shutterbabe

took a licking and 33 years later...

I've started using my beloved 1980 35mm Olympus XA2 again. It turned up this morning when Ron was searching for his misplaced passport because we'd just read an article about how the state of New Mexico, on January 15 2013, will require passports from anyone attempting to pass through security at any NM airport. Drivers licenses will no longer be valid for that purpose because apparently there have been thousands of licenses issued to illegal immigrants without much screening; an unsuccessful attempt by former governor Bill Richardson to reduce the number of uninsured drivers on the roads. This follows a federal REAL ID law that the Bush administration passed in 2005 and which is going into effect next month (anyone recognize shades of Casablanca here?"show us your papers"  "uh, I don't think I have them with me" -- and we know what happened).

So, back to the discovery of the camera. I'd given it to Ron several years ago when I was newly into digital with my Canon 4MP. He asked for the XA2 because he liked the design and felt it would be a classic someday. He never used it. He can do that: appreciate an object solely for its design and beauty. When I saw it again this morning a flood of memories came rushing in. It was my first compact camera and I carried it everywhere, every day, in my purple LeSportsac bag (long gone). Most of the photos we have from our first decade together were taken with that very camera because of its easy portability.

still clicking...
The body is worn in some places from use, but miraculously, when I flipped a lever the beeping red light sounded -- the batteries still had juice! and I found a roll of film in a desk drawer. I learned that Walgreens in town sells film, batteries, and developing. I'd driven there earlier after clearing off 6-8 inches of snow from the car and driving through the rest on our unplowed road, only to discover upon arriving, that I'd left my bag at home in my haste to get out and buy film! It was snowing by the time I got home so didn't go out again. Sometimes patience is forced upon me. It will be fun to see what comes of this. But how will I get those pictures onto my computer to share? Like this yellow-snow-on-the-mountain one I took a few minutes ago as the sun got low in the west? Do I see a scanner in my future?

When dropping a stone into a well,
one never knows what the echo will be;
when you send a photograph into circulation,
it is out of your hands.
     Henri Cartier-Bresson