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A final click.
Aug. 14th, 2005 09:06 pmAfter church today, I decided to take the boys to the zoo. It was much too glorious of a day to be stuck inside, and I figured it would be good to see the zoo under such glorious conditions - not too hot, not too cold, not too windy, etc.
Apparently, about fifty thousand other people thought the same thing. ;-)
We parked out in Kalamazoo and hiked about 5 miles to the entrance (no, not really, but we were MUCH further out than we had ever parked before). I bought our new family membership, though I couldn't believe that we hadn't been back to the zoo since Mar. 6th. We then set off. The 'Desert Dome' is always our first attraction, and after stopping at the fish pond and the 'Zoo Ball,' we went inside.
Naturally, I took pictures. I always take pictures. It's what I do. Click, click, CLICK!
After seeing all of the Desert Dome and the 'Kingdom of the Nights,' we set off across the stone puzzle path to the zoo's pavilion - a bunch of indoor exhibits. Halfway across the 100-yard stretch, an awful thing happened.
You see, while we had been in the Desert Dome, A.J. had been flipping around, flailing his arms and other such crazy physical nonsense. He was dancing to anything, and he was just way too excited for the circumstances. I know, I know - trips to the zoo ARE fun, but they're not excuses to get so CRAZY. I had asked him twice to "Calm down, A.J." and to walk like a normal person. On the way across the stone pathway, he was doing it again, and Jack was laughing his head off at his antics. Again, I told him to calm down.
He didn't hear me, however, and he whipped around to ask me, "What, Mom?" In the instant that he whirled around with his flailing arms, he knocked my camera out of my hand.
I swear the next second of my life happened in slow-motion. I watched in horror as the camera catapulted feet away from me, having no chance at all as it slammed into the stone ground. I heard the sickening crunch as all things that make my camera so lovable met their untimely demise.
Instantly, I felt sick. My camera came to a rest upside-down, and turning it over to pick it up was gut-wrenching. It's "face" was so obviously broken - a cracked slash ran through the focus cylinder. The housing was smashed and glinted metal under the powder coating that had once been so smooth. Pushing buttons only resulted in horrible grating and crunching sounds from inside, and nothing could be found in the blur of the viewfinder.
Oh, I wanted to throw up.
My camera was very nearly a member of the family. It had served me so well, and I felt awful and felt such guilt that I had failed it so.
The boys and I entered the pavilion, and while they set off for all sorts of exhibit-related discoveries, I sat down and took inventory of the damage. I already knew it was hopeless. I called
Heather and then Annie in near-tears. I felt silly about crying in public over a camera, so I didn't allow the tears to fall... but oh, how I felt them.
We stayed at the zoo a while longer, seeing many more things. Finally, it was time to leave. All the way home, I just felt sick. I knew what I had to do, but I just felt so awful for the poor camera sitting next to me - my baby. My first digital camera, and the 'child' that had served me so well.
There were no other options, of course. I had to do what I had to do: buy a new camera.*
I now have a Canon Powershot S2 IS camera. From what I have now leared online, it's not available in many stores yet - even Amazon.com has it "coming soon." I *will* get excited about it, I'm sure, but for at least the rest of today, my heart (or shutter finger, anyway) is in mourning.
* Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ignu2k for being available for consultation in my camera "emergency" - she answered her phone even though she had NO clue who I might be! :-)
Apparently, about fifty thousand other people thought the same thing. ;-)
We parked out in Kalamazoo and hiked about 5 miles to the entrance (no, not really, but we were MUCH further out than we had ever parked before). I bought our new family membership, though I couldn't believe that we hadn't been back to the zoo since Mar. 6th. We then set off. The 'Desert Dome' is always our first attraction, and after stopping at the fish pond and the 'Zoo Ball,' we went inside.
Naturally, I took pictures. I always take pictures. It's what I do. Click, click, CLICK!
After seeing all of the Desert Dome and the 'Kingdom of the Nights,' we set off across the stone puzzle path to the zoo's pavilion - a bunch of indoor exhibits. Halfway across the 100-yard stretch, an awful thing happened.
You see, while we had been in the Desert Dome, A.J. had been flipping around, flailing his arms and other such crazy physical nonsense. He was dancing to anything, and he was just way too excited for the circumstances. I know, I know - trips to the zoo ARE fun, but they're not excuses to get so CRAZY. I had asked him twice to "Calm down, A.J." and to walk like a normal person. On the way across the stone pathway, he was doing it again, and Jack was laughing his head off at his antics. Again, I told him to calm down.
He didn't hear me, however, and he whipped around to ask me, "What, Mom?" In the instant that he whirled around with his flailing arms, he knocked my camera out of my hand.
I swear the next second of my life happened in slow-motion. I watched in horror as the camera catapulted feet away from me, having no chance at all as it slammed into the stone ground. I heard the sickening crunch as all things that make my camera so lovable met their untimely demise.
Instantly, I felt sick. My camera came to a rest upside-down, and turning it over to pick it up was gut-wrenching. It's "face" was so obviously broken - a cracked slash ran through the focus cylinder. The housing was smashed and glinted metal under the powder coating that had once been so smooth. Pushing buttons only resulted in horrible grating and crunching sounds from inside, and nothing could be found in the blur of the viewfinder.
Oh, I wanted to throw up.
My camera was very nearly a member of the family. It had served me so well, and I felt awful and felt such guilt that I had failed it so.
The boys and I entered the pavilion, and while they set off for all sorts of exhibit-related discoveries, I sat down and took inventory of the damage. I already knew it was hopeless. I called
Heather and then Annie in near-tears. I felt silly about crying in public over a camera, so I didn't allow the tears to fall... but oh, how I felt them.We stayed at the zoo a while longer, seeing many more things. Finally, it was time to leave. All the way home, I just felt sick. I knew what I had to do, but I just felt so awful for the poor camera sitting next to me - my baby. My first digital camera, and the 'child' that had served me so well.
There were no other options, of course. I had to do what I had to do: buy a new camera.*
I now have a Canon Powershot S2 IS camera. From what I have now leared online, it's not available in many stores yet - even Amazon.com has it "coming soon." I *will* get excited about it, I'm sure, but for at least the rest of today, my heart (or shutter finger, anyway) is in mourning.
* Thanks to
ignu2k for being available for consultation in my camera "emergency" - she answered her phone even though she had NO clue who I might be! :-)
