CSotD: Cameras don’t take crappy pictures. People take crappy pictures.
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Dave Kellett's been doing a storyline at Sheldon this week, which he doesn't always do. Gramps has found a camera with a mostly-exposed roll of film among his late wife's stuff in the attic, and is trying to figure out what to do with it.
Dave's sense of humor, and his geek-element, are on display so often that it's sometimes easy to forget that he's also an excellent storyteller, and there are elements of loss and regret behind Gramps' ambivalence. You should click on that second link and catch up on the story to see what I mean.
Meanwhile, the technological aspect alone would be enough to keep me tuned in.
The digital revolution has had a more complete victory in photography than anywhere else I can think of, even than in writing, where the computer has replaced the typewriter and the ability to re-write, correct and supplement your material is but a click away.
There is still something not just appealing in writing by hand, but, 'scuse me, advantageous: Simply taking notes in the field with a pen is easier than thumb-typing them into a handheld whatever.
Those who will continue to shoot film for the experience I see in the same light as those who collect, preserve and drive Stanley Steamers. I'm glad they are doing it and I enjoy seeing the fruits of their interest. But it is history, a technology whose time has passed.
For a reporter, the advent of the digital camera has been a godsend, if for no other reason than that, as Gramps points out, you can check your first shot to make sure you are on the right track.
So that, for instance, you won't take so many pictures of John and Yoko at a gallery opening at the Everson Museum in Syracuse on his birthday in 1971 from 10 feet away that you begin to wonder if you loaded a roll of 36 rather than 24, only to realize, no, the reason you haven't come to the end of the roll yet is that the goddam film broke and you've just shot nothing and that the couple, and the moment, have passed you by, irretrievably and forever.
Just to pick a freaking goddam example at random.
Not that it's impossible to screw up with a digital camera, mind you, but you have to work harder at it.
And the annoyance factor with digital photography kind of goes the other direction.
I mean, it's good that you can shoot 200 photos with a digital camera, because that means you can get that one, perfect photo.
Or you can simply dump the whole mess into Flickr and automatically post all 200 attempts, including the ones of your feet or the ceiling of the car, focused and unfocused, fresh and redundant, onto your Facebook page, creating a whole new scale of insufferably dreary slideshows for your friends to cheerlessly plow through, vainly hoping to figure out which frame you actually believed was worth posting.
And at the other end of the annoying Facebook continuum are the equally tasteless but more technologically adept Photoshop fiends who will enhance a landscape to a point that would make Heidi Montag say, "Okay, no, that's over the top," making a mockery of the real art of photography, which involves being at the right place at the right time and snapping that shutter at the only moment that mattered.
An art that going digital has not changed.
In other news …

Speaking of Heidi Montag, today's Baby Blues was under consideration for CSOTD, but I'm clueless about this whole deal. All I know is that when guys dress up as cowboys, the women don't dress up as ranchers' wives but as saloon girls in net stockings and high heels.
Which, I guess, has some parallel in that the guys are dressed as gunfighters, not dirt farmers. But still. Makes you wonder if Gloria Steinem looks at those pictures from her undercover Playboy bunny story and says, "I could still fit into that!"
And that bit of speculation is why this wasn't the CSOTD, because Scott and Kirkman can hand me the shovel, but it's my choice how deep to dig the hole. I'm only mentioning it because they have a new blog that is worth checking out, particularly if you have young kids or simply care about kids, which would take in most of the Baby Blues fan base, I would think.
I mean, if I wanted to delve into the touchy and land-mine-laden subject of "Things About Women That I Really Can't Understand," I'd have posted Rob Rogers' current cartoon:

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