Thank God for digital cameras. Photography has come a long way over the years and with the much improved technology, even the most novice of photographers can manage to snap a decent picture. Well, almost.
Do you remember the good old 35mm camera? I do. In fact I saw one recently at my mother's house. The ancient artifact was perched proudly on a shelf in her bedroom and was surrounded by those little, round rolls of film. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to investigate and see if the rolls had been exposed or not. Of course, there is a reason for my snooping, which I will cover later. Not entirely surprised, I noticed that some of the film was exposed, some of it wasn't, and some of it had surely been double exposed. Thus, the story comes.
I may as well cut to the chase. Every single, major event in my life has been double exposed at the hands of my mother. Now, to be kind, her heart was always in the right place. It's just that she never promptly had her film developed. So, invariably, she'd place an already exposed roll into the camera to capture that special event. Maybe she was trying to kill two birds with one stone, but I doubt it. There's nothing special about a photo of your son marching with a flight of fifty airmen during his Air Force graduation, while a ghastly image of his eighty-year-old grandmother hovers above in a lounge chair eating a slice of watermelon. Another of my favorites also involve my Air Force graduation. My parents, and sister had made the journey to Texas for the special event. So, naturally, mom wanted to capture the excitement with lots of pictures.
Several months after my training ended, I was afforded the opportunity to enjoy a week of leave from the military. "Here, take a look at the pictures I took in San Antonio," mom gleefully said. She handed me the little packet, which was stuffed with photos.
I reluctantly flopped down onto the couch and allowed my mind to wander briefly to my high school graduation. The picture that most stood out in my mind was one that featured me receiving my diploma from the principal, while my father stood nearby frying hamburgers on the grill. Dad's cut off jean shorts, black shoes and brown socks pulled to his knees made that milestone especially memorable. "Ugh, you did it again!" I whined.
"Did what?" mom asked, as if she hadn't a clue.
"Did what?!!! You double exposed the film again!" I continued. I stared at her in disbelief. How could she had not noticed the very first photo in the pile. I stared at the snapshot and began to laugh. It featured me, in Air Force dress, standing at full attention beside of my commander, a colonel. We both smile proudly and looked very sharp if I do say so myself. Sandwiched between us stood my older brother, proudly holding up a citation rainbow trout he had caught sometime in the distant past. His hip waders and muddy shirt added a nice touch, but I especially enjoyed the trout transposed over the spot where my head would have been. I continued to scan mom's pictures. Thankfully, some of them turned out, but most of them didn't. Another of my favorites was a shot of my dad and I standing together while our little beagle, Tippy, hovered in front of us with a chicken bone hanging from her mouth. Oh my.
A few years later, a local politician contacted me to request my participation in a local parade to honor the military after our victory in the Gulf War. Naturally, I obliged.
The float that I was assigned to featured a member of each branch of the military. I was truly excited. So, of course I wanted to have the event photographed. "I'll take my camera," mom said proudly. Immediately, felt the pangs of worry creep into my mind.
"Uh, maybe Carla can take the pictures," I said, while standing in front of the mirror adjusting my tie.
"Oh, I know what you're thinking. I bought two new rolls of film and I promise I won't double expose these," mom answered as she dug through her little camera case. Reluctantly I agreed to let her document the special occasion.
"I thought for sure that I put a new roll in," mom said in a somewhat surprised tone.
I stared ominously at her while she flipped through the pictures. I was home on leave a few weeks after he parade and couldn't wait to see her pictures. "Let me see," I said with a very monotone voice.
The very first picture I looked at made me laugh. Standing and waving on a nicely decorated float, stood a finely dressed marine, one sharp navy guy, an army ranger, and me. Oh, there was also a baby, a gigantic baby. She took up the entire picture. On one end of the float her head rested on a stripped pillow, and on the other end it looked as if she was kicking the army ranger off the float. I looked as though I was riding a pacifier. My dad's foot was driving the tractor that pulled us down the road.
So, thank God for the digital camera. Now if I can only convince my mother to purchase one, maybe, just maybe, if I ever do experience another milestone, I can have the event documented without hovering pets, babies, angling brothers and dear grandmothers creeping into those snapshots.
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