Ah, that mysterious temptress, the object of desire and obsession. I don't
think I've ever understood her very well. Or those she masters. Heck, last
year I sold my few mint collectible silver coins to raise money to buy a
decent tele-zoom. Might as well have something I can appreciate *and* use.
All my camera gear looks good, or at least no worse than when I bought it.
But, honestly, I don't know why. I don't baby it. Heck, I don't even have
a proper camera bag. My main bag was a Kirkland bicycle handlebar touring
bag in my cycling days. Lotsa pockets but no padding, 'cept for some foam I
put on the bottom. Everything is plopped together in there - bodies,
lenses, whatever won't fit in the smaller pockets. Nothing's ever been so
much as scratched. The one paint chip on the prism of one of my Canon T70
bodies occurred when I fumbled a skylight filter that landed on it.
I photographed a public meeting the other night with my OM-1 and Fat Viv
(from now on that's what I'm calling the Vivitar Series 1 28-90mm f/2.8-3.5
varifocal, 'cause it takes too long to write Vivitar Series 1 28-90mm
f/2.8-3.5 varifocal and I've never learned how to program macros on my PC).
Fat Viv seemed kinda ostentatious at first, 'til the local newspaper photog
showed up with her brace of Canon A2s and L-glass. When she got close
enough for me to admire her bodies I noticed lotsa scuffs and paint chips
off the white-barreled L zoom. Badge of honor, methinks.
Lex
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