My nemesis is sitting on my desk, finally defeated.
His eye is closed. His life energy has been drained. He tilts downwards, ashamed. I have truly vanquished him.
I will never have to use that atrocious camera every again.
Oh, did you think I was talking about a real person? I guess I was pretty vague there. I haven’t defeated a flesh-and-blood human. I’ve done something much harder; I’ve ditched my awful picture-taking machine. I’ve triumphed over it.
Not all heroes wear capes.
I’ve never been much of a camera guy. I know how to use them and I enjoy snapping photos, but I don’t know what brands are the best or what lens works for every situation. Devin (my co-worker) has a knowledge of shutterbugs that makes me look like a pre-schooler. I point and click; that’s about it.
When I arrived in Yorkton, I was given a camera of a...vintage quality. It had seen its fair share of winters, but as long as it worked, I didn’t mind.
And for a while, it operated just fine. I pointed, I clicked, the lens snapped a picture, rinse and repeat. We were a solid pair.
But two months ago it betrayed me. I was at a gala event. The lighting wasn’t perfect, but the camera flash was making the images look too washed-out. I switched to no-flash mode just to see the result. I clicked and the shutter opened to take the picture. And it stayed open for a minute.
I thought the camera was broken. I stood still, holding it in place, trying to think of what to do. Finally, the shutter closed and showed me the photo.
It was hideous. It made the gala look like a party in the middle of Hell. Colours were warped and blown-out. People were reduced to blobs. Everything swirled together into an awful stew.
After that, my camera kept failing me. Its battery capacity dwindled to a measly two hours. No-flash pictures were abstract-art monstrosities. I would take one photo and I’d have to wait 30 seconds before I could take another. Since our work depends on catching spontaneous moments, my busted camera was a huge liability.
But last week it’s reign of terror ended. I received a new camera and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s sleek, it’s intuitive, and best of all, it takes decent photos. I’m in love.
I’ve plopped the busted camera on my desk as a reminder of my photography struggles. My foe has been reduced to a mere trophy. I’ll never use it again.
Unless I accidently break my new camera. That’s a horrifying thought.
