After we finished the rental last week I dug out my real camera and a wide-angle lens to take photos for the listing. I was rushing that day to keep the afternoon light, so of course I was frustrated when I stared down at my trusty DSLR, so beat up from hundreds of hours of shooting at conventions, Dapper Days, fan meets, and more, and realized I didn't remember how the lousy thing worked anymore.
"Which button is the white balance?" I demanded, poking at various options. "How do I get to the menu, again?"
John was with me in the open garage, putting tools away.
"Oh geez," he said looking up with a laugh, "You haven't had that thing out in years, have you?"
I had to stop. "Wow, I guess not? Huh. That's wild to think about."
Eventually muscle memory took over and I got the settings... set... and backed up a ways to take the first photo of the garage. Definitely not a beauty shot, but functional. I raised the camera to my eye, half-pressed the shutter to lock the focus, and, "snickt!" took the photo.
I've heard that little whir and click thousands and thousands and thousands of times, but never once thought anything of it. It's just the sound of a camera, right?
But not this time.
This time, in that empty, muggy garage, I was suddenly transported to the floor of the Marriott lobby during Dragon Con, surrounded by crushing crowds and the deafening sound of merriment and music. I was on the concrete expanse of the MegaCon vendor floor, and in front of the castle at the Magic Kingdom, and a dozen other places all at once, grinning, yelling out to someone how amazing they look, lining up the right angle and lighting as fast as I can, all so I can go chase the NEXT person. I felt a sense of elation and excitement crash over me, like being suddenly hug-tackled right in the gut.
"Oh," I said, breathing out. I looked over at John. "That's... that's such a happy sound, isn't it?"
John looked at me quizzically just as the strangest, silliest, most surprising thing happened: I burst into tears and laughter at the same time.
"AAAAA, this is so dumb!," I yelled, wiping back my tears through a fresh peal of laughter, "this is so dumb." But it wasn't dumb, it was wonderful.
"Stop," said a bewildered John from across the way, drill in hand, "you're going to make me cry, too!" And then he did, and we stood in that empty garage, losing light, laughing and hugging and crying over a million happy memories, a beat-up old camera, and the sweet sound of a single shutter click.
Covid took so much away, y'all. So much. But the lack and the long darkness has also given me something: a reminder to cherish the small things - even as small as a camera click.
This week is busy for me and John; we're going more places and seeing more people in a week than we did in 6 months last year. I'm excited, and maybe a little overwhelmed? But it's good. It's good.
Your world may not be opening up as quickly as mine - or you could be way ahead of me, already out there - but wherever you are in this transition back to "normal," I just want to remind you to savor the firsts. The first sit-down restaurant. The first group outing. The first hugs. The first movie and concert and convention. Take the extra moment. Go ahead, lose the light. Savor the firsts.
And now, if you have any, I want to hear about the Firsts that caught
you
off guard. The ones you never thought about before, the boring, everyday
things you never expected to miss, not until you got to see or hear or
go experience them again for the first time in a long time. Let's share
some happy mundane things, so the folks behind us on the way
can see there's hope and light and laughter ahead.
*****
P.S. Congratulations to my 3 Squeegineer winners for May: Laura S., Laura K. & Tracey R.! Please check your inboxes for a message from John, gang, so you can choose your prizes.