New Camera

"Old friends pass away, new friends appear.

It is just like the days.

An old day passes, a new day arrives.

The important thing is to make it meaningful:

a meaningful friend -- or a meaningful day."

-- Dalai Lama

Lego camera 4-10-14

"Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

-- "Rick Blaine," Casablanca

For the past few weeks I have been borrowing Leo's camera because the shutter button on mine detached and fell out.

Rather than get mine fixed, the guys at Best Buy gave me a store credit to replace it.

I didn't really want to buy another camera that might have the exact same problem, so instead I used the store credit and kicked in a good chunk of my own money for a significant upgrade.

Old Camera was so familiar, so easy. We went together like peas and carrots. I didn't even have to look to know which of her buttons to press. She was like an extension of myself.

But New Camera?

New Camera feels strange and unfamiliar. I have to refer to her owner's manual to figure out simple functions. New Camera is complicated. Mysterious. A little scary. New Camera can do things I'm not sure I'll ever want or need her to do.

Every relationship has its initial getting-to-know-you awkward phase.

The only remedy is to spend time together. There's no magic. There's no way around it. It just takes lots of time and lots of practice.

So yesterday while the Indians double header was on TV, I set up a mini photo shoot in the family room and experimented with New Camera for a couple of hours, just so she could start showing me her stuff. I built a tiny little camera out of Legos and shot it a bunch of different ways with a bunch of different modes and settings.

We were just playing. Nothing formal. No pressure.

Little by little I started to feel more comfortable with New Camera's weight and balance and controls.

We'll do more today. A little more tomorrow. Even more the day after that.

I suppose it's kind of like saddling up a prize show horse when you've grown really comfortable riding a simple pony. You know what she's capable of, and she wants to show it you, but she can sense your unease and uncertainty.

She's skittish. You're skittish. And you're both making each other nervous and frustrated. She may throw you off a time or two.

It's OK.  Dust off and climb back on.

It may take us a while, but we'll get there.