In modern times, where we carry pocket-sized computers with AV-production capabilities wherever we go, you almost never hear the phrase “I wish I had a camera.”
There was period in my younger days where I often said those words to myself nearly every day.
In the weeks before I ended my 15-year tenure as a Floridian, I fired off dozens and dozens, of cover letters and copies of my résumé (yes, with the correct spelling of “liaison”) to organizations in Boston, and to a lesser extent Washington DC (where I was staying with some friends). The US was in a recession, so I was rather surprised by the number of interview requests that I received.
For a couple of months, I found myself frequently traveling the length of the “BosWash” megalopolis, carrying a suit and a briefcase. I padded my schedule so that I could reacquaint myself with people and places, and encounter some new ones. I would often drive to my sister’s house in Central Connecticut where, depending on time constraints, I would hang out for a few hours or a couple of days before I headed up North.
On the way back, I would often divert to upstate Massachusetts, and again to Central Connecticut to see family and visit my childhood haunts for Jerry’s pizza or Kimball’s ice cream, or to savor the placidity of Walden Pond, The Delaware Water Gap, or the Little League field where I hit a walk-off grand slam.
I have especially fond, perhaps rose-colored, recollection of that period of my life. <Sigh> I wish I’d had a camera.
The only archival records I have are located in my mind. Since my memories are are decreasing in resolution and color depth, and are likely selectively edited, the Modern Lovers video below, is seeming more and more like it could be a clip from a documentary about my life.
Have you ever wished that you had a camera?