That One About…

Dad's Rig

My father enjoyed photography, gadgetry, and the acquisition of said gadgets that never quite fit into the family’s tight budget. These three loves converged in the purchase of a Canon AE-1 somewhere in the ’80s. He burned through roll after roll of film, spent mostly on wildlife, local landscapes and the dozens of iris varieties that edged the yard.

He died when I was in my early 20s, and when asked, I could only think of two things of his that I wanted to take to remember him by – his police officer’s badge and that AE-1. I really can’t recall now whether it was sent out from Colorado or I brought it myself, but I remember sitting and looking at it a long stretch with a lump in my throat. I swore at the time that I was going to do great things with it. I excitedly dropped a roll into it and… life happened. I shelved a lot of things at that point, including the Canon, though it traveled along with me through the moves and changes that were to follow. It sat untouched in its tacky, tan leatherette JC Penney bag with a half-consumed roll in its belly, banished to a cabinet in the garage.

Later in life, when things had become more settled and I had the time and money, I made good on my resolution to give photography a serious try. This time, though, a digital SLR called my name and the 30D became the tool of my obsession. I made thousands of bad exposures and few decent ones, and I became confident enough to start self-identifying as “photographer”, along with “geek”, “drummer”, and “dad”.  I needed friendly advice, validation and cameraderie – enter Flickr.

I discovered Flickr later than many, but the timing was just right for me. It gave me an outlet to share my work and brought me together with like-minded people online and in person (the Los Angeles area has to have the densest concentration of active Flickrites, as well as the most-frequent meet-up opportunities). The local Flickr community is filled with hugely-talented and inspiring photographers, many of them fiercely dedicated to preserving film photography and processing. It was exposure to this group and the fantastic work they do that made me unzip that tacky bag and retrieve the AE-1.

I turned it over in my hands. It hadn’t aged a day, but it felt light compared to the 5D Mark II, my newest instrument. The kit 50mm was mounted, and the hopelessly-dated orange brocade strap hung from its sides. I fumbled with buttons and knobs, relying on sense-memory to guide me in opening the back and releasing the film inside, a roll containing only memories best left undeveloped. The inner body looked clean and the transport moved freely, but the battery was long-expired and I could only hope that hidden corrosion or a jostle during a move hadn’t made some sort of repair necessary.

A visit to the Calumet walking-distance from work got me a new cell and a couple of rolls of Fuji Pro 160C. The camera fired up without a problem and I felt relief and anticipation. I immediately found the metering intuitive and the split-focus couldn’t be simpler. I took it out over the last week in a few different situations, and it felt good to make each exposure. You can see some of the results here.

I’m thankful that such a simple experience can take me back to times with my dad, and I regret that I’ve waited so long. I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately.

Addendum: I’m recycling this post (one of my most personal) for a contest, sponsored by oldschoolphotolab.com and photomfa.com. Please visit them for great analog photo news and services.