Can you guess why?
Yes, my dad wore cameras the way most people wear watches.
Dad was a geek before anyone knew there were such things. He would have LOVED our digital, virtual, plugged in world. I guarantee it.
They say past behavior can predict future actions (or something like that), so while I will never have hard evidence to prove my hypothesis, I can only speculate on the number of 'toys' dad would have. The answer, based the storage tub full of camera equipment I inherited, would be a s#*t load.
No, let me take that back ... I only inherited some of it, when he died. The rest came into my possession when he grew tired of the camera/lens/flash or the latest, greatest, new and improved thing was released. Doesn't this sound like someone who would love technology that is obsolete the minute it comes out and begs to be upgraded?
As it turned out, photography was something my father and I could share (I was just smart enough to let him do all the shopping.)
While my dad had always enjoyed taking pictures, it wasn't until I had gone off to college that he got into it with a vengeance. Because of his health, he had retired early and photography filled that creative void when he was no longer designing for steel mills. (I guess designing mill buildings can be creative — if you're into that kind of thing. I can't say I ever saw the beauty in them, but then, I can't say I was ever all that interested in steel mills period.)
In my final semester of college, I took a black & white photography class. My dad was over the moon excited. He was more than willing to go on 'field trips' with me to play with the cameras and lenses. We'd both record shutter speeds, apertures, film used, and lighting conditions so that we could go back and dissect why the pictures came out the way they did. I still have many of those records and proof sheets — his and mine. I don't know why...
Imagine my father's delight when I took a job with a professional photography lab and then as a manager of a camera store. And he could barely contain his excitement when I started doing B&W developing and printing in my basement.
(To this day, the smell of Dektol brings back fond memories ... like spending a Friday evening, during college, with a friend in a darkroom to see what developed. Thirty-three years of marriage later, we're still trying to figure it out! But on that Friday night, it was homework for my photography class ... what were you thinking?)
At some point, I gave up photography as a hobby. The camera equipment was banished to the basement. Maybe because my dad wasn't there to share it with anymore. Maybe because, with two small children, a point and shoot was easier. Maybe because, at some point, I decided I had no photographic talent and abandoned it.
Who knows?
The shutter bug has bit, again, and I'm on the hunt for a digital single lens reflex (DSLR). I know what the popular brands are — Canon, Nikon — but these are not what I'll get. Mine will be a Pentax. Because they are still around ... because my dad was a Pentax man ... because I still have a s#*t load of inherited lenses.
Mostly because I will be able to hear my dad's voice. I know he'll be there, guiding and loving every digital moment. And I'll enjoy the re-connection — to photography and my father.
Once again I will be reminded of his favorite, and oft used, expression: "I've taken hundreds of great pictures. Too bad there wasn't any film in the camera." I wonder how he'd deal with the fact that cameras don't require film these days and those 'great pictures' would be captured?
I'm guessing the delete button would have been his friend.
I know it will be mine.
Now, off to find a camera and see what develops ...
I knew your dad, he'd just leave out the memory card as if it were film.
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