The Ghosts Of Christmas Past

     Well I guess I made it through another one. Christmas has come and gone without an excess of trauma and life returns to what is generally considered normal around here.

     True to form, I left everything to the last minute. For the most part however, I didn't fret too much about it. Generally, I manage to pull off some form of Christmas for myself and my son every year. Christmas Day comes  whether I'm ready for it or not. I have found that making a reasonable effort is good enough. Fretting endlessly over every detail is ridiculous. I know of no one who suffered major trauma because they had to wait until Boxing Day to get a battery for their latest toy or gizmo. I know of no one who could not tolerate a turkey dinner because the cranberry sauce came from a can or was not served in the finest porcelain. For me, the reason for the holiday is to celebrate the birth of the Prince Of Peace. I don't think that His arrival was meant to cause stress and mayhem in the souls of those who would follow Him.

     I'm not a total slacker when it comes to this holiday and I have to admit that I do get caught up in the need to fulfil some of the expectations of those around me. But , if it all seems too much, I have no problem in stepping back and looking at the bigger picture. 

     I can remember the first time I stepped away from what was my tradition of the time. I was working in retail then and Christmas seemed a tiring time of stress and long hours. It was difficult to find the time to do the required shopping and, because of my job, I worked right up to Christmas Eve. Following that, I packed up my vehicle and spent three to four hours on the road to spend Christmas with my sister and her family. I would usually arrive fairly late at my sister's place on Christmas Eve and wake up the next morning with only a few hours sleep to celebrate Christmas with my two exuberant nephews. More than once, following the Christmas morning ritual, I would haul myself back to bed for some much needed sleep and only get up in time for Christmas dinner. The next day, I was on the road again because, as a retail salesperson, I had to be back for the boxing week sale. At that time in my life, Christmas was not a holiday but an endurance test.

     One year, I decided that I wasn't going to do my usual thing. I bought a few small gifts for the people around me that had been close to me during the year. I called my sister to let her know that I wouldn't be coming to her house.  She was a little disappointed but understanding of my situation. Call me a Grinch but I didn't buy gifts for my nephews that year. My sister and her husband provided well for the boys. Any gifts from me were, at best, unnecessary or at worst, inappropriate. I would be missed but my absence would not cause trauma.

     Christmas morning dawned bright and beautiful that year. My friend Karin, came by in the morning and we exchanged a few small gifts. I made a brunch for us and then she was off to fulfill family obligations. It was unseasonably warm that year and so, that afternoon, I took my bike out for a tour of the nature trails of a nearby park. It was pleasant being out in the sunshine, exchanging Christmas greetings with passers-by on the trails. I watched a young family feed chickadees and nuthatches. The brave little winter birds would take food right from their hands.

     Christmas dinner was a bit lonely but, not long afterwards, some of my musician friends came by for a visit. I was playing in a couple of blues bands in those days and it wasn't long before we gathered a few more souls from the underground blues brotherhood and had a nice accoustic jam that went til the wee hours of Boxing Day. For the first time since I was a kid, Christmas felt like an actual holiday. No stress. Just happiness,  laughter  and goodwill toward all. It is a feeling that I have tried to retain about Christmas ever since.

     I find the dichotomy of Christmas amusing. It's interesting to watch the stress filled faces at the mall as the sound system pipes in music about peace, love and goodwill. Well, it's over for another year. Sleep in heavenly peace.


                                                   ...more later

           

    
    

Mid Life Mayhem

         I took a roll of film into our local photolab for processing today. There was a time in my life when having a roll of film processed was not a noteworthy experience. This particular roll has about only eight or nine frames exposed on it, but it had been in the camera too long. It's been over two years since I have done any serious photography on film. I don't think this film will be my last one though. I have two rolls of 35mm and a roll of 120mm still languishing in my refrigerator. I just haven't felt nostalgic enough to use them. I'm having way to much fun with digital.

       That being said, I have to admit that I have a large suitcase full of colour prints and negatives stashed in my closet upstairs. I also have several binders filled with sheets of black and white negatives and contact sheets. To top it off, I have piles of colour slides tucked away in Kodak carousels. Last Christmas, in addition to this computer, I acquired a little unit that digitizes images from 35mm negatives and slides. Apart from testing it out with a couple of 35mm frames, I haven't put this digitizing unit to much use. The idea of digitizing 43 years of image making is a task that just seems too daunting. I acquired my first camera (an Imperial Instant Load 900) when I was eight years old. However, I couldn't help but feel the bite of another Canadian winter when I was out for my stroll today. Perhaps organizing all those photographs will be a good indoor activity through the cold months ahead.

       Maybe I'm just making excuses here, but I'm finding in my post March 2009 life, I don't want to spend a lot of time lost in nostalgia. In fact to a great degree, it is something I want to guard against. When talking with my ten year old son, I cringe every time I begin a story with the phrase "When I was your age..."   I find myself thinking,  "Oh my God! I've turned into my father!" I may be having a mid life crisis here, but I want to contribute what I can in the present with whatever knowledge and skills that I have acquired over my strangely spent life. That being said, as mid life crises go, I guess that renewing my interest in photography and pecking out a few blog posts is infinitely preferable to buying a powerful, overpriced muscle car. But damn those new Dodge Challengers look hot!... maybe in candy apple red... with a hemi engine...yeah, gotta have a hemi...and a six speed shifter....    


                                                              ...more later

 My first and latest cameras. I acquired the Imperial Instant Load in 1968. (Yup. I still have it) What is not in the picture are the dozens of cameras that came in between.

The two old girls. The Agfa Isola on the right was made in 1957. Both cameras still work perfectly, but 126 film for the Imperial is no longer available. I salvaged the Agfa from the garbage bin of a camera shop  where I used to work. 

The current arsenal.