First Friends

Yesterday I cleaned out my camera bag to move the contents into a new home, which is a story for another day. The bag I've used for the last seven or so years is wildly whimsical and vibrant in color. It's a sling backpack I purchased from a co-worker in my WBCL days. It's served me well, traveled with me extensively, and protected my cameras faithfully in between the memory making. Soon I'll tell you about the switch and why it's such a sweet moment for me.

But today I want to tell you about a dear friend I found as I cleaned out that trusty bag. 

It was my first digital camera. 

I remember so very well the day I bought it. I'd been keeping the disposable camera industry afloat nearly single-handedly, but one of the student workers in my office brought in her newly purchased digital camera and demonstrated for the front desk staff all the merits it provided. Instant viewing privileges on a tiny screen on the back of the camera. Imagine the life-altering knowledge of immediately knowing if your photo was blurry or your subject's eyes were closed!? 

She scrolled her way through the special features and sold me when she showed me I could actually take a photo in black and white or...are you ready for this?...sepia.

I counted pennies, asked her for input on brands, and finally made the purchase. 

It was a little Samsung point and shoot that is actually smaller than my current phone. And speaking of phones, back then they were just for placing calls and doing this other newfangled thing called texting. It was where you could press the #2 button three times to get the letter C and then the #3 button twice to get the letter E. Twenty minutes later, you could have this century's version of a Morse Code tapped out to ask a quick question without ever speaking to a soul. 

Life-changing.

But I digress.

I tucked that little Samsung camera into my purse and took it everywhere. Hundreds - even thousands - of photos went onto the oddly shaped memory card (What? No film?) that I got lodged securely in the photo kiosk at Wal-Mart the first time I ever tried to develop pictures. True story. The man in the blue vest had to dig it out with a screwdriver and handed it back to me with a glare that I interpreted as a stern warning to not let such a thing ever transpire again. I didn't. I started going to WalGreens instead. 

I did take some sepia pictures, and some in black and white. I learned to take selfies on that camera before selfies were even a thing. (When you're single and want to document your life, you learn to take selfies.) 

I used that little Samsung for many years before upgrading to a fancier point-and-shoot that looked like a DSLR without actually being a DSLR. Even for a while after that, I carried the Samsung in my purse, because it was tiny and convenient. Then I got used to the bells and whistles of the bigger camera and made room for that in my purse instead - even though it gave me neck strain to carry it. 

It doesn't work anymore. I put batteries in it a while back just to see, and it wouldn't turn on. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away then, because it reminded me of the early days when I really allowed myself to fall in love with unabashed memory-making. Digital photos meant I could actually afford to take as many as I wanted, because I didn't have to buy film or pay to develop the pictures. 

That little Samsung was my friend and partner in documentation.

Yesterday I decided we could finally say goodbye. I'm ready to let go of the broken camera, but I'm forever grateful for the years upon years of pictures I will forever have because it traveled with me and helped me keep record of all that happened.

How about you? Do you remember your first camera? Any of you still have it?