Reckless Abandon

I’m beginning to learn that I cannot rescue every lost and abandoned film camera at the thrift shop just because it has film still left inside.

Take for example, this poor little Olympus.Olym1I remember working at a camera shop in the early to mid 90s where this little camera would have sold for over a-hundred dollars. Now it’s worth 50-cents at the half-off night at my favorite local thrift shop.

Olym2And yep, it has film still left inside.  What latent images are waiting to be revealed?  I can’t hardly stand it.  I have to know!  Was this a story of love and lust? Of power and intrigue?  Of fame and glory?  I had to know, I just HAD to know!

So I bought the poor little thing, rewound the film (the battery still worked. Bonus!) and took it to the lab.

Well, I’m not exactly sure what this story is.  As far as I can tell…

Olym3First, we sought out our family homestead by getting into our time machine and traveling back about 60 years.

Olym4Then, we visited with some of our dearly departed.

Olym5

We celebrated the cycle of life by gathering around cauldrons of what I hope is boiling apple butter.

Olym6Then we attended church, where the fiery specter of death was already starting to finger at our souls.

Olym7And we are then consumed by the fires of eternal damnation.  Or maybe someone just opened the back of the camera to see if the film had been rewound.

Olym8Finally, we are reincarnated as a viable consumer good at a little thrift shop, where some idiot buys the story for 50 cents and posts it online for a world in which nobody cares.

See, was that really necessary?  Probably not.  But hey, I reinvested a few dollars into the local economy.  And a forgotten (and forgettable) story is now made immortal through the powers of the internet.  And you can’t put a price on that, can you?


One Response to “Reckless Abandon”

Leave a Reply