I am not fond of cameras.
Well, that is not entirely true. Cameras are a large part of my life -- and a passion. As long as I am the shooter and not the shot.
It started young. Whenever the obligatory group photograph would roll around at the gathering of our extended clan, my 4-year old self would either make faces or simply disappear behind the big people.
Nothing changed as I grew older. My mother has multiple photographs of empty chairs -- where I once sat while she was trying to figure out how the shutter worked on her camera.
Now, here I am at 67, and the behavior continues. During our Saturday walk, Mom wanted a photograph of the three of us together. Just Mom and her two sons -- a respectable title for our situation comedy.
I was game. After all, in my maturity. I have developed the Perfect Steve Look for photographs -- something I must have cadged from the finale of a vaudeville soft shoe act.
So, there we are. Sitting on the Barra jetty enjoying a day out -- looking like models for an AARP brochure. My shaded brother. Me doing my Al Jolson. And Mom being proud of Darrel, and put out at me for ruining yet another family photograph.
It is good to know nothing changes.
No comments:
Post a Comment