I’ve begun sorting through a carton of photos, slides and negatives dating back to my first camera—a Nikon S3 rangefinder that was older
than I.
(That camera accounts for the name of this blog,
BTW—because before single lens reflex (SLR) cameras you looked through the
viewfinder to compose your shot, but the lens took a slightly different picture
than what you saw. That delta between viewfinder and picture is called the
parallax view. Cute, no?)
I’m doing this exercise because I’m about to ship off the
pictures I really want to maintain to a digitizing service, and it’s a lot of
work. Back in the day of film, children, I would shoot a roll of film in hopes
that I’d produce maybe six or seven interesting photos, and those would be the
ones I’d print. But I’ve still got all the positives, negatives and slides.
Meaning photos from four continents, associated with a
multitude of events and experiences, so it’s taking some time to go through it
all.
(Plus, I need to find a light table to scope out the
negs. I recall why I used to shoot slide film—including Kodachrome
of beloved memory: there are people who can look at negatives and tell what’s a
good shot and what isn’t. I’m not one of them. And for damn sure, without a
light table I’m hosed.)
Well, you don’t care about all that. What I also do is
take snaps of things I find interesting, or a commentary on my surroundings. (I’ve
shared some
of the scenery of the Silicon Valley right here in these blog pages.)
So here’s one I shot when I was living in LA, in the 80s.
For some reason which now escapes me I’d gone to Glendale and was wandering
around. I saw this store and immediately snapped off the shot. It’s not going
to make the shades of Dorothea Lange or Lee Miller twitch in the least, but it
tells you a lot about the great state of California.
As we say here—America, gonif!
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