01-15-2021, 04:14 AM
(01-14-2021, 08:42 PM)Guth_imp Wrote: Very nice pdedse. Smartphones are great and certainly convenient, but I've always liked having dedicated camera at my disposal. This is an experience that fewer and fewer people will come to know going forward. As for me, well I'm still shooting film (in addition to digital), lol.
Film! That's awesome... while thinking about what camera I was driving around and since photos were on my mind, I couldn't help but notice a number of camera shops that I used to frequent were, of course, no longer there. Made me wonder what people do to develop film. I'm sure there are still places.
I have mostly 16-25 year old students in my classes where I teach, and every year it's noticeable the disappearance of shared knowledge. A student asked why we say "hang up the phone"...why "hang up"? Why not just "turn off" or "power down"? A couple of students were able to explain.
On the other hand, I hear them talking about turntables and records / albums, and how the quality of sound is sooooo much better than digitally produced music. One student had to explain to another the concept of placing a record on the turntable, selecting the right speed, taking the needle and setting it on the record, etc. It was funny to listen to.
Maybe some 60 years from now, my as yet un-born 50 year old grandaughter will open long passed away grandad's shed. She'll stare at all the junk for a minute or two, then she'll begin to pick up this and that and wonder what the objects were used for. Eventually she'll make her way to the back of the shed and notice some rust-pitted handlebars poking out from under an old dusty, paint-stained canvas tarp. She'll slowly pull off the tarp and discover a lonely--apparently at one-time red--motorcycle that has "HONDA" on the tank. A faint memory of her mom telling a "grandpa rode motorcycles" story will come to her mind. She'll find a rag and wipe off the aged, torn seat, and she'll swing a leg over the bike. Then she'll reach for the handlebars and place her hands where gramps' once had been. She'll find the footpegs and feel the pedals and wonder what they used to control. Using a bit of force, her left hand will pull in the squeaky clutch. She pushes the faded red switch on the right bar first one way, then back. Some black, rubberized bits will fall from the end of the brake lever. She'll try to adjust one of the mirrors, but it won't budge, so she'll lean over a bit and think she's still looking good for a 50 year old.
Back inside the house she’ll find an old photo album her mom and she put together long ago on a rainy day shortly after gramps had died. After flipping through several pages, she’ll find what she was looking for--and there it is… a faded photo of gramps standing by a bright, shiny-red motorcycle, with some pretty mountains in the background. She looks carefully and confirms it is the same one in the shed. She’ll smile as she notices gramps' eyes. Just like hers! She sees the once near pristine bike. She wonders where it took grandpa. She notices his smile. She stares hard again at the bike. She looks out the window and sees she left the doors of the shed open. A crazy thought crosses her mind…
Wonder what it would take to get that running?
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