The other morning in a restaurant I heard a customer remark, “That’s a Kodak moment for sure.” The short and often repeated statement simply means that some special life event has just occurred.
In this case, a male server dropped and broke a dish or cup. I suppose that happens quite often, so why this person designated it a Kodak moment still baffles me.
I’ve been one to take pictures going back to elementary school, and I’m glad I did. Those photos still exist for my kids and grandchildren to enjoy and hopefully preserve. I now keep them in a safe for safekeeping, no pun intended.
In high school, I took a graphic arts class, with part of the semester devoted to taking pictures and then developing the 35mm film. Our large classroom had a darkroom where we created negatives and printed them off.
A classmate, David Church, and I decided to use the school high-definition camera to take a snapshot of a one-dollar bill. It started out as a joke of sorts, with neither of us having viewed a movie where criminals counterfeited lowly George Washington bills.
We left the completed image in a copier before departing class on Friday afternoon, ready for it to be duplicated. With no intentions of going through with the ruse, we hoped that someone would find it and create a fuss. The following week, graphic arts had a special guest speaker—a special agent of the FBI.
This man emphasized to our class and to other classes throughout the day the serious implications of counterfeiting currency. Undoubtedly, he knew this was a cleverly planned joke, yet wanted to nip things in the bud before someone went further.
Dave and I were smart enough to keep our mouths shut, thus we suffered no serious consequences. We were light years ahead of other students throughout the whole semester, where legal creativity was concerned, and received A’s for our handiwork.
Just the other day my wife mentioned that a snapshot had been taken of me as I drove through a red light. She then mentioned all of the cameras placed at various intersections for drivers like myself. I told her a police camera would’ve vindicated me of the act as I knew that light was still yellow. Our debate ended in a draw.
Cameras throughout town capture our every move and for the most part, are a good thing. I do my best to obey the traffic laws but at times fail. Those cameras aren’t the only ones capturing me making mistakes. I have a tiny one on the vehicle dash that records such acts as well.
A couple of years ago, Joleen was searching for cheaper auto insurance and came across a company offering lower rates if we agreed to something called “Snapshot.” At first, I thought it was an onboard camera and wanted no part of the device.
After reading a pamphlet, Snapshot turned out to be a gadget that plugged into our vehicle computer, and after 90 days, the data would be analyzed for sudden stops, jackrabbit starts, excess speed, and erratic driving.
It seemed like a no-brainer to go through with things, not taking into consideration it was close to Christmas. My wife loves for us to drive through Havasu neighborhoods at night during the holidays and take in the colorful lights.
For those living in town, they’ll know what I mean. The street signs are mostly faded and hard to see in the dark. Following a newspaper map with all of the Christmas light locations made for a trying experience.
Our snapshot device went off numerous times, making a loud beep as I suddenly slowed down and made quick turns. I wanted to toss it out the window. All in all, Snapshot painted a picture of me as a bad driver after the results were tabulated.
With the holidays here, thankfully, Snapshot is a thing of the past. I now use a preprogrammed GPS to find those decorated homes. There’s a good chance I’ll still execute sudden stops and turns, yet the only indication of such will be a honk coming from behind.
I’ll return the gesture out of courtesy and wave to them while cheerfully saying out loud, “Merry Christmas, Jack. Next time, stay a little further back!”
I like to write junk... 