An Accidental Repair

 I'm nowhere near as handy as I used to be. While I'm still fairly spatially adept, certain things that used to be second nature have now faded behind the veils of time and old age, not to mention the moderate brain damage that happened during a cardiac procedure some years ago. I'd thought for years the damage was mostly affecting speech, though that has mostly repaired despite words often escaping me for periods of time. At least when writing I have time to try workarounds and come up with what I was looking for.

But certain skills with basic tools are becoming more challenging, and I even include a computer keyboard among them. There are times I have to stop and figure out which keystroke will do what I need in terms of procedures. They still work well with basic typing, just the usual abundance of typos. But sometimes I just have to tell myself to stop thinking about the keyboard and just let muscle memory take over. Shut it off, turn it back on, and log back in usually reminds me which thing to hit where.

It's been photography season for the last few months. I've been managing with a slightly broken camera for over a year. A film camera would have been toast. I managed to drop the thing one day taking it from house to car, violating one of my cardinal rules: don't just rely on my ability to balance a stack of items. The camera has a strap, as does its case. When holding either one, at least a finger needs to be hooked though the strap. DUH!

Oops! I changed direction to open a door and heard it clunk on the pavement. The case of the camera body came slightly apart. Not enough to fall off, but enough to interfere with turning it on and off, since the process involves pushing out its telescoping lens, or pulling it bsck flat with the case. I quickly figured out that pinching it right in a line with the on/off button enabled those functions to work. I tried the same off to the other side of it but the case wasn't budging. It wouldn't come back together. 

I decided not to force it. Being digital, it's not like light flooded inside the camera body to overexpose  film. I still got OK pictures, or at least as OK as what I was actually taking. I'm one of those people who can easily take ten shots and sort through for something between acceptable and pretty darn good. As long as each shot was taken with a pinch in that one spot, the camera worked. It had made handling it interesting, nearly always a two hand production: one to stabilize, the other to shoot. I could still easily get this, shortly after the break:

Or this, one from last summer, also post break:

Or even this, from early spring this year, with enough detail to keep most everybody from recognizing it as pussy willow, all puffed out.

I'm not sure exactly what happened, but think I just got frustrated from being in a hurry and trying to work the zoom. My hand just clenched a bit harder then usual. The unfastened side of the case suddenly clicked, and even as I watched, progressively popped itself back together.

Could it be? I hit the on/off button. No pinch, just a tap. It clicked, shutting off. Another tap, it opened. One more and the shutter clicked. I looked in the back screen and, allowing for the glare from the sun bouncing off my shirt obstructing its view, the shot I just took was there. 

 So why, oh why, hadn't I gotten brave enough to do that on purpose before this?

Of course I know exactly why. I had no replacement camera. Just the day before I'd been looking for that exact model online. I found out three important facts. First, it was made in 2014. Second, only refurbished ones were available, if I trusted  the source to have done the wonderful job they claimed. I'd done it buying this camera when we lived in Arizona, and it worked perfectly. Now? No longer confidant. Third,  the price on even refurbished ones was much higher, but replacements remotely close to this model via newer cameras were close to a grand, way over my budget. Besides, they had more lumps and bumps and stuff to learn. I wasn't that desperate that day. Now I don't have to be! 

I had concluded that if I actually got that desperate, I might finally start considering getting a smart phone.

OMG! Not that!!!! Yes, I do know it's likely my only practical shot at getting photos of night skies. Galaxie shots, auroras, whatever, the newest ones have cameras which capture the light and colors very well. But I'd have to learn a whole damn new phone AND camera at the same time! 

I already have this unique talent for just touching Steve's smartphone, and killing it. I can't even get the swipe right to answer an incoming call for him, however important it may be. 

Go ahead, call me a luddite. 

Just don't drop my camera!