second-largest public relations agency based in San Diego, California. While a senior partner in the firm, he wandered the country aimlessly for 18 years as a writing guy who also took pictures and as a picture-taking guy who also wrote stuff. If you wanted a photo with a 10-page caption, he was your guy.

After finally filling up a wall map with tiny map pins that chronicled his travels, Dave sold his interest in the agency, retired on the proceeds, spent all the money, and was forced to return to work as a self-unemployed unskilled laborer in 1992. Since then, he’s kept busy by his quest to become the world’s most successful unknown author, achieving exactly half of his goal so far.

Dave describes his photography as “eclectic,” which is a code word for “inconsistent.” He loves photographing sports, landscapes, musicians, infrared subjects, and his grandchildren (as soon as his four uncooperative kids provide some.)