1/29/2003

1/29/2002 - 12:00

I really miss my digital camera. At a cookout in the northwoods where deep fried turkey, guitar music, bugs and football were stitched into the fabric of the summer day, I clicked away carelessly. (without a care)

"Can I see?" an 8 or 9 year old cousin asked. "Here" I said, handing over my trusty kodak DC3400. I told him to go ahead and take some pictures, showing him the simple controls. The zoom on the camera isn't that great, so I added "You'd better get a little closer."

An almost never used pool loomed in the distance and I'm sure the potential for catastrophe crossed my mind. Only crossed though. He ran with abandon towards the 6 or 7 kids flocking in the direction of the pool. They all went up the ladder to the deck, my camera wielding cousin close on their tails. It all seemed to happen in a matter of seconds. In slow motion: I saw him trip, landing a step from the top edge of the pool, watched the camera bounce on the deck jettisoning batteries in 4 directions, and the camera, finally, going plop and sinking into the green murky water. All the happy kid chattering trunkated at the situations gravity.

We all stared into the black lagoon of a pool not knowing what to do. At length, I enlisted my oldest to retrieve it. An excellent swimmer, she was up in a flash with batteries and camera in hand. I remember feeling as scolded as the kids when the Moms came scolding.

I reasured the Moms, though, that it was myself at fault and the kids went on playing.

If I were a camera and had to go, I'd like the romatic way my old DC3400 went. Last held by a child with a happy heart on a summer day in the northwoods.