Even though I am driving an old jalopy Volvo wagon, which my sister refers to as a "horror," and which my mechanic has taken to pleading me to break up with, and now even my kids are turning on, I've been far more open to and concerned with the fact that I needed a new camera.
I've been in denial ever since my trusty Panasonic Lumix drowned in the lake way back in July. I resuscitated it in a bowl of rice and rebelliously kept snapping away with it, subjecting you all to my flawed images that had enormous potential, but all seemed to harbor a white blotchy ghost, symbolic somehow, was it Ian, my missing husband? floating, weightless, somewhere off to the lower left, which spoiled the whole effect.
Ghosts be gone.
I marched into Staples this past Saturday, after spending hours standing on the side of a cold and blustery soccer field watching Esther run wild like a frisky pony in the wind, and went directly to the camera aisle. I am a salesperson's dream: Absolutely no research, no price comparing or bargain hunting. I simply said to the first person who came to assist me, "I need a new camera to replace this one. Show me which one is comparable and won't cost me more than $150."
He asked me a few questions and pointed to the Nikon Coolpix and I said, "Okay, I'll take that."
I find technology overwhelming and the more information I have the more confused and conflicted I get. I prefer to get the choosing part over with. Luckily I only do this with inanimate objects, and not with people, husbands for instance.
But I do have the urge to do the same with cars. I hate car shopping. I don't want a new car. I love my car, despite how much it looks a lot like a hearse and despite the fact that the doors are so sticky you have to dislocate your shoulders to open them, and despite the fact that every month it needs a new pricey repair and the front right axel sounds like it's going to give way at any moment. Oh, and the way the back hatch door doesn't stay open and has a habit of falling down on my head, and once on Esther's back, is annoying, potentially hazardous, and leads to profanity in front of minors.
But I bought it outright, used with 80,000 miles on it, and haven't had a car payment in about six years. It's got built in booster seats, love those Swedes, and a rumble seat in the way back that makes it just as kid friendly as a mini-van without the school bus effect. It's got 157,000 miles on it and I thought I would be able to drive it for at least another 50,000. Turns out, leaving it sitting in my dad's garage while we were in France was not the best thing for it.
But, honestly, this consumer talk is getting boring. I was going to tell you about the other cool, über-cheap thing I spent my hard-earned money on at Staples, but I don't want to put anyone to sleep. Instead, I'll see if you can spot it in one of the pictures taken with my new camera. Hint: I'm in the picture with it.