An old camera has recently arrived at my doorstep, asking me if he could, despite his flaws and malfunctions, live with me and maybe come with me on a trip sometimes. Of course what he really wanted was to be used again, but he was too proud to say it. I saw through him easily, and I have to be honest: he was too good-looking to resist. I took him in.
At first everything was great, we joked around and had a good time. But then came the point where he had to perform. I gently cocked his shutter, and fired it. Almost without a sound and trembling with anticipation, he opened up his shutter blades and closed them again rapidly. So far so good. I turned the dial down to 1/4 of a second, cocked his shutter again, and fired. He opened up his blades quickly, made the softest whirring sound, and then did nothing.
After my inventory of the camera’s flaws (a sticky shutter that was unreliable at high speeds and not functional at all at speeds below 1/8 of a second and a view finder with festive mouldy patterns encrusted in it), I must say I felt ambivalent towards him. I wasn’t sure what to do: get him fixed and pay the bills or throw him out and avoid the costs and the risk of wasting film. And like a cat that doesn’t know whether to attack the bird or just eat from the bowl starts washing itself out of pure confusion, instead of choosing either option, I just loaded him up with a roll of 120 film.