Disposable Camera Delights
zip, click, smile
Back in January, I bought a 2-Pack of FujiFilm QuickSnap disposable cameras. It took me half the year to take 54 precious shots. I wanted to make every picture count.
I love the zip, zip, zip of the film wheel under my thumb. The satisfying click of the button beneath my index finger. The flash lights up faces like a firework on the 4th of July. With one eye closed and the other peering through the viewfinder, I grin at my friends.
Friends love disposable cameras too. We savor the kitschy nostalgia, like sharing a pack of Sour Patch Kids. Each sweet memory leaves a tartness in the mind because we know it’s forever part of the past. While time travel isn't an option, we can flip through our beautifully imperfect 35mm prints and smile.
After using up all the shots, I promptly dropped off the cameras at Walgreens. Slipping them into the envelope, I handed it to the clerk, who assured me, "We'll text you when they're ready." I waited eagerly, like a college girl waiting for her crush's reply. But days turned into weeks, and still, no text came.
That's the thrill of a disposable camera - the anticipation and mystery. Unlike a Polaroid camera that instantly spits out the photo, providing ephemeral instant gratification. And with a smartphone offering unlimited photo ops, the temptation to keep trying for that perfect shot is relentless.
Almost forgetting about my photos, it was a desperate need for OTC meds1 that brought me back to Walgreens. I told the clerk my name, but she couldn't locate the photos under the R or T sections. Finally, after some searching, we found them under L, my middle initial.
Tearing open that envelope was like unearthing buried treasure from my childhood backyard. Feeling the photos in my hands, instead of thumbing through them on a phone screen, brought the memories to life. Joy washed over me as I flipped through shots of sundrunk girlfriends, a spontaneous night out with buddies, and a day party in San Francisco.
Dad, a lovable luddite, stuck to disposable cameras instead of going digital. I'd roll my eyes but happily “cheese” for the photo. Back then, no need to worry if the picture was social media-worthy. Looking through our 1990s scrapbooks, I see pure, unfiltered happiness. It looks so good & true. Now, I carry a disposable camera too, capturing those unforgettable moments with indispensable friends.
I recently got Invisalign and needed Tynenol for the teeth aches 😬
Thank you for reading Connection Crave, dear reader-friends. Hope you've been having a good summer 🌞
Thank you, Silvio. Your comment made me reflect on how technology removes friction. And without that friction, we sometimes lose intentionality. Friction -- in photography, painting, writing, etc -- forces us to slow down, think carefully, and learn to appreciate “imperfections”
So nice, Rachael. Having to think before an apparently harmless action like taking a photo in the domain of non-digital is a little like making decisions on your own, without the myriad advice-based resources we are surronded of today. Today you can do things without thinking, as undoing them has never been easier. I recently had an old film camera cleaned up and restored, not because I like film better or what have you, but because I want to go back to when we had a limited number of shots to use and had to think of what we really wanted to use them for. Beautiful piece! :)